- Published on
What on earth possessed a human to look down at a chestnut pod and think
Hmm, I’m going to crack open that there spiky pod and then I’m going to take out what ever is inside and I’m going to throw it on a fire and crack it open again and eat the yellowy white flesh in the middle
Because truly, chestnuts are a strange item
And it is hard to imagine that you didn’t eat your first roasted chestnut until you were 24 and walking the Camino in rural northern Spain
Because by that time in history chestnuts had already been reduced to a cliche
Swooney tunes sung by swooney men at Christmas time in the northern hemisphere
Entire worlds away from your birthplace
And at 24 you are walking through a chestnut forest with your beloved
And you wonder if the chestnuts on the ground all around you are edible
And you exclaim I want a roasted chestnut!
And you round a corner and there are Giuseppe and Maria collecting chestnuts
And Giuseppe calls out to you
And you start chatting
And he talks about the niños in the area lighting fires at this time of year
And you and your beloved shake your heads and tsk-tsk those naughty niños because where we come from children who light fires in the forest at the end of summer are asking for trouble
But this is northern rural Spain
And autumn time is chestnut time
And Giuseppe lights a fire and throws a couple of chestnuts into it
And you stare around nervously wondering if it is ok to be in the middle of the forest with old Spanish men lighting fires
And then he gives you a smoldering chestnut
And you peel it
And it burns your fingers
And then you taste your first roasted chestnut
And it is like a hot potato
It is like a hot potato with just the right amount of butter
It is amazing
It is heaven
Suddenly the cliche makes total sense
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
And two years later you are at home in Ashfield
And your beloved is gone
But you have a bag of chestnuts from the markets
And you’ve roasted them in the oven according to your uncle’s advice
And the smell of it makes your heart yearn for another time
And you peel the first chestnut
And the heat of it surprises you
And then you bite into it
And the taste is as blissful as heavenly as wondrous as you remember
And you remember the time and place and happenings of your first chestnut
And you smile
And you wonder how it is it all began
Hmm, I’m going to crack open that there spiky pod and then I’m going to take out what ever is inside and I’m going to throw it on a fire and crack it open again and eat the yellowy white flesh in the middle
Because truly, chestnuts are a strange item
And it is hard to imagine that you didn’t eat your first roasted chestnut until you were 24 and walking the Camino in rural northern Spain
Because by that time in history chestnuts had already been reduced to a cliche
Swooney tunes sung by swooney men at Christmas time in the northern hemisphere
Entire worlds away from your birthplace
And at 24 you are walking through a chestnut forest with your beloved
And you wonder if the chestnuts on the ground all around you are edible
And you exclaim I want a roasted chestnut!
And you round a corner and there are Giuseppe and Maria collecting chestnuts
And Giuseppe calls out to you
And you start chatting
And he talks about the niños in the area lighting fires at this time of year
And you and your beloved shake your heads and tsk-tsk those naughty niños because where we come from children who light fires in the forest at the end of summer are asking for trouble
But this is northern rural Spain
And autumn time is chestnut time
And Giuseppe lights a fire and throws a couple of chestnuts into it
And you stare around nervously wondering if it is ok to be in the middle of the forest with old Spanish men lighting fires
And then he gives you a smoldering chestnut
And you peel it
And it burns your fingers
And then you taste your first roasted chestnut
And it is like a hot potato
It is like a hot potato with just the right amount of butter
It is amazing
It is heaven
Suddenly the cliche makes total sense
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
And two years later you are at home in Ashfield
And your beloved is gone
But you have a bag of chestnuts from the markets
And you’ve roasted them in the oven according to your uncle’s advice
And the smell of it makes your heart yearn for another time
And you peel the first chestnut
And the heat of it surprises you
And then you bite into it
And the taste is as blissful as heavenly as wondrous as you remember
And you remember the time and place and happenings of your first chestnut
And you smile
And you wonder how it is it all began
- Published on
Music duo Synchrone
And one day you are walking down the street in Glebe and you see a flyer for a lady named Keyna who teaches piano and flute and you think, that is an excellent name for a musician, and I would like to take flute lessons again. And you call her and it takes you nearly six months to organise a lesson and finally you meet and you discover you have met a kindred spirit. And every week you share music and meditation and it is fun and lovely and inspiring. And she makes you better than you are, and she inspires you to work hard and suddenly you found you have passed your eighth grade flute exam and it makes you happy and proud and gives a great sense of accomplishment. And then you sing her original music and it just makes you so happy.
