Snowfun.

Last week (ok, so this is a little out of date now) I went on a trip to the snow with most of my family. It was a flippin' brilliant time.
We drove to Mt Beauty, where we were staying, on the Monday, craning our necks for glimpses of snowy mountains as we got closer. Was it really true? Could Australian-[small]sized mountains really grow enough snow to go skiing on? To warrant ski-lifts? The anticipation grew.
Arrival, and still barely a suggestion of snow anywhere about. We suspended doubt, and went and sent a local hire place into a flurry of activity, fitting out all 8 of us with gear.
Morning arrives, and we claw our way out of cosy beds, dilly-dally through breakfast and preparing lunch, tumble into the car with gloves, beanies, glasses, goggles, jackets, more jackets crammed in everywhere, and wound our way up the hills. Snowy caps began to emerge. Anticipation budded and shot. We chuckled at parked cars, coated in thick layers of snowy fondant.
We were here!! We purchased our lift passes, donned our skis, and headed up. The slightly more experienced of the crew headed off to tackle the slopes, while the beginners agonised their way through a lesson. Let us free! The freshly powdered snow beckoned.
Finally, we were off.
I snow-ploughed my way down the first few runs, and then gingerly began to get a handle on turning. I got really good at falling over. I wasn't very good at slowing down. But going fast feels so terrifyingly good!

Anyway, a couple of pictures:

Snow Angel!

The Crew

Gorgeous sunshiney day

Sun-setting on snowy slopes

Cheese!

Pete looking pro even while on his behind

Spot of cross-country

Yay!!

It was probably the funnest family holiday ever.

(Despite the fact that I slaughtered my ACL -anterior cruciate ligament - the one in your knee that you need to do the fun stuff.. but that's another story.)
And I can't wait to go again. (If I go before getting surgery, then I don't have to worry about snapping my acl again. Good plan?)

Q: What did the cannibal order for take-away?

In our house we always comment on how the conversation around the dinner table of an evening invariably turns to something mildly or majorly gross.

Bodily functions, more bodily functions, off stuff - squashed stuff - dead stuff... I can't even think what else, but it happens. HOW DOES IT HAPPEN?!

And then last night, I was at a friend's house for dinner and you know what? Grossness invades once again! and hilarity ensues.. (I swear I'm not the common denominator here).

Maybe we actually talk about this sort of stuff all the time, it's just that we only notice it at dinner..

Maybe eating food is actually a kind of gross activity and we're just not aware of it anymore, but it's still subconsciously connected to all the grossness in our memories and sneaks out in our conversation! (ok that's a long shot, I'll grant you that).

Maybe it's just that having everyone around, silly-happy-food-eating spirits bouncing off each other, that happens to be the right ingredients to create unsavoury conversation.

Maybe.
I shall continue to ponder this while dunking my scotch finger and sipping my tea.

And here's a tasty mealtime, from a little while back:

Oh, you want the answer?

 Pizza with everyone on it.

Fixing & Building

I kind of wish I'd posted a bit more during prac. I feel like there was a lot more I could have said about it.. I guess though there's always that trouble of what to say & what to leave out for confidentiality's sake.
Oh well, it's over now anyhow! It was super interesting having a prac in Mental Health. I don't reckon I'd want to work in it though.. or maybe not just that.
But it is what you make of it, as well. I was really inspired by a lady at my prac who spoke about how she used creativity in her rural health job - both creatively tackling problems, but also creative methods with people.. It was encouraging to hear how even though a health job - which can seem so structured and regulated and staid - can be made rich and varied and flexible.

I was also thinking lately about how I want work that isn't so much about trying to 'fix' people, but about helping build beautiful things - lives, families, and communities - and how the change in emphasis and perspective makes such a difference.

Anyway, now I'm back at uni, a prac-less semester this time around, so I'm beginning to think (or freak out!!) a lot more about assignments and lectures and readings and groupwork.. and put the dreaming about the future on hold. *sigh*. 

Life as an appendage

So I've been on prac just over 8 weeks now and there's a lot of stories I haven't told.
I should probably begin by explaining the title.


It was about the second week there and I was sitting in a team meeting that had been agonising its way through several hours and they're having this discussion about whether or not students should be able to sit in on peer supervision sessions or not and who should make the call. They end up deciding that it's up to the individual supervisor, because, as one lady so tactfully put it:
"Students are pretty much just appendages of their supervisor anyway" !!!
The whole room cracked up, and I nearly died of awkward, nervous laughter. My supervisor wasn't there.

An appendage - kind of like the extra foot on this frog?

So anyway, here's some of what I've learnt from my life as an appendage:

1. Appendages sit and smile when appropriate. They try to imitate a sofa when it's not. They don't blush when people are talking about their sex life. They don't cry when they get too involved in someone's story. They don't laugh too loudly. When in doubt or when things get awkward, they look at the worker or at the floor. Because they can't interact, they absorb stuff kind of like a sponge, and reflect on it later. Appendages get really good at reflection.

