Another fortnight has flown by, and I have been soaking up as much autumnal deliciousness as possible in the most miniature of moments.
This morning I finished reading The Coral Bones by E.J. Swift. This book was a slow burn for me - I find books that change between characters take a little longer to get to know - but once I had circled through the three women taking charge of the narration in this book, I felt more invested. Hana Ishikawa is a present day marine biologist working on the Great Barrier Reef from her hometown of Townsville on Bindal and Wulgurukaba Land. Her narrative is braided with that of 17 year old Judith Holliman, a budding colonial naturalist aboard her father’s voyage ship which is charting the reef in 1839, and Telma Velasco in the 22nd century, who spends her days seeking out a (previously assumed extinct) leafy seadragon sighting on the reef. What appear to be disparate characters at first soon become woven together across time, each storyline connecting with the other in both theme and landscape.
Hana’s story paints an bleak picture of our present climate situation. Her experience of climate grief and depression seemed apt to be reading at this moment in time, during which my real-life newsfeed was peppered with articles about widespread bleaching on the Great Barrier Reef, and elsewhere globally. The book, however, somehow manages to end with a thread of hope for a future where humans work to overcome some of the atrocities we have created, and, in a drastically changed landscape, tend to regeneration. It is an immersive and tactile book filled with colour and texture and emotion: I’m glad to have read it.
Oddly enough, the coral and climate theme has not ended there for me this fortnight. On a whim my daughters and I decided to nick out to a few artists open studios in Nillumbik today while K was on a bike ride. A variety of artists in this area open their doors every six months and we usually aim to visit a few. The first was Esther Schouten who paints beautiful Birrarung landscapes, many of which I recognised from familiar points along some of my favourite walks. Her work is soft and inviting and I felt the familiarity of our local bushscapes emanating out of her work.
The second and third were a gorgeous studio sharing pair - Kathy Fahey and Roma McLaughlin both working in a variety of mediums including pastel, paper cutting and collage. We spent quite a while talking to Kathy and Roma about their work and where it intersected with landscape and experience. What I loved most about these visits was hearing about how various landscapes informed the work of these artists and is then reflected in style, detail and form. As a writer interested in the natural world I find it hugely inspiring to see the different ways landscape and care for nature can be expressed. Nillumbik Artists Open Studios continues next weekend - if you’re a local I highly recommend taking a look.
Other things…
I made yet another Sophie scarf and have been wearing my Rohan vest - it’s time to move onto something more challenging. I’m aiming for this striped jumper but I don’t think my skills are up to it yet. Maybe something like this little vest could be a good in between step…
This book is sitting on my bedside table. And this one and this one. (And, let’s face it, quite a few others, like this one.) I haven’t started any of them. I find it hard to settle on the next book after finishing another. I am not sure which one of these will hold my attention, time will tell.
I’ve barely been listening to podcasts lately (or rather, they’ve all been about library science…) but I’m looking forward to catching up on this interview with Hannah Maloney when (/if) I get the chance this week.
In her recent newsletter Asia Suler said:
I’ve always loved the term being in process, it captures something that I deeply need to remember about existence. That the richest times in life aren’t at the beginning or end, but the chaotic middle. And that it’s in exactly these moments, when we think we have nothing figured out, that grace finds us.’
Something about this spoke to how I am feeling right now: chaotic, busy, energised but unable to fulfill everything, or every task, but also simultaneously content, learning, expansive and comfortable in this undulating chapter of motherhood. I know this moment in time will morph and change all too soon, and certainly sooner than I am ready to accept.
For now though, I get to sit here on a Sunday night, with one daughter reading, one crocheting, and one rolling around on the floor in fits of giggles as I press send on this note. School lunches have been made and the washing is half done. My emails are overflowing but I’m pretty sure (most of, some of) the important things have been noted, ticked off, returned, added to the calendar. The dog has brought in sticks and leaves from the garden after having the back door open today, most of which are laying around on the floor. K is pottering around in the kitchen.
And I’d say that’s quite enough for now.
Until next time, travel light.
Lucinda x
Love your insights,as usual. I love the Sophie scarf and that striped jumper is so gorgeous. I’m still plugging away at a adapted Stephen West scarf. As a wise mate (and trained cartographer) said to me when she was learning to knit, it’s just all ones and zeros.