And then you discover that she is playing in a new duo called Synchrone and they are playing French music. And you go along to the Flute Tree at Leichardt and for an hour or so on a sunny Sunday afternoon you listen to delightful music that touches your soul and makes you want to move to Paris and drink wine and eat pastries and be surrounded by beautiful people who play beautiful music in pretty little unsung venues. And they do a lovely cover of the theme from "Amelie" which is one of your favourite movies of all time and you smile because music makes you happy. And sharing music makes you happy.
In the words of Felix Riebl, if only the whole world could be made of people like these, then the news would not be telling me of all that warfare endlessly. The end.
And then you discover that she is playing in a new duo called Synchrone and they are playing French music. And you go along to the Flute Tree at Leichardt and for an hour or so on a sunny Sunday afternoon you listen to delightful music that touches your soul and makes you want to move to Paris and drink wine and eat pastries and be surrounded by beautiful people who play beautiful music in pretty little unsung venues. And they do a lovely cover of the theme from "Amelie" which is one of your favourite movies of all time and you smile because music makes you happy. And sharing music makes you happy.
In the words of Felix Riebl, if only the whole world could be made of people like these, then the news would not be telling me of all that warfare endlessly. The end.
- Published on
purple carrots
Vegetable soup simmers away in the pot and smells delicious and fills the kitchen with warmth and heartyness on a chilly autumn afternoon where the sky is dark and threatens rain. And the soup is ready and it’s pulverised to make it soupy but the vegetables within include two purple carrots and they make the whole soup turn dark purple and look entirely un-appetising. It looks like schlop. You think of Oliver and his bowlful of gruel. And you take a deep breath and try a little sip of that sickly looking soup, and you are pleasantly delighted to find it is delicious! And you mix in a spoonful of goat’s cheese and it melts into the purple and the whole thing becomes a lighter purple and it looks slightly more appetising. But who cares what it looks like. You are feeding yourself and are accountable to no one. It is fairytale soup. It may look a little ugly. But it’s contents are full of goodness. And by eating it you just may turn into a swan who loves to play in the rain that is surely about to come. The end.
- Published on
Today I wandered around a lake
And breathed fresh mountain air
And ate beautiful food
Which Zev and I prepared together
And then we sat by the fire and toasted marshmallows
And my inner child positively squealed with delight
At the gooey molten deliciousness
And I came home on the train
And watched the sky turn orange
And when I got home
I sat with Len and we ate icecream with chocolate bits and maple syrup
And sometimes you feel down
And sometimes you feel nice
And sometimes you miss old lovers and friends
And sometimes you need to just let it all go
And watch flames turn wood into ash
And drink tea
And know that your friends are the most wonderful beautiful special people
And that life sometimes is scary but it’s only temporary
And everything in life is only for now
Because tomorrow you may find yourself on a jet plane to a land far away
To seek new adventures and new lovers and new people
And dear, you simply must trust that it is all going to be ok
Because it is
The end.
And breathed fresh mountain air
And ate beautiful food
Which Zev and I prepared together
And then we sat by the fire and toasted marshmallows
And my inner child positively squealed with delight
At the gooey molten deliciousness
And I came home on the train
And watched the sky turn orange
And when I got home
I sat with Len and we ate icecream with chocolate bits and maple syrup
And sometimes you feel down
And sometimes you feel nice
And sometimes you miss old lovers and friends
And sometimes you need to just let it all go
And watch flames turn wood into ash
And drink tea
And know that your friends are the most wonderful beautiful special people
And that life sometimes is scary but it’s only temporary
And everything in life is only for now
Because tomorrow you may find yourself on a jet plane to a land far away
To seek new adventures and new lovers and new people
And dear, you simply must trust that it is all going to be ok
Because it is
The end.
