Future Visions

Many moons ago, we were living in a sleepy village of the Adelaide Hills, and we’d just started our market.  The war had broken out in Iraq, and we drove our old Ford with hundreds of statements of peace written on it as a mobile petition to Canberra…………  And that time was almost like a mini Summer of Love.  All sorts of folk from all the stratospheres of our culture came to our market and got loved.  It almost became a cult how loving our market was.  It was a standard of care that we had for everyone who chanced upon us on sunny or stormy Sundays, no matter who they were or how they looked. As the top of the supposed hierarchy of the market, Currawong and I had a unique opportunity to give the power to everybody.  And turn it into a circle, where everyone was loved and appreciated no matter how obnoxious they were.  People came and attacked us, and died with us, and sneered at us, and fought in front of us, and generally brought some of their worst behaviours to the commons, and we all just loved them and us and it, and did our best to treat everyone as equals.  People also came with their best and their most eccentric and generous and trippy and vulnerable behaviours and we loved them even more.  And I’d love to keep going as I’m sure you can tell, but the market is not really part of the story I want to tell.  It was an amazing time and I’ll write about that another day, but for the purposes of this story, there was a particular event that really changed and challenged my perception of the world. 

There was this fella who’d been a hermit for about 15 years.  And he chose the market as the place to come out and play with people again, and he decided to organise a meeting for peace.  Because he’d been a hermit for 15 years he really didn’t have a huge social network, and as it was a small town, not many people turned up.  So there we were early one evening, Currawong and I, the ex-hermit and another friend, sitting in a chilly hall to talk about peace.  The first thing he asked was what peace was.  And we very quickly realised that all we knew about peace, was what was absent from it. We knew all the things that peace wasn’t, and when there weren’t any of them around, then that would have to be peace.  We were looking at the photo negatives of peace, rather than looking at the colour photo. And then we started wondering……..if we didn’t know what peace WAS…….then how the hell could we create it?  And how much have we collectively created all our own hell and strife, with our focus on all the things that peace isn’t, so that we can have it?

So many of us spend our precious creative energy on all the things that are wrong with the world, and each other, and the government, and corporations, and Monsanto, and our modern day diets, and the list is endless of all the things that we’re trying to stop for the good of us, and the planet, and those poor children, and the people over there, and if we all just do the right things and stop doing the wrong things, then it will all get better and we’ll all be happy……………..  In fact we’re so focused on educating ourselves and each other about all the wrong things with the world, that we’ve forgotten that we’re creating it all with our thoughts, and forgotten too, that maybe one of the most liberating, enlightened, revolutionary and loving acts we can ever perform, is that of creating magic with our thoughts and our minds, and in the creative energy of dreaming a positive, peaceful, respectful, honourable, honest and healthy future.  And present reality. 

Now I really got into the more creative aspect as environmental activism, after watching The Secret, and feeling despairing and disempowered after watching An Inconvenient Truth.  I came up with all sorts of ideas to create a more positive focus for our collective futures.  Planting hemp along the roads, and in any spare place, to soak up carbon dioxide and be turned into paper, neo plastic, and all the gazillions of things hemp can be made into.  Creating public focus walls, with folk and groups and schools doing tiles of all the wonderful things they wanted in the future world. When we were school shopping years ago, we spent time at a Maharishi school, where they had a whole wall dedicated to what the kids wanted to see more of in the world, and they meditated on it every morning.  There was more rain, reforestation, safe biosphere, and all the other sorts of things that make a person feel good thinking about.  I also wanted to try and write about it, and create a positive future vision rather than the more easily available apocalyptic horror stories, that are put about in mainstream media as possible futures. 

Growing up in an apocalyptic fundamentalist cult, I’ve been thinking about ‘the end days’ for most of my life.  Even after leaving my childhood religion, I came across channellers, and mystics, and talk about the ‘great wave of consciousness’ and all the 2012 conspiracies.  And now we’re here.  And the most curious thing has happened!  I’ve always contemplated a future after ‘the shit hit the fan’ as being mostly agrarian based.  Primitive.  No electricity or technology.  Hard work.  And Currawong’s been having this love affair with science, and in the last couple of months, for the first time ever in my life, I’ve been dreaming of a future after whatever shift is on it’s way has happened, with science and technology and a quasi mystical science, that creates things based on cohesion and harmony with the environment rather than money.  Sustainability rather than greed. 

