Tracy lives in Australia. She is passionate about the environment, her family and her dogs. She is a Type 1 diabetic of nearly 50 years. In her spare time, which is hardly ever, she is a mosaic artist. She is interested in what makes people tick and why they do the things they do. Her blogs will encompass important social and environmental issues, plus more mundane subjects like her experiences in dealing with a chronic medical condition and unruly dogs.
Canberra, Australia – Last days of winter. Mostly cold and wet. Still no Covid in town.
There have been no new cases of Covid-19 in Canberra for 51 days. Too good to be true or too good to last? As for the weather, it was mostly cold, wet and miserable with the occasional sunny day. It was a 3Cs month for me – cleaning, creativity and cranky. As usual, I took a lot of photos.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
I’ve been very conscious that my Friday song choices are far from diverse. Unfortunately my musical education is very limited, both in time and in place. However, there is a much bigger world of music out there than I can ever hope to know. Music exists everywhere, even in countries and regions where there are those that would seek to stamp it out. A world without music is a world without hope. Take Mali, for example. In some regions, music is forbidden through violence and intimidation. Armed conflict and violent extremism continues in Mali. Government in Mali is also in disarray as evidenced by a military coup that took place just over a week ago, perhaps after the ruling party failed to meet the basic needs of citizens for food, water, shelter, health and safety, let alone those needs that would see Malians thrive into the future.
Aigachatou, a single mother and her children, standing in front of their makeshift tent after fleeing violence in Timbuktu. Credit: TOGO Moise/NRC
On that depressing note, shall we hear a lament to the ancient city of Timbukto (Mali) by renowned Malian singer, Fatoumata Diawara?
For Patti, who has always wanted to make a mosaic.
I always complain about not having enough space. The garage and my outdoor workspace are overflowing with stuff. My stuff. My mosaic stuff. Everything is covered with dust and cobwebs. I love it. It is a magical space full of wonder. Perhaps my affinity for tiles is instinctual, in my genes. My father was a builder in his youth. He loved concrete and his concreting skills were in high demand for major commercial builds. Funnily enough, my brother is now a tiler, a trade he came to later in life.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
At this particular moment in time, I am indeed very fortunate. It has been over a month since a Covid-19 case was reported in Canberra, Australia’s national capital. This means that I am relatively free to go about my business provided I maintain social distancing, which for me is relatively easy. That being the case, I have been continuing my winter training, the purpose of which is to ensure that as many magpies as possible make my acquaintance before magpie swooping/breeding season kicks in.
Do you like my title for this blog post? I like it, but I amuse myself. However that (thinking up pithy blog titles) is about the extent of my creativity in the time of Covid. Consequently, I’ve been thinking a lot about buying a new house – one with two bathrooms; one bathroom for the healthy people and one for the sick people. Not that we have any sick people yet, but you never know …. This (thinking about buying a new house) is what I do when I don’t spend time on my art projects. When I’m in the right frame of mind and the weather permits, fiddling with tiles is my passion. I’ve been inspired by a fellow blogger to be arty this month, so I’ve started the prep for a couple of mosaics.
It’s that time again — time for Su’s virtual afternoon tea. Once a month, Su at Zimmerbitch hosts afternoon tea in the blogosphere and we are all invited. You can bring something to share or just go along for a chat. I am also combining my visit to Su’s with my (early) Friday song day. My Friday song day happens each Friday (except when I post on Thursday night), and is where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
The Australian state of Victoria, and its capital city, Melbourne, are doing it tough at the moment. Victorians are sheltering in their homes in a herculean bid to bring down the number of Covid-19 infections. There is everything to love about Victoria. I dedicate my song selection this week, Love Letter, to all Victorians. However, I’m leaving the writing and singing of this love letter to the experts, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds.
This week’s theme for the Lens Artists Photo Challenge is Sanctuary. I’m not sure what more can be said about this topic that I haven’t said already, so I’ve decided to re-post my earlier discussion/photos on this subject. At that time, I said that I didn’t feel safe anywhere. That is not quite true. I do feel safe with my family. Thank goodness for that because in these days of Covid and being confined to home (provided you are lucky enough to have one of those), there are many people fearful of the ones they should be able to trust the most.
WordPress (and now the Lens-Artists Challenge) has asked us to explore what it means to find your place in the world. Where’s your safe space? Where do you go when you need to feel inspired or cheered up? Do you prefer the city over a small town? I have to admit I find this an incredibly difficult challenge because I feel very ambivalent about my place in the world. I don’t feel safe, or comforted, or any of the things that WordPress has asked us to explore. I feel that I am possibly too much, that we are too much. However, I am here. I live in a wonderful place and I’m grateful for that. The issue of whether I, and we, can live sustainably is a complex one.