- Published on
Once upon a time (two weeks ago) two good friends Lulu and Lenny decided to make pasta from scratch. They bought some biodynamic wholegrain flour, and then went to market to fetch organic eggs, tomatoes, basil, carrots, spring onions, and garlic. They arrived home at lunch time a little hungry, but determined to stick to their goal of pasta making.
The first step was to get the pasta sauce going. As every good meal starts with garlic and onion sauteed in olive oil, they chopped the garlic and spring onions and threw them in the pot with some olive oil. The kitchen was quickly filled with a delicious aroma. While the onions and garlic were enjoying their olive bath, Lulu and Lenny carefully peeled and chopped a mountain of tomatoes. Soon they added red wine to the pot, which made Lulu salivate a little bit because the smell was so good. Then the tomatoes were added, followed by the basil and carrots, and the whole mixture was left to its own devices to simmer and permeate its aromas into the air.
Lulu and Lenny then set to the task of the pasta. Eggs and a pinch of salt were rolled into the flour, and much kneading then followed. Despite Stephanie Alexander’s advice to leave the dough in the fridge for an hour, the pair were so hungry they knew they simply could not wait! So carefully and methodically they rolled long rolls of dough through the pasta machine, making it thinner and thinner and thinner. When the dough was very thin, they wound it through the cutting bit. Long strips of pasta emerged making Lulu very excited. They laid the strips out to dry on the clothes rack, and every now and then gave the sauce a stir.
Finally the pasta was dry, and a pot of boiling water was prepared. Lenny expertly separated the pasta and hurled it into the pot. The strips danced in the water, swirling with the bubbles, cooking to perfection. Very soon the pasta was ready! Lulu grated some parmesan while Lenny served two dishes of steaming pasta with fresh tomato and basil sauce on top. When they finally sat down to eat, it had been over three hours since the baking had commenced, and Lulu and Lenny were hungry! After the first fresh and flavour-filled mouthful, the pair agreed it was definitely worth the wait! And they promptly scoffed down the lot (followed by a rather delicious apple and berry crumble... also freshly made) - of course making sure they had enough to take for lunch during the week.
The end (until the next pasta making day!).
The first step was to get the pasta sauce going. As every good meal starts with garlic and onion sauteed in olive oil, they chopped the garlic and spring onions and threw them in the pot with some olive oil. The kitchen was quickly filled with a delicious aroma. While the onions and garlic were enjoying their olive bath, Lulu and Lenny carefully peeled and chopped a mountain of tomatoes. Soon they added red wine to the pot, which made Lulu salivate a little bit because the smell was so good. Then the tomatoes were added, followed by the basil and carrots, and the whole mixture was left to its own devices to simmer and permeate its aromas into the air.
Lulu and Lenny then set to the task of the pasta. Eggs and a pinch of salt were rolled into the flour, and much kneading then followed. Despite Stephanie Alexander’s advice to leave the dough in the fridge for an hour, the pair were so hungry they knew they simply could not wait! So carefully and methodically they rolled long rolls of dough through the pasta machine, making it thinner and thinner and thinner. When the dough was very thin, they wound it through the cutting bit. Long strips of pasta emerged making Lulu very excited. They laid the strips out to dry on the clothes rack, and every now and then gave the sauce a stir.
Finally the pasta was dry, and a pot of boiling water was prepared. Lenny expertly separated the pasta and hurled it into the pot. The strips danced in the water, swirling with the bubbles, cooking to perfection. Very soon the pasta was ready! Lulu grated some parmesan while Lenny served two dishes of steaming pasta with fresh tomato and basil sauce on top. When they finally sat down to eat, it had been over three hours since the baking had commenced, and Lulu and Lenny were hungry! After the first fresh and flavour-filled mouthful, the pair agreed it was definitely worth the wait! And they promptly scoffed down the lot (followed by a rather delicious apple and berry crumble... also freshly made) - of course making sure they had enough to take for lunch during the week.
The end (until the next pasta making day!).
- Published on
So it seems Mary Poppins is taking over my world.
I'm seeing her everywhere.
