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Women’s Ink and review of Olive Muriel Pink by Beatriz Copello
Compulsive Reader
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A review of Olive Muriel Pink by Colleen Keating
Reviewed by Beatriz Copello
I do not think there is a better way to honour a woman of the calibre of Olive Muriel Pink than to write a book of poetry about her life. Colleen Keating has done just that, she has written a poetic journey about this unsung Australian heroine.
With a sharp eye and lyric touch, the world of Olive Pink becomes alive, it is a passionate story told with knowledge. It is evident that the poet has invested years researching the life of Olive Pink. The poet says: “I have been researching, writing and thinking about Olive Pink for over a decade now. The discoveries that come along the way – the portraits unveiled – are very stirring.”
This collection covers many years in the life of Pink, it starts in 1884 and finishes in 1975. The book also has a foreword, a prologue and a chronology as well as notes and bibliography. The labour of love that went into writing this book would grant the author a doctorate.
The author in Notes explains that she aimed to write a book that fell between an accurate scholarly presentation of Olive Pink’s life and her own personal interpretation of it.
Olive Pink was a fighter for justice who advocated for the rights of First Nations People, she was also an anthropologist, artist and gardener. Keating from the first poem in the book alerts the readers about what they will encounter throughout the pages, in this excerpt from “Olive the pioneer” she writes:
Who is Olive?
She defied the silence
caused discomfort
annoyed the authorities.
Her letters shouted from the edge.
She heard budgerigar dreaming
and drummed to a different tune.
She pushed against the colonial tide.
If the answer is ‘eccentric’
in her death she will be twice dismissed.
Who is Olive? History asks.
She broke the silence
her voice for the voiceless
remembered the forgetting.
She visioned justice in the courts.
Her feet knew country.
She carried red dust
under the fingernails of her heart.
She listened to elders, learnt language
wrote down stories, sketched arid plants
medicinal, nutritional, ritual.
If the answer is ‘anthropologist’
in her death she will be twice honoured.
If Keating wrote music, I would say she does not miss a beat, when she raises issues about Olive’s past, she does it with conviction and poignant comments, like in the following excerpt from “A new lodestone”:
The grim spectre of injustice
towards Aboriginal tribes
taunts Olive out of her grief
jolts her from self pity.
Like a silk petticoat pulled over her hair
the air is static in its darkness.
It bleeds through a colander of whitewash words
- progress jobs, growth.
Its handprint blood-red.
The poet also utilizes very vivid imagery, the readers become Olive, we can see, smell, hear what she experiences. Keating appeals to the senses, the following poem “Restless” illustrates this:
In her dingy office Olive yearns
for the vast open country, large skies,
hazy horizons, a slung kettle hissing
and spitting its leak over the fire.
Burnt flesh and sizzle
of goanna still fill her nostrils.
Olive walks country in her sleep –
the pungent smell of camels
sweaty bodies, blazoned glare, flies
dust-blown storms.
That red dust under
the colour of her heart
and patter of Pitjantjatjara children
still running giggling beside her
lingers like the balm of an Indian summer.
The poet has the skill to write about Olive’s powerful emotions without sentimentality or corniness, through these strong emotions readers can form a picture in their mind of Olive’s personality. The following excerpt from the poem titled “Heady days” is a good example of the Keating’s ability:
Olive is energised by academia.
The scissor-cut horizon
of her desert experience
challenges like a mirage.
She seizes every chance to argue,
‘The root cause is not malnutrition or disease –
They camouflage facts, treat the wrong symptoms.’
Heated discussion rises.
Angrily she fights for breath.
‘Even the most ignorant know the problems –
White man’s aggression, sexual abuse
fear, venereal disease, land dispossession.
We like to deride these facts.’
She flushes, her neck prickles as she continuous,
‘Full-bloods need their own protected country
not mission reserves.’
Her tone is strident.
‘Daily handouts from stations
Keep them tied to white man power.’
Olive Pink struggled all her life to be able to do what men were able to do, in the following poem “High Hopes” Keating captures this desire but also very cleverly imagines her mood in such a difficult situation.
Over dinner her enthusiasm bubbles.
‘After my thesis I plan
a full year of research among the Arrernte’
she confidently tells the Professor
and others grouped around the table.
‘I would like to be included
in your next museum expedition.
It will reduce my research expenses
and my anthropology will enhance the group.’
Silence.
Unease around the room
as lightening awaits a clap of thunder.
Awkward shifts and exchanged glances
the embarrassed clearing of throats.
From her left in a deep tone,
‘That would not be possible …
‘But you took Ted Strehlow on your trip last year!’
‘… for a woman,’ mumbles the professor.
Exposed, Olive’s heart races.
