Untamed Art
Untamed Art
Nov/Dec 2019: an invitation to exhibit my works in a chapel prompted larger pieces such as banners/hangings and curtains. I love the theatrical quality of draped and swagged fabric. Apart from the three large pieces made specifically for the exhibition, I hung the silk scarves in pairs and as the windows in the chapel were always open, they danced the month away!
Oct 2022: Colours of Creation exhibition with Caroline Penny. St John’s Anglican Church, Bulimba Qld Australia
The clusters of tiny shards
of red and green and yellow
fell from but did not belong
to, the tree from which they fell.
On board ‘Pluto’ I lay them
in regimented rows on
a newspaper article
about an exhibition.
The mystery continued
when I found more underneath
yet another type of tree;
this one bearing berries too.
My perplexed gaze skyward
attracted a passer by
who exclaimed and could explain
the tri colour mystery.
Mistletoe from India.
One Dendrophthoe falcata.
Perhaps she came on a boat
or borne by a passerine.
She now calls Australia home
And so say all of us, who
willingly or sometimes not,
were transported from our lands.
The red flash falls from the Blue Quandong next door just past the Lavender and not far from the stream of Melaleuca bloom, lining the drive, softly brown. It’s a short walk to where the Silver Ash pods
lie spent and Melaleuca leaves lie in layers and Euphorbia seems suspended in the air. So the flurry of pods from the Jagera pseudorus discovered on a trip to Ormiston were a rare treasure.
Queen Anne’s lace, of the carrot family and partial to a temperate zone. A fragile delicacy borne by toxic leaves, lies here on folds of gentle green
quite innocently.
Shh, she is talking to us.
Sighing in the breeze and the flutter of wings. Murmuring in quiet, gentle rain and the applause as it lands on leaves. In the babble of brooks
and the swoosh of a sea on the sand.
Keep still. Listen and trust.
Let your bare feet touch the earth and hear the tales of the soil. Follow whispering green grass, to the rustling crunch of parched leaves.
Hear scuttling creatures. Then a crackling hiss. and a wind that roars. Hungry flames twisting, writhing, engulfing and purging till there is a silence filled with wafting smells of the past
but don’t go because the future is standing by.
Rolled and tossed, hurled or flung from salty depths to waiting sand. Treasures from the deep how far have you come?