A couple of weeks ago I discovered her in my local park.
Last week I saw her at the Capitol Theatre.
That night I even got to shake Mr Banks’ hand (well really it was Philip Quast, who is even cooler, and it is lovely to meet people from your childhood, people who unknowingly sang and danced into your loungeroom and heart and soul every afternoon on Playschool).
And then Mary’s image appeared on banners all over the city.
And then this week I heard an interview on Margaret Throsby with Valerie Lawson who is P.L. Travers’ biographer.
And then tonight walking down George St (how apt!)
I discovered that Town Hall has become Number 17, Cherry Tree Lane!
Hallo, hallo, hallo! What have we here then?!
Chimney sweeps and umbrellas lit with fairy lights tumbling out of Town Hall!
And the night was crisp
And the air was fresh
And it made me smile
Because anything can happen if you let it
I'm seeing her everywhere.
A couple of weeks ago I discovered her in my local park.
Last week I saw her at the Capitol Theatre.
That night I even got to shake Mr Banks’ hand (well really it was Philip Quast, who is even cooler, and it is lovely to meet people from your childhood, people who unknowingly sang and danced into your loungeroom and heart and soul every afternoon on Playschool).
And then Mary’s image appeared on banners all over the city.
And then this week I heard an interview on Margaret Throsby with Valerie Lawson who is P.L. Travers’ biographer.
And then tonight walking down George St (how apt!)
I discovered that Town Hall has become Number 17, Cherry Tree Lane!
Hallo, hallo, hallo! What have we here then?!
Chimney sweeps and umbrellas lit with fairy lights tumbling out of Town Hall!
And the night was crisp
And the air was fresh
And it made me smile
Because anything can happen if you let it
Meeting Mr Banks (Philip Quast)
- Published on
They say there is nothing new under the sun
But change is the only constant
Find new for yourself
Discover a new everyday
Singing with Indigo Trio was a delight
To learn new music that no other singer has sung before
To explore new songs
To play with other musicians and discover the new
Make changes
Every morning
Under this sun of ours
That glowing ball of chemistry
Is a new day
Original. New or back to the source from whence it came
All is light
All is song and dance
To find the new and make it your own
To be unafraid and just go out and do it
To conquer the old sayings
And make change
Make bliss
This is delight
But change is the only constant
Find new for yourself
Discover a new everyday
Singing with Indigo Trio was a delight
To learn new music that no other singer has sung before
To explore new songs
To play with other musicians and discover the new
Make changes
Every morning
Under this sun of ours
That glowing ball of chemistry
Is a new day
Original. New or back to the source from whence it came
All is light
All is song and dance
To find the new and make it your own
To be unafraid and just go out and do it
To conquer the old sayings
And make change
Make bliss
This is delight
- Published on
Imagine walking to the train station
And along the way you can see the Olgas
And an idyllic beach
And a hundred years of history marching through the tunnel
On the other side of the station an old steam train comes rushing out through green fields peppered with yellow flowers
Outside the fish and chip shop herds of seahorses swim in a blue ocean
And it is nice that someone took the effort
To paint murals around your suburb
The council made an effort to make it nicer
Prettier
Deter vandalism
Art is everywhere if you look closely enough
I have often walked down this street before
And now it sings in technicolour arrangements
(murals were painted by Robin Martin and commissioned by Ashfield Council. The Underline Project is also an initiative of Ashfield Council)
And along the way you can see the Olgas
And an idyllic beach
And a hundred years of history marching through the tunnel
On the other side of the station an old steam train comes rushing out through green fields peppered with yellow flowers
Outside the fish and chip shop herds of seahorses swim in a blue ocean
And it is nice that someone took the effort
To paint murals around your suburb
The council made an effort to make it nicer
Prettier
Deter vandalism
Art is everywhere if you look closely enough
I have often walked down this street before
And now it sings in technicolour arrangements
(murals were painted by Robin Martin and commissioned by Ashfield Council. The Underline Project is also an initiative of Ashfield Council)
- Published on
Image by Josephine Wall
Oh the joy of music
To play to sing to listen to watch
To play a freshly serviced flute
It’s like playing a new instrument
It’s fun to hit the high notes and not have to push as hard
It’s so satisfying to play and be so immersed in the music and suddenly a whole hour has passed
Sometimes the notes elude you and jump about the page and make no sense
Other times it’s like, well, music
And black notes and lines become melodies
And gloriousness
To connect with Bach
Who lived over two hundred years ago
Whole lifetimes and continents away
And yet here I am
This girl in Sydney, Australia playing Bach!