And I wrote this thing years ago in the period I was just talking about, and revisited it lately, and found myself adding technical bits to it, and it felt goodJ  I want to keep having my internet love affairs after ‘the shift’.  I want to keep being able to travel in freedom.  I want abundance and gardens and flying machines and funky earthship style homes and little pockets of communities where anything that people can dream up as a lifestyle can be lived respectfully.

So here’s what I wrote years ago with some added bits……

The earth is me.  Microcosm’s of macrocosm’s abound.  Remember that model in the 60’s who asphyxiated slowly to death when they painted her skin?  We were doing that to the earth before.  Before we realised that we’d created it through our fear and pain that we really were seperated from all that we saw.  Before we realised that we were creating it all, and could simply take our attention away from our complete and total destruction, and instead create a happy, joyful, peaceful, greatfull reality with our thoughts.  Pull up the concrete and the hard building scabs on our skin and let our skin breathe.  Isn’t it funny that most of the most watered and fertile land on the planet was covered with concrete and bitumen.  Before we realised.  Before we pulled it up and travelled back along the yarn to the times when we moved around a lot, owned few and well loved things, took care of the earths skin like our own.  Before we realised that all the gentle metaphors the many prophets, seers and poetesses had given us were literal advice stories and instructions to living a better life.  Isn’t it wonderous and lushsome that we all collectively got it.  Got our oneness. 

Flowmads made their artistic ways throughout the countryside and cityscape, pulling some of the scabs off our skin, letting the white and shriveled parts of our flesh see the sunlight again, breathe the blue skies, grow weeds then flowers then fruits in our flesh again.  Wherever they went they left green ground and tent sites, sunbreathing shelters and coloured flags, lush gardens and freebreathing trees.  They also left life enhancing sculptures and weavings and sounding pieces that aged along with everything else. 

When all the human animals remembered their animal selves and stopped being tamed lions pacing round their cages, they took up the artistic, shamanic, and percussive arts, telling stories and leaving inspirations.  They all started pulling up the scabs in whichever ways they could.  Peeling back the hard encrusted beliefs and bitumens and crumbling ways. 

They started birthing in colourful tents and underground grottoes, cool river pools and warm salty baths.  Their births became ecstatic and orgasmic, private moments of a families deep connection and love for each other.  Babies were welcomed into the world gently and quietly, being left to acclimatise in whatever way they needed and their families felt drawn to.  A soft lit, easy slide into life and awareness outside the womb.  A simple instruction into the arts of birthing human animals. And safe and respectful medicines and procedures sat quietly in the wings, in case they were needed.

Their sexuality was allowed to express the myriad of ways and paths imagined by the unique collective consciousness, and understood as ways that the universe had found to express itself.  Everyone’s sexual journey was seen as increasing and improving compassion and empathy for the vast sea of possibility that is sex. 

Death became far less traumatic, as we made it more part of life.  We formed elaborate and soulful rituals around letting go, washing and dressing the body, singing and playing music and telling final stories.  Carrying the dead around the places at home they liked best, and then burying them in the gentle folds of the earth, and planting tree’s on them, so we could always eat fruit from the tree and know that we were eating of the essence of our loved ones. 

We realised we were all one literally with the cosmos, our planet, other animals, each other, and ourselves.  Everything we did, we did to ourselves.  And we created it all with our thoughts.  We started creating a beautiful, unified, loving, greatful, diverse, respectful wholeness.  A healing for us all as a planet and everything.  Letting the waters and ourselves flow.

Because we’re all made up of mostly water, and we drink it, swim in it, bathe in it, eat it, use it and love it, as it carries memories of all the places it’s been. Water and energy, that moves and flows constantly.  For whom stagnation is death.  Water and energy that is affected, changed by, and remembers thoughts and where it’s been.    Water and energy that’s melted into our atmosphere from interstellar journeys, bringing knowledge and memories and connectings with us and our water already flowing.  Water and energy that travels an 8 million year cycle of plunging into the depths of our earths heart, and then floating up to the seabed again through hydrothermic vents.  Water and energy that remember being locked in rooms to make bargain goodies.  Water and energy that are a constant flow of stories and memories and learnings to be heard whenever we want.  Water and energy that contain the ingredients for everything.  And who respond most of all to love and gratitude. 

