Tag: reflection

SEVEN STRANGE DAYS

Annette4 Comments

Hello! 

I am one week into the stay at home and work from home life. My art desk has become my work desk. Totes profesh, huh?! 

When I stop for a quick lunch at the office, I usually check out BabyMac’s latest blog post.

Works from my home desk too, with the bonus of a bowl of delicious veggie soup! 

There’s definitely been some anxiety for me this week. 

food, being able to work while so many people are losing their jobs; these things have helped me stay relatively calm. 

Some nights it’s difficult to fall asleep, and I badly want to hug, kiss and wrestle with my little nephews.

The most important thing is that we all do all that we can to get through these strange days. 

Stay at home as much as you can. 

Be mindful of how much news you’re consuming.

Don’t trust medical information from random social media accounts. 

Wash those hands, and keep your physical distance from others when you need to venture out. 

Don’t forget to be EXTRA courteous and kind to people, especially staff at supermarkets, pharmacies and to anybody working in healthcare. 

Use the most basic function of your smartphone, call someone up and have a chat. 

Stay connected. 

Stay positive. 

Stay healthy. 

Together, we can get through these strange days.

 

Much love, 

Annette xxx 

 

 

Annette: a retrospective (1968 – 2018)

Annette29 Comments

When I opened my laptop today, I had no idea that I’d be writing my 200th blog post. I like the symmetry of a ‘milestone’ post being the first in Annette: a retrospective (1968 – 2018).

 

Self portrait in dappled light, 2018

 

I can’t believe that I’ve written 199 other posts here, sent each of them out into the ether… and they’ve all been responded to in one way or another. That’s something… and it seems fortuitous timing to start this retrospective at this stage in my blog’s lifespan.

Here’s the gist of it: I turn 50 in 15 days. Half a century on this little blue ball in space. That’s kinda cool.

In the course of those 50 years, life has served me a smorgasbord of experiences. Some wonderful, some mediocre, some long forgotten, some painful… nothing unique about that, right? We all share the same joys and burdens in that respect.

What I’ve been pondering, as my blog slowly atrophies and loses readership and engagement, is that while I might *feel* like my life is boring and I’ve got nothing much to say, that’s not actually true.

I might not be having a magnificent adventure or be in the midst of a deeply life altering season right this minute (or I could be but I just don’t know it yet), but I’ve had them, and they’ve shaped the person I am.

Really, I’m a baby valley; apt given that my middle name is Dale. The seasons of life have changed me, I’m worn smooth in some places, and there’s definitely sediment and settling happening! I’m made up of layers. I am an archaeological dig, waiting to happen.

What I’d like to embark on next is the blogging equivalent of a non-exhaustive, on-the-fly retrospective of Annette. Not a highlights reel. Nope. If you want pretty, curated and sterile, head over to Instagram and follow someone you’ll never know anything about except that they can create an on-trend flatlay.

What I’m hoping for is that as I think about my life and the things that have shaped me, I might find 14 more things to write about that are interesting, thought provoking, revealing and perhaps contain some of the kernels of what it is that make me who I am. It’s the ultimate blogging exercise –  a series all about me – huzzah for narcissism!

The thing is, I don’t think it will be that, and if it is, I apologise in advance. Yet, even if it is does turn out to be what women particularly have been told is the ultimate self-indulgence (thinking not of how we can first be of service to others is the ultimate lady crime, right?), really is that such a bad thing?

If I write 15 posts about knowing myself, about how I got to be the person I think I am today, and within those ‘mirror, mirror, on the wall…’ ramblings, there’s something transferrable or that makes one person reading this blog feel like they’re not alone in their own valley, then fuck it, I’m going to write like my story is the most important story in the world. Just for a fortnight.

To kick things off, here’s a list of 15 Annette factoids which may or may not come up over the next two weeks:

  1. I love colour.
  2. I am a shouty driver.
  3. Home is my favourite place in the world.
  4. I’m not inclined to be a follower. Not anymore.
  5. I do not have a passport, see item 3.
  6. Ambition and I are not well-acquainted.
  7. I love hugs.
  8. I taught myself to be compassionate.
  9. Going to youth group, at my local church, shaped me profoundly.
  10. I have no childhood memories of ever dreaming of getting married.
  11. I like my face. It doesn’t need to be dressed up for anyone.
  12. Once I believed I was irreversibly broken; I was wrong. See item 8.
  13. I am adopted. See item 8 again.
  14. Words are my gateway to the world.
  15. My words are worth reading.

I invite you to join me as I wander through the past 50 years. Maybe you’ll recognise some milestones and markers along the way. Perhaps as I ponder my past, it will light the way into the future. Let’s find out together.

With love,

Annette x

Taking Stock: November

Annette12 Comments

Hello lovely people,

In the creative footsteps of blogger, author, teacher, crafter and all round nice lady Pip Lincolne, it’s time to take stock: 

Making myself comfy on the couch. 

Cooking eggplant bacon. There’s a batch in the oven right now!

