Launch of Mrs. Rickaby’s Lullaby by Julie Thorndyke

Congratulations 

to Julie Thorndyke on the launch of her novel Mrs Rickaby’s Lullaby.

Celebrating the birth of a new book is always one of the great pleasures, after all the hard work in bring it to fruition.  It was launched by the well known poet and writers and mentor Beverley George surrounded by Julie’s family, friends and writing colleagues. And very enjoyable to share a glass of wine and some delicious cheeses while  we chatted with writer, friends old and new.

Hartog Bookshop at Macquarie Centre was a welcoming  space for just such an experience. 

Special  mention was made of Ginninderra Press and the invaluable gratitude many of us have for the support we receive from this publishing company. Thanks to Brenda and Stephen Matthews.  

Mrs. Rickaby’s Lullaby was a wonderful read, cleverly written with well developed characters and twists of story just like in real life.

 

 

 

SPEECH for the LAUNCH of BLOOM by DECIMA WRAXALL

 

 

 

LAUNCH OF BLOOM

Good evening everybody.  Thank you Sue for your kind words and I too would like to   acknowledge the land on which we meet and pay respect to the ancestors, especially  story tellers of the past, present and our future.

We are privileged to be sharing the Judith Wright room, named for one of our great Australian  women poets of last century,  an activist for indigenous rights, conservation and the environment. 

There are a few new faces here so I introduce myself. My name is Colleen Keating . I belong to the Women Writers Network which meets every Wednesday in the Henry Lawson room of Writing NSW. 

I feel privileged  to be standing here  to launch Decima’s beautiful poetry book BLOOM. As most of you know Decima has written many short stories. Her novel, Black Stockings, White Veil, celebrated the golden anniversary of her RPA hospital group, and was a Finalist in the 2014 Indie Book Awards fictional history  category. She has published two other historical fiction novels, with one more to be published by Ginninderra Press in 2020.

Since the poet in Decima burst onto the scene I have been amazed at the poetry that pours out from her. 

Decima draws on her nursing knowledge and on every day experiences, lives of people she observes . eg  pg 42  in the poem Private . . .

She uses the powerful concrete image.   and has found  the pared back to the bone approach  with its  the maxim. . . writing less is more.   eg  in Don’t call me Madam   (70)

shady lane/discreet sign /massage/my shoulder pain cries/step inside/ blinking i see/ skimpy-clad girls in a row/a hard-faced crone/man’s the desk/   Don’t you love that word man’s and you will have to red the poem to find the end.

Decima reminds us, the ordinary is poetic another way of saying that she finds the poetic in the ordinariness of life.  eg in her poem Bluff (11)  

“Dad doffed his sweat-stained het to the flies. Eyes closed he rested, dappled by kurrajong shade.”

She is a realist . . . takes day to day happenings and  experiences and paints her picture with words., leaving the bigger issues as an understatement .

Notice in her poem Hands  (16 )  col reads first 3 paras of ii.

The  poet Jean Maria Rilke says “everything is gestation and then ‘bringing forth’”

 and writing is a lot of that. 

Firstly the gestation  . . . . it’s a lonely trek, a long haul,  a footslog, an odyssey  sometimes lost in the bush,  sometimes all at sea, sometimes desert-dry, sometimes writing  energising but mostly it’s a solitary and gruelling chore  

and then the ‘bringing forth . . .

the birthing  sharing with the world, the unveiling  like opening up a secret diary and throwing away the key . 

and as a writing community we appreciate that and we are here to honour the loneliness of the long distance writer and here to  celebrate the  Decima’s very successful outcome

read fallen star pg.  130

When you write a poem, you write it for anybody and everybody. And you have to be ready to do that out of your single self.    It’s a giving. . . .always   . . . a gift. . . a gift to yourself but it s gift to anybody who has a hunger for it.   

I like to think we all have the hunger for poetry and we honour those who give us this gift .

Here is Decima’s gift to us .

A new poetry book in our world.  

 Like a seed in the moistest earth

 may it bloom and grow where it is planted . 

And together Decima and I declare 

BLOOM

              launched  and planted .

