Showing posts with label Hipnosis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hipnosis. Show all posts

Friday, May 17, 2013


I find it handy to be an optimist, it saves so much down time working through the negatives and hurdles life can toss your way.  My man was thrown from his motorbike and hospitalized for several weeks.  It was scary, he lived and is healing – all good.  I came down with flu after my flu jabs – felt lousy for days, got through it, all good.  Tore two fingers up on a tiny shard stuck on a pot I was glazing, copped seven stitches -  oh God that was nasty, lived, and will heal.  That was very traumatic but my co-workers took great care of me at the time, they had my back. Now, all good.  It’s amazing how much you want to make stuff, knit, crochet and throw when your fingers say no.  We learnt that our sons will kick in and help if we remember to ask them to.  It is good; the team is there when needed.
Today I took one of my infrequent saunters through my town, Fremantle.  I figured the bad hand is useless, might as well get some new winter boots sorted and new shoes for a wedding we’re going to.  The morning was cool but warmed up nicely.  A sunny, pleasant day in Freo, watching folk do their stuff.  I was drawn by unusual choral sounds.  Outside the town hall large gaggles of serious schoolgirls in expensive private school uniforms congregated, going through their scales for an Eisteddfod.  It brought back memories of my school days and being in choir competitions.  It reminded me of being 15 again, which, while fun, is not something I’d wish to relive with the angst and insecurity that goes with it.  Better to be fifty and confident and in control of my life, even with the grey and the curves. 

An excellent busker stood outside a surf gear shop belting rock gems out with a passion.  My pal Ger’s husband used busk in Grafton Street, Dublin when we were 17, when U2 were just another Dublin band.  Happy days.  Ger and Hughie are both stars on the Irish folk circuit in Boston now.  I wished they were here.  

People sat at cafes relishing their coffees all along the Cappuccino Strip.  You could tell the tourists by their purposeful strides.  We don’t do purposeful strides much in laidback Freo darl!  We amble and saunter and ponder and relish.  Freo doesn’t do mainstream High Street stores too much, thank goodness. 

 I scanned some massively cool boutiques along South Terrace and scored a divine printed velvet tunic in Hypnosis and some ‘to die for’ tangerine suede sandals found among the silks and velvet desirable wearables in Love In Tokyo. (photo: That reminded me of my Cerise velvet coat I’d bought from the owner years ago, must dig it out, the kids of strangers hug me just to snuggle that coat and I have been asked to leave it in my will to my great pal Marion.  I usually detest shopping!  This way of finding gear works best for me and the stars were truly aligned, they must have heard about the stitches.

I called Marianna who works in Notre Dame University in Freo for coffee, she declined as she has the flu.  We laughed at our being such crocks after both enduring several stressful weeks and we planned a great dinner out in Freo with our guys once she’s well again.
Deep inside New Edition, the best book shop in Perth, down Fremantle High Street in what once was a huge old bank, the kind that can scare you – I tracked down my designer pal Deb McKendrick whose lush label is Velvet Sushi.  

New Edition has a cafĂ©, a thrilling, eclectic selection of book titles and Deb’s boudoir like atelier, boutique.  I’m telling you – Freo can be heaven.  Look at this website here if you want to get an idea of where I live, the photo below is from that site.  It documents our City and environs very well.  

I treated myself to Olivier Dupon’s book The New Artisans, a hardback survey of contemporary makers, like myself, whose creativity drives us to immerse ourselves in our processes to make all manner of desirable gems in clay, cloth, wood and metal.  Oh boy I can't wait to devour that book.  

So, I came home feeling fortified and buoyant ready to clear the decks and start making again.  Twenty-four hours ago I was pressing my face into a quilt and crying in pain from neuralgia, exhaustion and misery, I’m not embarrassed to admit that.  Fortunately I found empathetic professionals and drugs that worked.  Yay for drugs -  the legal kind!  I wonder if I’ve turned a corner and instead of a bus about to hit me, there’s a flower garden instead.  I bet you I’m right.  It pays to be an optimist.  What do you think?  OK finished reading my mind?  Over to the Mud Colony to see what the potters are thinking.