 

Drinking coffee. This morning’s crema reminded me of constellations. 

Reading books about heart failure and the Mediterranean diet, so I can better understand and manage my health. 

Wanting to keep up my new habit of walking for my health. 

Looking up. The sky is my shield and comfort. 

Playing the new Taylor Swift album. I am loving the evolution of her musicianship.  

Deciding what I’m going to eat this week. Organisation is key to my low salt life. 

Wishing it was a long weekend. I love them. 

Enjoying pulling on my leafy leggings and sneaks and going for a walk, mostly. We’ll see if I make it out there today. 

Waiting for summer holidays. 

Liking myself, my family, my heart shield, this life. 

Wondering about how I might feel if I need to get a pacemaker. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. 

Loving the encouraging, supportive, generous, big hearted people in my life. You’re my oxygen. 

Pondering why I’m not blogging, sketching or painting much lately. 

Considering leaning more heavily into a Mediterranean style of eating. Bring on the ancient grains and pomegranates. 

Buying a new vacuum cleaner online. It’s a glamorous life!! 

Watching Bar Rescue, lots of Jamie Oliver, clouds. 

Hoping to continue feeling and being as well as I can. Combining that hope with everyday action is the key. 

Marvelling at the power of encouraging words. I know how much I need them, and need to give them. 

Cringing at the coarse vanity and stupidity of politicians, clinging to power by any means possible. Their inhumanity to those they perceive as unimportant to their cause is endlessly staggering. 

Needing to keep on keeping on, and get rid of some stuff. Less is better. 

Questioning why I felt such shame around being prescribed antidepressants. Stigma sucks. 

Smelling eggplant bacon.

Wearing my pjs. Comfort rules on the weekends, heck, comfort always always rules. 

Following my heart’s lead; inspiring people; a slow road. 

Noticing how vividly green the trees are against the sky. 

Knowing everything is cyclical. 

Thinking of ways to find balance. 

Admiring people who accept, embrace and celebrate themselves. Coming home to yourself is the ultimate pilgrimage. Are you on that road? I hope so. 

Getting philosophical. It always happens when I take stock, which is why it’s such a worthwhile practice. 

Book borrowing and buying. I want to spend more time reading. 

Coveting nothing. I don’t need more than I have. 

Disliking having to think about how much I drink every day, whether I’ve taken my tablets, and all that jazz. 

Opening myself to new ways of thinking and being. 

Feeling good. Life has challenges and great beauty. It is a privilege to be here. 

Snacking on hummus again. I finally found a great low sodium recipe! 

Hearing Taylor Swift sing, and feeling relaxed. 

That’s the state of play in my world. Reflecting on where we’re at, what we want and who we are is such a valuable way to check in with what truly matters. I highly recommend it! 

If you’d like to take stock, just copy and paste this list to your Facebook page/journal/blog or use the prompts in your creative practice. 

Making :
Cooking :
Drinking :
Reading:
Wanting:
Looking:
Playing:
Deciding:
Wishing:
Enjoying:
Waiting:
Liking:
Wondering:
Loving:
Pondering:
Considering:
Buying:
Watching:
Hoping:
Marvelling:
Cringing:
Needing:
Questioning:
Smelling:
Wearing:
Following:
Noticing:
Knowing:
Thinking:
Admiring:
Sorting:
Getting:
Bookmarking:
Coveting:
Disliking:
Opening:
Giggling:
Feeling:
Snacking:

Take care of yourselves, and each other. 

Annette x 

I Give You The Sketch – The Last 31 Days

Annette12 Comments

Hello December! 

Good morning Summer! 

Who knew that when I decided hundreds and hundreds and HUNDREDS of days ago that I wanted to draw every day in 2016, that I’d actually do it? Not me, that’s for sure. 

Yesterday was day 335 of my #IGYTsketch adventure, and with 31 sketches left to create, I’m pleased as punch (why not Judy?) that I’ve continued to put pen or brush to paper for 11 months straight. Well, almost… I have missed days, and played catch up – which is silly, because actually there are no creativity police out there! 

The point is, I’ve kept going, not because I have to, but because creating has become part of my life. It makes me happy, relaxes and challenges me and puts me in touch with something bigger than myself. Art opens me up. 

I have had great ideas that I couldn’t quite pull off, and drawn more leaves than you could poke a stick at in a deciduous wood. I’ve drawn by the beach, at work, at home, in bed, in cafes, anywhere I’ve found myself. 

It’s all very Jack Dawson a la Titanic – I have air in my lungs, a pencil, a scrap of paper and now I’m here with you fine folks! 

Let’s take a little screenshot trip down memory lane, shall we? I posted all my sketches on Instagram, using the natty hashie #IGYTsketch, which I modified to include the month. 

I_Give_You_The_Sketch_January.png

February_.png

March_.png

April.png

May.png

June_.png

To kick the year off, I sketched along with one of my now favourite artists and illustrators, Lisa Congdon. 