Playing Chaminade and French Romance melodies and twentieth century abstractions and studies and scales
How incredible that I should be here
In this time and space
Playing music written hundreds of years ago!
Sharing music with children
Spreading musical love across generations
My grandmother and my mother gave it to me
Remember sitting in the lounge room watching The Pajama Game with Abuela and she knew all the words. She sat there singing,
I’m not at all in love!
And you looked at her in wonder! She knows all the words!!!
And now I pass it on to children through teaching
Kids this is music and it is the best thing since sliced bread
Sharing knowledge of melodies and dynamics and inspiring people to dance and sing and act
Today I found myself telling fifty children that performing is the best thing ever
And I meant it
How exciting how thrilling how joyous
The exhausting heartbreaking wonderful thrill of it
Music! As Jonathan Larson wrote: “food of love, emotion, mathematics, isolation, rhythm, feeling, power, harmony, and heavy competition!!!!”
I’ve done my practise for the day
The girl next door is playing her violin
Houses apart, worlds apart, connected by music
To play to sing to listen to watch
To play a freshly serviced flute
It’s like playing a new instrument
It’s fun to hit the high notes and not have to push as hard
It’s so satisfying to play and be so immersed in the music and suddenly a whole hour has passed
Sometimes the notes elude you and jump about the page and make no sense
Other times it’s like, well, music
And black notes and lines become melodies
And gloriousness
To connect with Bach
Who lived over two hundred years ago
Whole lifetimes and continents away
And yet here I am
This girl in Sydney, Australia playing Bach!
Playing Chaminade and French Romance melodies and twentieth century abstractions and studies and scales
How incredible that I should be here
In this time and space
Playing music written hundreds of years ago!
Sharing music with children
Spreading musical love across generations
My grandmother and my mother gave it to me
Remember sitting in the lounge room watching The Pajama Game with Abuela and she knew all the words. She sat there singing,
I’m not at all in love!
And you looked at her in wonder! She knows all the words!!!
And now I pass it on to children through teaching
Kids this is music and it is the best thing since sliced bread
Sharing knowledge of melodies and dynamics and inspiring people to dance and sing and act
Today I found myself telling fifty children that performing is the best thing ever
And I meant it
How exciting how thrilling how joyous
The exhausting heartbreaking wonderful thrill of it
Music! As Jonathan Larson wrote: “food of love, emotion, mathematics, isolation, rhythm, feeling, power, harmony, and heavy competition!!!!”
I’ve done my practise for the day
The girl next door is playing her violin
Houses apart, worlds apart, connected by music
- Published on
Happiness is coming home on a Sunday night after a long week of work and rehearsals and teaching and being able to chat to your family on the phone and throw together a pot of potato and leek soup and have a vegetable quiche slowly cooking in the oven, ready for lunches and dinners for the following week. It's slicing up a loaf of fresh sourdough bread from the markets, ready for toasts and sandwiches. It's having Adam Hills and Co. playing in the background, making you laugh as you chop spring onions and leeks and peel potatoes and throw diced pumpkin into a pot of boiling water to soften the flesh. It's finding a double yoke in the last egg. It's going to group meditation and feeling the love and being surrounded by oodles of positive energy. It's listening to podcasts on the train on the way home. It's wearing gumboots in the rain. It's the kindness and support of your friends. It's watching a musical with scripts in hands and being so close to the actors you can literally reach out and ouch them. It's the magic of being able to watch productions of shows thousands of miles away on your laptop. It's about taking pause amidst the hustle and smiling and saying wow. I live a life enchanted. And it is magical. And you lick leek and potato soup off the wooden spoon and know you've done good. The end.