from the eleventh floor
Hello dear friends,
How has your week been?
Weirdly and completely unexpectedly, Jarrah and Pepper both went off to school camps this week so Bren and I decided to cash in one of my birthday presents and spend a few days in a Melbourne hotel.
It was the most incredible privilege to have no plans, no interruptions, no dramas and nothing else to do but live in the moment for three whole days. We walked for miles, we talked non stop, we ate yummy food, we did a bit of shopping, we read books and caught up on Succession, we unwound, we appreciated, we took stock and we made plans. It was exactly what we needed: a circuit breaker.
These three photos were taken through the window of our room on the eleventh floor of the hotel. I loved watching the people rushing around below, and the buildings changing colour as the clouds moved over across the sky each day. It’s such a change from the trees and the forest that surround us at home. Thankfully we farmers were well and truly awake by the time construction started every morning across the road.
My farmer boy in his city clothes.
Last Monday evening we happened upon a short film screening at Federation Square, stories about Mirka Mora from those who knew her. As we were sitting on our deck chairs people-watching and waiting for it to begin, we chatted about what we looked like to the other people passing by. Did we look like farmers holidaying in the city? Like parents escaping their children? Like daggy 50-year-olds? Like cool city wanderers? Like tourists? At one stage I got up and crossed the plaza to throw out the wrappers our rice-paper rolls had come in, when a man dressed in a suit and quirky glasses came and stood next to me as I tried to work out which bin to place them in. We quickly ascertained that we were both there to see the Mirka film and that we had both known her and spent time with her 20 years before. ‘You’re obviously an artist,’ he told me, ‘what medium do you work in?’ We then chatted about photography and ceramics and textiles and growing things.
He gave me so much to think about and I was delighted to see his face up on the big screen telling more of his story when the film began: Firstly, that perhaps looking like an artist is exactly the look I’ve been going for for my whole life. And secondly, the realisation that although I wouldn’t consider myself to be an artist per se, I would like to think that art and beauty guide the way I lead my life and permeate through all that I do.
I love the chance meetings and conversations that happen when you slow down and step outside your normal life for a while. Thank you lovely man for really seeing me and helping me to see myself.
The book section. - I finished Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray by Anita Heiss. I love this book! I think it is a really honest and interesting First Nations story. I did feel like some parts in the middle dragged on a bit, but maybe they had to in order to tell this important side of the story that is always pushed aside to make the white settler look like the hero. The ending particularly honours the story and I feel like it’ll stay with me for years to come. I highly recommend this book.
I started Love & Virtue by Diana Reid, a story of power, sex, class, relationships and consent set inside an affluent Sydney university college. I’ve read 94 pages so far and I can’t wait to gobble up the rest.
Lucky by Andrew Pippos is next.
I didn’t knit all that much of my Cloudberry Tee over the past week but at least it’s starting to look like a garment now and I can probably try it on pretty soon. I’m trying to stop myself from knitting the sleeves because they’re the most fun part and once they’re done, they’re done.
It feels strange and slightly melancholy to sit on the other side of the thing I’ve been counting down the days and minutes to. Sitting in the bathtub of our hotel room on our second day away, I started crying while describing how full to overflowing my cup feels like it’s been. The constant worry and fear and anxiety that have filled my days for years now, as a parent, as a partner, as a farmer and daughter and inhabitant of the world. I know you know what I’m talking about and possibly often feel the same way.
It was such a privilege to have time out to really think about and assess our lives. To talk about what’s been working and what habits we’ve gotten into that most certainly aren’t. To have time to sit with it and ponder it all. And then on the last day to look forward and discuss our plans and hopes and dreams; from the realistic to the wild, nothing was off the table.
Coming home to kids fresh off the bus from camp was never going to be the soft-landing homecoming we would have loved, but despite the stormy weather and the piles of laundry, I feel refreshed and hopeful and grateful. And I will try not to take things so personally any more.
I think that’s a good place to leave this for this week.
Thank you so much for sharing with me the places and descriptions of where you’re reading from. I absolutely loved opening up each comment and imagining you out there.
I’m off now to wash some lentils for spaghetti and lentil Bolognese for dinner for the campers.
What about you, what are you making for dinner tonight?
Sending lots of love to you, I hope you have a beautiful weekend and the chance to just stop for a bit.
Love, Kate xx