She hopes they don’t notice the burn
of her cheeks.
She avoids eye contact
gazes out as one with miles to go
restless to be on her way.
She needs desert air.
‘Why does gender cause such heart break?’
she broods into the night.
‘Why wasn’t I born a man.”
I would like to congratulate Colleen Keating not only for writing this incredible book but also for honouring a woman from the past which like many other Australian heroines are often forgotten or not given credit for their achievements.
Reading about Olive Muriel Pink will inspire you and give you strength to struggle to achieve your aims.
About the Reviewer: Dr Beatriz Copello is a former member of NSW Writers Centre Management Committee, she writes poetry, reviews, fiction and plays. The author’s poetry books are: Women Souls and Shadows, Meditations At the Edge of a Dream, Flowering Roots, Under the Gums Long Shade, and Lo Irrevocable del Halcon (In Spanish). Beatriz’s poetry has been published in literary journals such as Southerly and Australian Women’s Book Review and in many feminist publications. She has read her poetry at events organised by the Sydney Writers Festival, the NSW Writers Centre, the Multicultural Arts Alliance, Refugee Week Committee, Humboldt University (USA), Ubud (Bali) Writers Festival.
And here is the abridged version for Women’s Ink Spring/Summer 2022
Olive Muriel Pink
Her radical and idealistic life
A poetic journey
Colleen Keating
Publ. Ginninderra Press
Review by Beatriz Copello
I do not think there is a better way to honour a woman of the calibre of Olive Muriel Pink than to write a book of poetry about her life. Colleen Keating has done just that, she has written a poetic journey about this unsung Australian heroine.
With a sharp eye and lyric touch, the world of Olive Pink comes alive. It is a passionate story told with knowledge. It is evident that the poet has invested years researching the life of Olive Pink. The poet says: “I have been researching, writing and thinking about Olive Pink for over a decade now.
The labour of love that went into writing this book would grant the author a doctorate.
The author in Notes explains that she aimed to write a book that fell between an accurate scholarly presentation of Olive Pink’s life and her own personal interpretation of it.
With vivid imagery, the readers become Olive, we can see, smell, hear what she experiences. with the skill to write about Olive’s powerful emotions without sentimentality or corniness,
Olive Pink struggled all her life to be able to do what men were able to do and Keating captures this desire but also very cleverly imagines her mood in such a difficult situation.
I would like to congratulate Colleen Keating not only for writing this incredible book but also for honouring a woman from the past which like many other Australian heroines are often forgotten or not given credit for their achievements.
Dr Beatriz Copello is a former member of NSW Writers Centre Management Committee. Beatriz writes poetry, reviews, fiction and plays. Beatriz’s poetry has been published in literary journals such as Southerly and Australian Women’s Book Review and in many feminist publications.
Her latest poetry book is Witches, Women and Words. 2022.
A Summer City Walk by Colleen Keating
A summer city walk
We might live up in the hills amongst the trees and birds
but a pleasant train trip has us in the heart of the city
in just on a hour
Our walk into Hyde Park past the Pool of Reflection
through the War Memorial past the Mary McKillop tribute
along Macquarie Street to our first coffee stop
like a Narnia cupboard our State library
is a portal to another world.
we begin with Cafe Trim for a morning coffee
Had to smile how famous is this cat Trim *
statues in his honour in England and here
books written and now a cafe in its name
a quiet walk through the displayed collection
one painting catches my attention
Maria Little c. 1895 worthy of a poem *
across into the Botanical gardens
where the same tree pulls us up every time
its presence so grand that one’s memory
cannot hold it as such and so each time
we meet it one stops and sighs deeply
as if in its presence for the first time
the Calyx was where we walked and sat
amidst a kaleidoscope of colour
plants and passion
close up of the Wollemi Pine
had me in adoration before nature
its early place in evolutions
looking close up at its binary nature
a tree that lived and survived before
even insects evolved
used wind only for pollination
needing the updraft from valley floors
to secure its continuation
Hildegard would’ve given her approved nod
to The Green Wall
and its 18.000 plants
with shades of green in great variety
and spelling out the word Diversity
this ambience gave us a restful vibe
Further on we walked in a wild English garden
mesmerised by the colours
and enterprise of bees and butterflies
a shady spot midst sandstone outcrops
and sparkling vista of a busy harbour
our picnic tasted delicious
- TO THE MEMORY OF
TRIM
The best and most illustrious of his race
The most affectionate of friends,
faithful of servants,
and best of creatures
He made the tour of the globe, and a voyage to Australia,
which he circumnavigated, and was ever the
delight and pleasure of his fellow voyagers
Written by Matthew Flinders in memory of his cat
Memorial donated by the North Shore Historical Society - Maria Little c. 1895 by Tom Roberts.