2. Appendages get quite lonely when they are abandoned two days a week because their supervisor only works part time. In this time if they are lucky they might be taken out to go on a visit. If not they will sit in the office trying to keep busy. They will do odd jobs if they are ever given any, improve their understanding through extensive reading, trawl through databases looking for research for their supervisor's project, stare into space, and drink tea. Appendages like tea.

3. Appendages like getting to sit in with the group. They can actually forget a little bit, for a little while, that they are only appendages, and can chat with the mums, encourage them, smile at the bubs. The mums seem to notice there's a person beneath the appendage facade.

4. Appendages, however, do get to meet interesting people and hear interesting stories and find out about interesting things.

5. Appendages also get to eat cake. And chocolate biscuits. Chocolate biscuits make up for a lot.


To be honest, (not that I wasn't earlier), it has actually been a pretty cool placement and I have learnt a lot overall. It's always a privilege to get a little window into people's lives - whether it's other workers, clients, whatever. The service is a mental health one that helps mums with their bubs, and you hear a lot of hard stories and see some tough stuff, but you know what really stands out? That people are people no matter where they've been or what they're going through or the label that's plastered all over their file. And here the staff are really good at seeing that.

Also, less than two weeks till holidays! I will miss the people, and especially I'll wonder how all the clients end up going, but am pretty excited for freedom.

yay :)

Peace on a Page

I've been reading this book called Wildwood: A Journey through Trees by Roger Deakin, and it is one of the most suprisingly peace-inducing books I have ever read!
The whole book is literally about trees.. stories about forests, birds, fields, streams, cicadas, wood-loving people.. Hard to describe, but it's amazing. Beautiful things, beautiful places. So calmly descriptive; gently reflective. Little forays into an alternate reality with all the time in the world to watch a rook, or bluebells grow. It's funny, even just carrying it around gives a touch of stillness inside. (yes I admit it, I'm weird like that).

Here's a taste-test for you:

"Why do I sleep outdoors? Because of the sound of the random dripping of rain off the maples or ash trees over the roof of the railay wagon, or the hopping of a bird on the wet felt of the roof, or the percussion of a twig against the stell stove-chimney. Out there, I hear the yawn of the wind in the trees along Cowpasture Lane. I feel in touch with the elements in a way I never do indoors.

Sleeping one time in Burgate Wood on the moated island of the old hall, I put my cheek against the loam and the cool ground ivy. When I closed my eyes I saw the iceberg depths of the wood's root-world. Walking there, picking my way through the trees, I had thought of it as perpendicular until I lay down and entered the ground-world. This is the part of a wood that only reveals itself occasionally after a big storm, when the trees have keeled over and the roots are thrown suddenly upright, clutching earth and stones.

How deep do roots go?"


I usually finish prac just before the sun sets, and it's been nice catching glimpses of it as I ride home, the rapidly cooling air whipping at my throat, crunching over red and yellowed leaves, the light drawing shadows long and blushing-colouring the streets and trees. It's nice that autumn comes, even in town - amongst the brick buildings sheafs of powerlines, stretches of grimy bitumen, howling cars. Nice to notice it.

Hero with a Thousand Faces..

I can't remember who wrote the book, but Gil based the creative writing night stuff on Carl Jung's work on archetypes, and the book Hero with a Thousand Faces. Ah, here we go: written by James Campbell, a "seminal work in comparative mythology".

Above is a diagram showing a format for "the hero's journey" which Gil took us through. It's by a dude called Vogler who based his diagram/thinking on Campbell's one (shown below). I stole them both from here (the dude writing about them isn't so keen on the idea, but I like it..). Basically the deal Campbell's on about is that most stories that "work" (and the broad scheme of myths & mythologies) have a hero that is shoved out of his ordinary world and into an adventure! He is challenged and learns stuff and changes along the way.. and ends up back in the ordinary world but with the tools to redeem it.. I don't think it's necessarily the only way to have a good story, but it does seem to work, and crop up quite a bit! And it's cool.. I guess, in the simplest form it ties in with what we were all taught about stories and plot in school - setting, complication, resolution etc..

Anyway, whichever way you look at it, stories are cool, and myths are awesome. I wanna read more myths! Anyone got a favourit one??

Place Sketch

One of the exercises from the creative writing night Gil ran for FEAST. Pretty crappy effort here but twas fun!!

Hey! Food! The succulent scent of stale mouldering coffee grinds, spicy souring milk, buttery sugar-crusted muffins.. There's a chip! Mm, salt. Crispy smooth. Rich and biting whiff of... possum! Wheeeeeeeee! Tracking down the cobbled path, sunshine glinting off the garbage, skirting leaf-littered puddles.
Another whiff! A tree, rough-stripped bark offering bleached white limbs. Lost it.Wait - a dull roar - claws tapping on cold concrete, through swinging doors, a rowdy room. Babbling confusion of tiered pale faces, avalanche of sweat and spice and sickening sweetness. Humans! Time to play! Leap the steps, lick salty knees.
The rumble ebbs, silence descends. No one looking, no one touching.
Woman down the front glares, face pointed, bears down...
I turn and frisk away.