We became flowmads and caretakers, and whatever else we wanted, and we lost all the baggage that politer religions suggested we leave behind, as we started living the reality that everything around us is us.  What constructions did we like on our skin?  What elements did we want in our water and blood?  What did we want to do with our fertile valleys and shores that begged to have food grown from them?  How did we thank and love the other animals, our brothers and sisters and diverse parts of self, who provided so much for us? 

We told ourselves the truth about how our ownership had become a burden, and we relinquished our burdens for the flow.  We strived to retrieve our animal natures, our noble sovereign natures, and placed ourselves back in the wheel of equals.  We set up Human Animal Wildlife Sanctuaries…….where human animals can just be.  Can remember what it feels, looks, sounds and tastes like when life is lived in bliss, being simply who we are.  Putting love, thanks and respect into our food, our clothing, our habitats, our water, our families, our lovers, our children.  All of us animals living cohesively, respectfully, co-operatively, lovingly together. 

And then we met together with all the other animals and traded, and played, and danced, and sung, and created community together.  Created the magic of community that gave form to our glimmering dreams of sharing tasks and learnings.  Community where there was room for everyone, and everyone was loved and thanked for the unique magic they brought to the whole.  Where we understand that what we focused on we got more of.  And the best and most fertile ground for this community to grow in was the bed of a market.  Spontaneous, fertile markets that erupted from daily living and life around the areas we cohabitated, or on the trails of flowmads. 

Technology exploded into radical places when we got rid of the money god from our psyches and explored and invented for the good of all.  We searched the depths of the deep deep seas and found the secrets down below.  We sent off crafts to the outer reaches of our galaxy and beyond, exploring our neighbouring life forms.  Sky craft became our motorized mode of travel, avoiding the need for highways, cutting out completely the toll of dead animals taken by roads, and freeing up our means of travel.    Run on water and built with hemp and recycled parts, they revolutionized the way we move.  Solar, wind and water power became the standard, and our esteemed spiritual scientists worked out myriad ways of cleaning up the messes our ancestors created.  Our homes became far more natural, nestled into hills for insulation, passively solar and well placed for growing gardens within, on top, and without.  

And we collectively grew up, married the matrifocal mother to the patrifocal father and welcomed their learnings from the lengths and breadths of where we’d been in our evolution.  We all woke up from our self induced coma, and recognised that the time for change was now, and we really were the ones that we were waiting for all along.  We’ve explored the far reaches of human potential, and now it’s time to meet up again, take notes, and put it all into perspective as we evolve into an age of enlightenment, love, thanks, and consciousness.  We all knew the toll, deep down, that our greed and hungry culture has taken on ourselves and our earth.  And we made the changes necessary to make it a whole lot easier not only for ourselves, but for all of our brothers and sisters. We take responsibility for shaping the world as we want it and need it to be for a long, healthy and happy future for us and many many generations to come. 

My Currawong

There’s a lot of stories and events in my past that I haven’t even touched on here in my blog yet, and I reckon there’s a few terms and words that I’ve made up that you might like me to explain at sometime… But that time is not now. I keep getting ideas for things I want to blog about, like all the other births that I’ve experienced and what I learnt from them, and a glossary of all the terms I use that aren’t in common usage (yet), and I’ve written a cute little number about optometrists and another one about space in relationships……but their time is yet to come. But right here and now, I really wanna pay a bit of a tribute to my man. My Currawong. My best mate and co-conspirator. The studly father of my beautiful children. The male at the top of the heap in my circle when it comes to the survival of the fittest……..the male that’s preened and made nests and provided beautiful food, keeps our mechanical wheels running, and puts across the best display’s of human nature that impressed me (and him) so much, that we keep having babies. My muse, inspiration, education, and the most bodacious bed mate that ever sprinkled my life with pure human essence.