 

 

POEM IN MAY

Michael and I taking a “turn in the shrubbery” as Jane Austen recommends many times in her writings. For us it meant a walk around the block . . . but what beauty to behold

POEM IN MAY

“Season of mist and mellow fruitfulness /close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;     from John Keats Ode to Autumn

Autumn 2019 has been the most beautiful autumn ever.  For me that is because the summer warmth has lingered. And  so the colour has given us its rich glory in  somewhat balmy days.

Sometimes I wonder how many  more autumns will my eyes behold and can they get any more crisp and brisk and sweet in harmony of tone and memory.

If the colours  of autumn were music notes 

the sound  would be a mellow humming tune 

with a back ground of bird song crickets and frogs  

and our wonderful powerful owl 

that comes to perch each evening 

on the cedar tree  

that brushes against our kitchen window. 

We have been vegging  (defined as to relax in a mindless way) on Jane Austen this past week 

and enjoying Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility. (Hugh Grant)

We have two copies of Pride and Prejudice one with Colin Firth  as Darcy  It was a BBC series and went for hours and one with Matthew Macfadyen and Keira Knightley.

For Jane Austen, back then, “taking a turn in the shrubbery” is a way of moving both literally and metaphorically “in the proper circles.” In making this daily circuit, women observe the boundaries of taste and convention; reconcile past, present, and future; and redraw the lines of social connection.

For Austen and for her characters, walking is a habitual part of daily life. In letters written in 1805 and in 1806, Austen says, “we do nothing but walk about” and “we walk a good deal”

Hence  in accordance with our Jane Austen motive, Michael and I  have ‘taken a  turn in the shrubbery’ . . . . that is a constitutional walk around the block and heaven was in the oak trees at the end of the street. The crunch of leaves under foot and the sprinkle of leaves that fell silently around us like confetti with their  aura of colour, They fell silently and obediently at the slight whim of the air and the still quiet press of the branches.

In Dylan Thomas’ wonderful Autumn poem  it was his thirtieth year to heaven hence he can speak of being in his summer at noon watching the autumn colour around him.

I would like to say I stand here in summer noon though all below me lay leaved  in Autumn blood but I would have to say to be truthful,  I stand in autumn time with it leaved all around me still singing my name in the sky , still falling like tears and leaved with autumn blood  under my feet. But his next sentiment I sing with all my heart, he marvelled his birthday away up on the hill looking down on his town bathed in October blood   (October of course because it is Wales that is  his autumn: here it is May I am standing in right now, writing this)

O may my heart’s truth

Still be sung

On this high hill in a year’s turning.  from Dylan Thomas Poem in October

The coloured leaves I carried with me . All the music of an octave.

Out the windows

Music in the colour. Little Miss E and my heart ringing for joy . . .  Beauty is all around

Our Local Bush Walk

 

 

Our Local Bush 

We are very blessed by walking 10 minutes  from our home we enter this wonderful pocket of bush a remnant of Eucalypts, especially the wonder of  Red Gum and cedars ,  The second layer makes  a pocket  of rainforest environment  with its Tree Ferns, Palms and Bird Nests . There is the relaxing sound of the tinkling of water, examples of sandstone and a bridge to walk across the creek.

Here is an opportunity for  Forest Bathing . The quiet restfulness and many shades of green is special. I once called it my air pocket for survival . Today 5 years since we moved here and first discovered this bush it is just as wonderful

 

 

new bush track

moving house means searching
for new wilderness
like a miner after an elusive air pocket
 

following a green area on a map
hidden by development
encroached to the edge
behind an old scout hall
a brambly track
winds me down
through a sandstone escarpment
 
the dawn-sun plays into the hands
of eucalypts stretched
to seek the light
yet their search for meaning
being found more in their roots
symbiotically curled around sturdy rock
 
here dew tipped casuarinas sparkle
here grass trees verdantly splurge
as if their whole purpose is to shine
 
self important the palms push upwards
like screaming rock stars
 
honey birds swing on rusty gold banksia
magpies warble
in the whip cracked air
 
this is the australian bush
how it pulls me in
 
through the trees i glimpse a waterfall
and marvel to think it has always been here
carving musically into the heart of the earth
it has sung its song for eons
 
it is the human in me that delights
nature just is in its own world
whole unto itself
 
it doesn’t even know I’m here
and there is a loneliness in this
yet lost from the world
i am found
and to the cadence of nature
i dance

Colleen