Pakenham Street, Fremantle.
Pakenham Street, Fremantle.
Private residence, Airbnb Fremantle.
Some days she felt like a wind-up toy that had lost its key .
Rose wasn't cursed with good looks.
Rose is free from any expectation to be abnormally beautiful 24/7, which leaves her undefinable by looks alone - and alone she is. Consequently, Rose rarely receives invitations of the social kind but isn't bothered by being omitted in this way. In fact, it affords her three good things. One, more time to herself. Two, being left alone to be herself. And three, to live within the containment of her own tangible world.
With such a high level of self acceptance, Rose manages to by-pass all standard dress codes and cosmetic alterations of the conforming and horribly constricting kind - and mirrors. Long Live Rose.
Find Rose in the handmade book or card collection in Bookshop/Gallery.
Held tight by a constant hesitation, in the present time, Robin Small's world remained unchanged - as did he.
Footnote: This Robin seems a quietly brave lad who, like us all, has undisclosed doubts and fears, but has a quiet determination to make his way through these. To explore and make his own discoveries – about himself, about the world around him which he feels such great apprehension about. He also seems refreshingly comfortable in his own vulnerability – perhaps why he’s armed with bow but not with arrow? And he’s a carrier of great strength I think.
Find Robin in a handmade book or card collection in the Bookshop/Gallery.
Robin Small cards pegged on string.
She's no damsel in distress - in her upside down clown dress.
Having tried on so many ways of being herself, she finally reached the exhausting conclusion that maybe all the things she was trying on were just way too big for her. And maybe she’d just have to tailor make her own little world where she could be her entirely unique, odd and small, good self. You'll find her in the 'Clunk & Jam' book.
You'll find her in the Clunk & Jam book. Let it be said girls that to be a woman of significance, of power or to reach higher places doesn't always require a briefcase and tailored suit. And 'higher' isn't necessarily up the ladder either. Mary Poppins lives on in this ink.
She dismissed the damsel in distress and became the authority on herself.
This trooper salutes a time in one's own development when, be it for only moments or short bursts of time, we are the authority on our 'self'. Free from the constraints of the opinions (and criticisms) of others. Our worth and general good feeling not dependent on how many compliments, 'likes' or invitations we receive. She seems to be suggesting that to get to a point where you can seek answers to the big questions from within yourself, and trust in that direction, is the ultimate state of liberation.
Imagine having wings on your feet….You’d be able to see exactly what was coming. Never be trodden on again. And always have a safe place to drift off to.
This trooper arrived on my page a few days ago. What do I think she's about? She has a Mary Poppins look about her and Mary's known for her Super Hero qualities and sometimes imagining we have super powers or a super power watching over us can get us through a tough spot (spit, spot). Wings on feet? Very Astro Boyish. Maybe it leaves her hands free? To do what? Take the world off her shoulders perhaps? But there's no world in the drawing? Maybe others can't see how much the weight of the world affects her - she just feels it. Or could it be a muscle man (woman) pose? Flexing her muscles and being strong? Or it could be a shrug - 'I don't know, don't ask me? I'm no Super Hero.' Or a 'look at me - no hands!' And with wings on her feet she's forever safe from falling - being hurt.
If nothing else, it allowed me to escape through imagination and I hope she takes you somewhere good too. Up, up and away is such a comforting thought when things get tough. Pass her to urge others to take flight....
Shedding Skin On Sunset Beach .
A sleepy sun leaves buoys without faces to trace lingering steps on icing sugar sand, chilled by the late afternoon.
The chalky white drift of a pelican patch invites the mind to float, as a school tickles the surface and jetty sticks stretch long into the Sound.
And when thought interrupts to say, "You know it won't last", and "Time is never so still". You take that moment back into a sandy pocket - and leave the hurry behind.
You'll find this poem in the 'Clunk & Jam' book.