We’ve just been through a really hard time. And are only now really realizing how traumatized we’ve both been by recent events…….twins was enough on it’s own, but also my daughter feeling down, and us losing the home that we thought we were gonna live in the rest of our lives, and the betrayal of some of the people in that community home…..not to mention feeling poor and homeless, and staying away from our beloved beach community for a couple of months and finding out about an unexpected pregnancy along the way. It’s been really hard. And we’ve done what most other people would probably do in the same situation……..taken it out on each other. Years ago, I figured that fighting amongst couples is actually quite an honourable and trusting thing. You’re telling each other that you believe you can express and display the worst aspects of your personality (and let’s face it, we all have them), and also believe that the other will still be there at the end of it, and still love you, and accept your nasty self for what it is, at the same time as expressing their own. And it’s a great way for letting off steam in a society obsessed with being ‘good’, and ‘fine’. So we’ve been through the hurly burly of late. And just last weekend went down to the hugely loved Willunga and all the wonderful folk who we love and who love us there, and remembered who we were when we feel loved again, and it kinda put all the past hurts and betrayals into perspective, and helped us realize that we’ve both been a bit off the wall for the last 3 months or so. It wasn’t just him, like I kept trying to tell him it was, afterall. And for the first time, in the middle of a blazing and bitter recrimination that I just HAD to inform him about, I did what I’ve wanted to do for years, and told him how much I hated it when we weren’t getting on, and told him I was going to do my bit for making it better, dropped it all, and gave him a hug. And guess what. It worked. He was so happy that I just dropped it all and hugged him, and we haven’t had a cross word since. And it makes me realize again how very much I love him.

We’ve got one of the best love stories I’ve ever heard of. When we first clapped eyes on each other, I was a black leather wearing recent dyke with short hair, and he had a purple Mohawk, and wore black and shades of grey. Our eyes met across a crowded pub, and we stared into each others souls…….which neither of us had ever done before (or since). And then we met on the busy Katoomba street, went for a coffee, and within minutes were telling each other our deepest and darkest secrets. That night he was palming off his mistress, after having left his partner at home, so we could go upstairs to really meet each other…….and you can think what you like about such a meeting, but that’s how it was. 6 hours later we came back to the pub to cheers from observers, and parted, sure that we’d never meet again. He had a whole life that entrenched him, and I lived in another state, and I decided I wanted one just like him, but not him, because he was far too damaged. (I thought) But no-one of the male persuasion had ever treated me with such respect and equality before…….so I wanted to remember all the details. I got home to South Australia and decided to write it all out. And became a woman obsessed. Within 3 months of wondering whether I was writing the book, or it was writing me, I had a tome that I’d written, that began with a recounting of our meeting, and then became a visualization of what I wanted and wished would happen, as well as an autobiography, science fiction novel, and self help manual. It’s written in the most amazing poetic style, and as I wrote it, I’d read back over what I’d written in amazement, wondering where it was all coming from! I reckon I could almost call it a channeled book. I finished it just before Saturn Return and decided to take a trip through the desert and let it go, and take on the changes that would happen, and face my fears, and that trip is a whole other story in and of itself……but on the way home, I stopped in at Katoomba again, and just when I was about to leave and come home, Currawong walked into the pub, and we sank into each other again. I told him I’d written a book about him, and he told me he’d written a song about me, and our hearts melted together. But he was still entangled, so we parted again, a bit sadder this time, and went our own ways again. Till I got a phone call a year or so later, and he’d left his partner, and moved to Melbourne, and wondered if I wanted to come to a party at his house. I drove there straight away, and we spent the weekend drinking large amounts of Stones Green Ginger Wine, and had 7 people traipsing through his bedroom as we kept telling each other that we weren’t into a relationship, and we wanted our freedom, and all sorts of other pretty lies. Till the last moments, when we’d kicked the last person out of his bed, and he said ‘But is that all there is? Can’t there be more between us?’