This captures my attention..
Who is she really? What is she hiding?.Is she just shy?
What sadness she knows!
what has the invasion of our civilisation
done to her peeopls !
Archivists from the historical Yulgilbar Castle in the Clarence Valley Northern, NSW have recently identified the woman to be Maria Little , a local Bundjalung woman, who worked in the laundry at the Ogilvie family’s Yulgibar Homestead. Maria’s mother, Queen Jinnie Little, also worked at Yugilbar, along with many other Aboriginal people from the near by Baryulgil Comminity
Note below my gorgeous blue monarch butterfly
So that was my day in the city and here is another interpretation of the same day
Saturday 21st January 2023
from the diary of Michael Keating
Today we set out for a solid walking tour of the city. I took the Fizan Explorer Walking Pole. We drove to the station and just missed a train. It is so good to get off at Normanhurst on the return journey and have the car waiting for the last 300 metres of up hill. There were plenty of people on the train and in the city.
The Lunar New Year brought a wide range of people into the city. Many were in fancy dress (Rabbits Ears for Year of the Rabbit) and groups were chasing Pokémon type targets. Colleen was amazed by the range of women styles, fabrics and designs.
We alighted at Town Hall and used the Woolworths vintage escalators to make our way towards Hyde Park. We misread the changed pedestrian conditions towards Hyde Park and chalked up a few extra criss-crossing steps. We did the full stretch of Hyde Park. We walked down to and through the Anzac Memorial and around the Pool of Remembrance. Colleen took a photo of myself reflected in the pool. We were at either end and I was standing in front of the Anzac Memorial. The Anzac Memorial deals with WWl specifically with various acknowledgements of later encounters.
There are four sections of wall where mention is made of every town, village, suburb from where men signed up to join the various Armed Forces together with samples of soil.
It was intriguing to wander along and note places of interest – Coonamble, Moonan Flat, Wanaaring (Paroo), Quirindi, Bega – amongst hundreds of others. The Cooee trail is iconic in NSW legend. Since I was last there, they have added a significant water feature on the southern side (Liverpool St) of the Memorial.
From the main steps of the memorial one sees all the way to the Archibald Fountain at the northern end of Hyde Park. We walked down the Hyde Park Avenue and made a detour past St. Mary’s Cathedral. The sculpture of Mary McKillop drew our attention. I would have liked to have wandered inside the Cathedral but I had a hat and was unable to disentangle mask, sunglasses, hearing aids, hat cord. We walked down Macquarie St to the NSW Library where we had a cup of coffee. Thence took some time in the Portrait Gallery. It is interactive and I always like to wait for some inspiration from someone gazing down at me and then doing some basic interactive research. Today the subject was Maria Little – the indigenous daughter of ‘Queen Jinnie Little’. Colleen was quite intrigued.
From the art gallery we walked through the Botanical Gardens. We spent some time at the current Calyx flower exhibition. One of the Volunteer Guides was very pleased to answer our queries.
We had taken some food for lunch. As we walked down through The Gardens we kept a lookout for a shady seat. We are beyond just looking for shady grass. We were almost at the Opera House when we managed to find a seat. It was a great spot and we watched a wide variety of boats. There were no Cruise Ships in today.
We walked around to MCA to use the bathrooms. This enabled us to have another look at some of our current favourites. Colleen did have to take a rest at MCA and then we were on the Light Rail to Town Hall, through Woolworths and thence to Normanhurst via Hornsby.
Evening meal was a mixture of selective cheese, leftovers and a Lite’n’Easy meal.
We watched a French film called Amour. The film was from 2012 and had taken out some awards for that year. It was typically European film with subtlety and tension. The ending was both unexpected and predictable.
Thanks Michael, such a gorgeous day we both enjoyed. The venue 5 star. The company 5 star.
Welcome 2023
INTO THE FUTURE. WELCOME 2023
Mysteries, Yes
by Mary Oliver
Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.
How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds will
never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.
Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.
Let me keep company always with those who say
“Look!” and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.
Last Day of 2022: Making Peace with our Earth
Saturday 31st December 2022 into 2023
With the now departing year
May your cares &sorrows ease
May the new year drawing near
Bring you happiness and peace. SC. Foster
IT IS TIME TO STOP DEFINING PEACE
AS THE ABSENCE OF WAR
AND START DEFINING IT
AS THE PRESENCE OF LOVE
Making Peace
by Denise Levertov
December 26: Our month to be at peace with the world by Colleen Keating
Wage Peace
If you want to see change in the world you have to be that change..
With this year coming to an end we look forward to another chance,
What can i do to be that change?
How can any of us BE that change?