Lisa taught a month long class online through CreativeBug, and it was a great way to find my feet with the daily habit of creating. Love, love, loved watching her videos and seeing how my brain and hand translated what she drew. 

I think the absolute BEST thing about drawing 335 pictures (so far) and posting them online this year has been the way that’s connected me with other artists. I have met so many sensationally talented, lovely people through creating, it’s really helped me feel like part of something bigger, even though I’ve spent most of this year at home by myself. 

I bang on about people’s generosity and kindness a lot on this blog – I know – but it’s because that’s my experience of life online and off. Whether I’m writing or sharing art, people are overwhelmingly kind and encouraging. That’s RAD. 

Thank you so much people of the interweb. I have needed you this year and you’ve been here for me. 

I hope I’ve returned the kindnesses I’ve received, in some small way. 

Let’s continue our screenshot tour through the past five months, shall we? 

still_sketching__July.png

August.png

September_.png

October.png

November.png

When I look through these snapshots of each month, I remember lots of the days I drew these things – flowers and abstracts, huts and shells and things from the IKEA catalogue, and SO many leaves, and I feel so damn grateful that I signed up for that little online creativity course Inspiration Information, I think back in July 2014. 

I had NO IDEA where that one decision could lead me. No idea whatsoever. I believed wholeheartedly that I could not draw when I started that course. I was wrong! 

Hmmm, seems to me that I need that reminder right now, and maybe you do too. 

We don’t know what’s ahead of us. No matter how much we plan or make New Year’s resolutions or how secure we feel in the world, we just don’t know what’s next. And the limits we put on ourselves, sometimes they’re total bullshit. 

That one decision, to sign up to a course that I think cost me $50, has altered my life. I was going to write, altered my creative life, but I don’t think it’s right to rope it off, to put one aspect of who I am over there, sectioned off from the other parts of me. 

With 31 days left of 2016, I plan to keep giving you the sketch. I hope you’ll see something that makes you smile or triggers a memory or brightens your day. 

I have made myself happy on crap days by picking up a pen and sketch book. I’ve looked up more than I ever have and seen more than I ever knew was around me, and within me this year, thanks to drawing and painting. 

Not bad for a girl who spent 40+ years thinking she wasn’t artistic. 

I wonder what you’re wrong about as far as your talents and capabilities. I know this, you’ll never know until you have a crack. 

Got air in your lungs? Got a pencil and a scrap of paper? 

You know what to do next.  

As Jack said, make it count. 

Much love to you, 

Annette xx 

 

Here’s my favourite sketch of the year, little me, drawn from one of my first memories. 

Perhaps_my_favourite_sketch_of_the_year_.jpg

 

Deciduous Heart

Annette17 Comments

2016-04-11 13.02.25-1

I think I have a deciduous heart.

According to Wikipedia, deciduous means “falling off at maturity” or “tending to fall off”, and it is typically used in order to refer to trees or shrubs that lose their leaves seasonally (most commonly during autumn) and to the shedding of other plant structures such as petals after flowering or fruit when ripe. In a more general sense, deciduous means “the dropping of a part that is no longer needed” or “falling away after its purpose is finished”. In plants it is the result of natural processes.

Hmmm. I might just have to stop and read that again.

The dropping of a part that is no longer needed.

Falling away after its purpose is finished.

That’s got to be about more than just leaves, right? That’s got to be about the soul too. Maybe it’s a deciduous soul thing, rather than a deciduous heart thing. Whatever it is, it’s a metaphor I can dig.

Maybe this is what #theviewfrom48 is all about? I wrote about the view here and even though I haven’t written much more about it, I have been thinking a lot about the where, why, who and what of being me. That’s nothing new for me, it’s a theme I return to often, and gladly.

It feels right for me to regularly take stock, because I think it serves me well to be mindful about my life, to look at what’s working, what is no longer needed, and to observe what’s fallen away.

Change can be so incremental that you barely notice it, and it can sometimes feel immensely unexpected and violent, leaving you reeling. I’ve known both types of change.

The things that I have let go off, that have fallen away, are as important, if not more important, than the things I’ve collected and added over the years.

I’ve let go of fears – that I wasn’t enough, that I was broken, that I was damaged goods.

I’ve let go of the idea that another person can complete me.

I have let concern about what others say about me fall away.

I have joyfully let go of living by others’ expectations.

I’ve shed plenty of leaves, heck, I’ve dropped branches.

And the falling leaves are beautiful. And the branches make great firewood.

Living isn’t about what we’re sold, or what we accumulate.

It’s about growing, and it is about letting go.

I’m growing.

I’m letting go.

2015-11-09 13.21.37-2

That’s the thing with seasons, they don’t just happen out there, in nature.

They happen to us, in us. We all experience seasons of ease, of change, of growth, of barrenness, of renewal.

I think the thing I’ve learned is not to fight that. I’m still learning that.

That’s the beauty of having a deciduous heart.

Autumn leaves aren’t afraid to fall.

I don’t want to be afraid to fall either.

I’m going to keep looking up,

Annette x