I was so touched at the role reversal, and he was so soft hearted, that we entered into a period of a long distance relationship. I’d catch the train to visit him in Melbourne, and he’d hitch-hike to visit me. I was in such an amazing place of feeling my connection to the entire world, and understanding that everyone I met WAS me, that we had all these cute moments, like when he met me at the train, and I introduced the 6 people I’d met in the smoking carriage to him, after telling them all about our romance. He was really into being a debonair but angry punk at that time, and was a bit blown away being met by all these people….the toothless prostitute, the ex-con, the psychologist, the speed dealer and the rest… And eventually he decided to leave his punk band and come and see how good it could get with me. And we’ve never stopped the joy ride since. We’ve gone from both wearing black and shades of grey to wearing lots of bright colours, he’s gone from being virulently anti-child to being the best dad I’ve ever seen, I taught myself to spin and crochet and have done it all my own way, and he’s taught himself to drum in his own unique way, despite being told many times by big-egoe’d drummers that he didn’t know what he was doing and to stop. We ran a market together that was one of the most amazing social experiments I’ve ever been a part of – with the complete absence of all forms of hierarchy – and we learnt a lot about ourselves, our community, the environment, and other ways in which we could be activists for change. We travelled all around the country in our hi-ace commuter van, bought a house to have a baby (Spiral-Moon) in, up north in a town that time forgot, sold it after she was born, and then relocated to the hills around Melbourne for a short stint, before coming back to the Adelaide hills to have Balthazar, join a community, avoid the horrendous Melbourne fires, learn through Post Natal Depression and whooping cough, get pregnant with twins, and get to here where you find us now, wondering where our path will take us next.

But that’s just the external journey. The internal journey has been huge. We are both incest survivors and had traumatic childhoods, so we’ve had a lot of barriers and trust issues that needed dealing with in a gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) way. We’ve always had a huge love and lust for each other, but had to learn how to express it to each other in ways that allowed for each other’s particular foibles and scars. Currawong had so many barricades to his heart, that it really took the first five years of our being together, for him to truly believe that I was here to stay, and really loved him. And I needed equal time to believe that I really deserved love too. It was only last year that I really got that he didn’t put other people first, like I’d been accusing him of for years, and was obviously in every part of his being, choosing me and supporting me above all others. A lot of the things we’ve accused each other of over the years have been nothing to do with each other really, and are more to do with the treatment we experienced as children, and our issues with our families of birth. The untangling of family wounds and barriers we’ve built was tumultuous at first, and is getting easier and easier the more we do it, motivated by wanting to give our children as much healthy stuff as we can.

And I still pinch myself regularly, to make sure that I really am here, experiencing one of those epic love stories that I so wished for as a child and teen. He blends in wherever he goes just like me. He can get on with anyone, anywhere, anyhow, just like me. He can skip and jump through any intellectual hoop or concept you care to name, and he’s always growing and learning. He’s Friesian just like me. A bit less than me actually, but it doesn’t really matter, when you consider the coincidence of us having met and bonded at all. He’s the most awesome mirror I’ve ever known. And there’s not a single thing about him I’d change. He’s spontaneous, never boring, romantic in a totally uncommercial way, challenging, compassionate, and a huge amount of fun. We are so similar it’s mindblowing, and we truly have absolutely no secrets from each other. I’m so greatfull we found each other……..

Which is why we’re trying so hard to stay together. Without sacrificing one of us to a job and a mortgage. To keep travelling even sporadically, and make an income from our passions and talents. To keep our family close knit and dedicated to the path of natural learning for us all. To keep carving out our own reality, our own way, without compromising our dreams. And we’re both stubborn, and both resolutely freedom loving, so I reckon we can do it. I’m going to help Currawong get a vlog (that’s a video blog) together, cause his performance is so audio-visual, that I reckon it’s the only medium that will do him justice. His wild talent is so outstanding, I want the world to see what he does. He can drum on anything from glass jars, to computer parts, to play equipment in parks, to preserving kits, to plastic seats, to bodies, while creating the wildest threads of rhythm that keep forming a continuous multilayered soundscape. And he tells stories and plays with kids rhymes and makes up the most amazing lyrics on the spot. Everything he does is improvised genius, and I’m certainly not the only person that thinks so! My man needs the audience he deserves, and as well as busking on our journey, I reckon he could find an international love for what he does via the internet. Which will be easier on our family time than doing the band and gig trip that so many other musicians do.