A poem by Judyth Hill speaks for today
Wage Peace
By Judyth Hill
Wage peace with your breath.
Breathe in firemen and rubble,
breathe out whole buildings
and flocks of redwing blackbirds.
Breathe in terrorists and breathe out sleeping children
and freshly mown fields.
Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees.
Breathe in the fallen
and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.
Wage peace with your listening:
hearing sirens, pray loud.
Remember your tools:
flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers.
Make soup.
Play music, learn the word for thank you in three languages.
Learn to knit, and make a hat.
Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,
imagine grief as the outbreath of beauty
or the gesture of fish.
Swim for the other side.
Wage peace.
Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious.
have a cup of tea and rejoice.
Act as if armistice has already arrived.
Celebrate today.
Our month of December has come to its peak which for many is Christmas day, a festive holiday, a coming together of family and friends, a celebration of the Summer Solstice with the balmy longest day of the year, or for some asad lonely day or just another day with lots of hype and traffic and food .
After a year afflicted by terrorism and war we need a critical mass of ‘yes’ for a new year bringing in peace. Let peace be the way of our world.
December Days summer gardens, friends, parties, art galleries by Colleen Keating
Decembers Days
Making peace with our earth, our world of humanity and ourselves
A friend who is in Assisi for Christmas sent this photo. A reconstruction of the simple story of The Nativity. In the darkness of the shortest day of the year when we wait . . . .in the dark . . . the new light
rises and begins its return. ‘And the Light shall overcome. That is our Hope that the Light shall overcome. Nature shows us over and over that life conquers death . And so we believe. On the shortest day and the longest night may this blessing make its way into our hearts. However that being said we are here in Australia so we have to turn it all around and find another story of symbolism.
OUR SUMMER SOLSTICE
We have always had to imagine the deep dark cold of Christmas night here in the Southern Hemisphere.
Our Kind of Peace
One kind of peace is a state of life that is free from chaos and turbu- lence, from violence and institutionally le- gitimated death. That kind of peace happens often enough in histo- ry to show us that such a thing is possi- ble. But don’t be fooled: that kind of peace can be achieved as easily through force as well as through jus- tice. In that case, little is gained by it.
But there is another kind of peace. This kind of peace does not come either from the denial of evil or the ac- ceptance of oppression. This kind comes from the cen- ter of us and flows through us like a conduit to the world around us.
One kind of peace is a state of life that is free from chaos and turbu- lence, from violence and institutionally le- gitimated death. That kind of peace happens often enough in histo- ry to show us that such a thing is possi- ble. But don’t be fooled: that kind of peace can be achieved as easily through force as well as through jus- tice. In that case, little is gained by it.
But there is another kind of peace. This kind of peace does not come either from the denial of evil or the ac- ceptance of oppression. This kind comes from the cen- ter of us and flows through us like a conduit to the world around us.
Summer Days
Friends
Parties
Art Gallery: New Modern extension
Inspirng Art for Michaels A story that he is fond of still chokes up tlking of it.
F
Family
y
Vale Robert Adamson May loving arms hold Juno through this time
December 18th 2022
Vale Robert Adamson.
DECEMBER 17: DECEMBER DAYS BY COLLEEN KEATING
SATURDAY 17TH DECEMBER
DAY 17
I found the following quote for peace on google while wanting to read some of the lyrics of Bob Dylan
on my December theme Peace. IT WAS A DOONA DAY FOR ME.
Jimi Hendrix famously said,
“when the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”
That was over fifty years ago, and the world hasn’t moved on much since then.
A glance at the news and you’ll see there’s still far too much suffering in the world.
We still have poverty, wars, famine, corruption, etc., despite massive advancements in technology.
We still have to fight for peace, though.
We can’t give up. “
My 11 year old Grandson who lives in England and who has just completed year 7 has read a Michael Murpugo book called Private Peaceful ,which involved him in the life of Tommo who confrounts the execution of his brother for being a coward and refusing to go over the hill into the fire.
Thomas has written and reads here a poem in response to his English set text.
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DECEMBER 15: OUR MONTH TO BE AT PEACE WITH THE WORLD by Colleen Keating
Thursday 15th December
Day 15
The peace dove is a birthday gift from my sister. How special for this month of being in peace . . .another symbo, the dove, birds on wing that speak to us of being in peace.
Today it was a beach walk allowing the balmy ocean to wash and wave over my sandy bare feet .
Attending to the SWW work I need to do and to send 3 poems to Blue Heron Review.
If you are depressed you are living in the past,
if you are anxious you are living in the future,
if you are at peace, you are living in the present.
Lao Tzu
When things change inside you, things change around you.
Anon
And Mary Oliver tells us:
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.