And I’m going to flog my blog. Remember that book I was just telling you about? Very soon you’ll be able to buy it off me via the internet, either in PDF format, or printed in a hard copy if that way goes easy. I’ve got this idea of selling the articles I’ve written, theories, books, patterns, and creative writing pieces, with lots of pictures added, on memory sticks, and then crocheting pouches for the sticks to live in, as a connection from me to the recipient. And I’m going to revive my etsy site and start selling some of my crocheted creations that are just sitting around. And write more about birth and tell the rest of my amazing birthing stories. I’m even thinking about writing kids books about how we learn together, with photo’s of our gorgeous kids and examples of natural learning and how it occurs. And maybe one day we’ll end up on land and start community supported agriculture and other community hubs, cause that’s what we’re all about.

Cause I’ve decided I want a café income. After doing 6 years of cloth nappies, when I found out there were biodegradable disposable nappies, I decided I wanted a disposable nappy income, and it happened. I was so excited by disposable nappies after 6 years of stringing up prayer flags of colourful nappies everywhere we went, that I could hardly sleep!! And now I want a café income, so we can regularly go to gorgeous organic café’s for breakfast, or lunch, or dinner, depending on the mood. And I reckon if you’d ever experienced thinking up, cooking for, and cleaning up after 6 young children on a daily basis, you’d totally understand my desire!!! And it’s even Currawong who does most of the cooking!! And we want a big purple 40ft bus to trip around in, with beds that we don’t have to pack up every morning, and lay out every night, and a kitchen on wheels!! Cups of tea whenever we need them. And a home…….where we belong to the land more than it belongs to us. And where we can grow food and family and love and community. Did you catch all that universe??

But first, the search to find where we’ll birth this next one……..

So if you’re into what I write about, and think what we’re doing is a worthwhile pursuit to support, I’d really dig it if you helped me get my blog ‘out there’ in whatever way you can think of, and maybe buy my wares when they come online. And check out my beautiful Currawong’s vlog when we get it happening. And I might even try and add one of those donate buttons I’ve seen around to my blog, for the altruistic philanthropists among you. And hopefully it will all come around for all of us, to live our true and authentic lives, and dream our dreams, and support each other to be all that we want and need to be. Love, respect, peace and freedom to you all!

I dream of Etsy

Yeah, I know, I know, haven't been writing on here much lately, but there's been a lot going on! Getting ready for Tribal Fibres has been consuming most of my time, and I'm realising as I'm writing this that I don't think I've even mentioned Tribal Fibres yet.......nope, I haven't.

Picture this. Gorgeous tribal belly dancers, dancing to rhythms and moods from muscled, good looking and grooving drummers and flute players, and wearing my wearable art, the Lizard Queens stunningly unique and funky recycled and innovative fashions, and Hannah Faerie's one of a kind, ceramic jewellery. I love the alchemical mix that we're brewing with this event, and I'm starting to suspect it may be one of many...

But that's not why I'm writing this quickly inbetween wrapping wire and finishing off belts, I'm writing because I finally listed some things with Etsy. Not some of my more stunning things granted, but things nonetheless. And at least it's a start. I don't know why, but I was a bit phobic about putting things for sale on the internet. And now I've done it I don't know why....

So we went out the back of our community and decided the water tanks were a good backdrop, and inbetween squalling babies, cooking dinner, and trying to get that gorgeous late sunlight, we squeezed in some good shots!

The best ones were of my man (of course) but the green head got a look in too.

Stay tuned for some sumptuous shots of Tribal Fibres soon to come, and in the future I'm going to go on a bit of a rave about a Self-Taught Guild - a guild for people who have found their own path to their passions, without doing courses, or university degrees or gaining any other form of outside sanction to pursue thier driving concerns. A guild to support, inspire, and give words to the esteem you have when you've worked something out for yourself, and have let the inspiration flow purely from your heart, untainted by anyone else's experience or 'rules'. I've realised I have a lot to say on this subject, and my sister reminded me of a conversation we had about a year ago about the virtues of the self taught anything. The idea turned into a Guild today, and I'm liking it.