Pony Contest!

I did this little Shetland pony pic as a sample illustration. It's done in watercolour and coloured pencil.The trouble with doing 'hard art' (that's on actual paper as opposed to digital art) is that it takes up space in your drawer.  You are unable to bin it (because you like it) and it's (hopefully) an awfully long time until you die and your children profit from selling your artwork on Trademe. That's assuming you got famous enough in your lifetime like Maurice Sendak (who had no children) for your art to be worth something.  This little picture has no intrinsic value to me except to show a client that I can a) draw a pony and b) am keen for some work.

It has some worth thought to someone who likes horses and /or wants something to frame and give to a friend or put up in a kids room. Or maybe they would just like a piece of my artwork because who knows when I'll hit the big time? Like Bill Nighy.

So in the spirit of someone who just likes her artwork out there in the world, I'm offering this little illustration to the person who most entertains me with their horse story. When you were 12 did you ride one called Bubbles and were devoted to it like Nat in my junior fiction novel Glory? Did you have an incident involving a forward catapult over the neck of a stubborn mount? Go to my facebook page and comment on the post with this picture on it. Or comment on this blog. I'll send it anywhere in the world for free and seal it with a loving kiss (I'll wipe my lipstick off first!) You'll need email me with your address (mine is on the sidebar). Robots, spammers and Nigerian scammers need not apply- what use would you have for a pony picture anyway?

Happy horsing around!

AND THE WINNER IS!
Stan Yee for his fab tale of horse-manly pride coming before and embarrassing fall! Thanks Stan, the pony is on it's way to you :)

Stan Yee Well, there was a time more than 30 years ago, when I was with the church group and we took turns to ride at Kiwi Ranch. The guy asked who was experienced enough to handle a 12 year old ex-pacer - me of course. They were all watching as I galloped away about half a km and turned and headed back. I was showing off, naturally. I dug my heels in, hung onto its mane and reins with both hands and put my head down. I think it had one of those old well worn leather saddles. It was so cool, galloping so fast that I could hardly feel the hoofs touching the ground. I saw the crowd in the distance and I just keep going ... until I ran out of room that is, and suddenly pulled the reins down, somersaulted over the horse and landed flat on my back, still with the reins in one hand. Very red faced I tell you ...

Hand made, Hand drawn...

Bella Rosa- chalk pastel

Breaking news!!!
I am using a new crowd funding platform to help pay for my exhibition costs- check it out and see what fab rewards there are if you help me mount my work and show it on Monday- the best reward is  Coffee with Fi- where I buy you coffee, gossip with you and draw you in French chalk pastel right there in the cafe!

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I lied...I said this next post would be about the character development of the wee bug in ‘Far Far From Home’ the new book by Elizabeth Pulford and myself. But actually I have a couple of things coming up this weekend that I need to post here instead. The wee bug can wait; the book is due out in October and I’ll give it some more space here in a week or two.

I’m showing my skills and showing my art and I don’t mind if you look!

Firstly on Sunday 3^rd June I am running a masterclass at Handmade in Wellington. For those of you who have never been to Handmade, it’s a fabulous celebration of creative arts and crafts and full of classes for everyone who wants to get back to making stuff. Just up my alley!

I’m demonstrating clever gift ideas using reused and upcycled materials as well as some unique ways to accessorise your gift wrapping with items from around the home or garden.  The class is getting pretty full, so if you want to join me, book your place now.

The next thing is an exhibition:

Bountiful Burlesque!

Feathered fancies and titillating tulle; colourful art of the Wellington burlesque scene.

I’m a long time participant in Dr Sketchy Anti Art School drawing sessions. This is a collection of my portraits and drawings from life in the performance spotlight. The exhibition will be complemented by a selection of exquisite nipple pasties by the wonderfully talented stage and film costumer Cathy Tree Harris. Shake your tassels and enjoy the show!

Deluxe Cafe, Kent Tce, Wellington

4th-17th June

Far Far From Home

Far Far From Home- a tiny little bug!

I’ve been quiet on the blog front because I’ve been using what beloved NZ writer for children and teens Fleur Beale calls ‘bum glue’. This is what you need as a freelancer to keep you stuck at your desk until the job is done. And the job in question has been illustrations for a new picture book by Elizabeth Pulford, called ‘Far, Far from Home’published by Scholastic. It’s a delightful story about a very tired little bug trying to get home to his family. And the glue worked- I’ve finished the body of the book (just the cover to go).

For this project I’ve tried a new approach- one I learned largely from my time as a costume illustrator on The Hobbit movie. I have drawn the line work with pencil on tracing paper. It gives a nice quality to the sketches I’ve found, then scanned them and imported them into Photoshop. Then I created textures using paper and paint and scanned them in too- plus a few nice handmade papers I found at Gordon Harris my favourite art supply store. The next step was to digitally clip the textures into the sketches. This takes much time using many layers. Think of it as collage, but on screen. Instead of cutting out bits of paper, you cut out bits of scanned paper and ‘glue’ them down with pixels. Digital illustration is no faster than traditional ‘hard’ media (unless you are using oil paint which takes some time to dry!) But it’s so much fun and allows for lots of depth and luminosity that I knew I couldn’t achieve in wet media (paint). Plus if you don’t like where you put a tree- you can move it!

In my next post I’ll tell you how I created the character for the little bug. Those who follow me on facebook, you’ll have seen a little of this process. But this time I’ll show my early working drawings as well.

The illustrations are now with Vida Kelly the book designer who gave me invaluable art direction. Once again, as with The Red Poppy, I have had the fabulous experience of working closely with the designer to create something really gorgeous.The pic I've posted here is just little taster of the book to come, but to see the whole thing...well...you'll just have to go to a bookshop when it's out!

Chinese Poppies? I don't think so!

for instructions on how to make this poppy on Youtube, go here

Anzac Day shortly; the poppy sellers will be out on the streets and I urge you all to donate to the RSA. The money raised from the annual appeal each year goes to providing services for returned and former service personnel. As a former Airforce brat; with my father, my grandfathers and the all the men in their families having served in the military either willingly or because they were drafted, the support needed after being in a warzone is crucial. Don't get me wrong; I am against war in all its forms, but I'm all for helping out the people and families who are affected by their involvement. Rehabilitation is everything. 

Which brings me to question the decision made to outsource the making of the poppies to China (and assembled in Australia). Previously the poppies we bought on the streets were made by Kilmarnock Enterprises in Christchurch by intellectually disabled workers. Making the poppies provided work, income and occupational therapy for a section of the population who are marginalised at the best of times. In Christchurch they have endured more than is necessary for wellbeing, now the poppies have been taken away. Why? Money of course- it's always about money isn't it? Let's make cuts, let's outsource to China. Let's happily pay people (possibly children) in a foreign country almost nothing so we can make more dosh. It's a capitalist view that takes no account of the worth of the worker and the benefit of useful, productive enterprise to the soul.

So, the conundrum! The RSA will make more money from its appeal by using the cheaper red poppies, and that money will go to good use, but in giving to one sector of the community, we take away from another. What's the answer? Simple. Give to the collectors, refuse the Chinese made poppies and make your own. Here is a template I created so you can do that.

NB- For an updated version of the template, go here

You will need:

• Fifi's template

• Red paper

• Craft glue

• Green pipe cleaner cut to about 7cm long

1) Trace or print the template onto red paper

2) Cut out the poppy petal shape and punch a small hole in the middle of it with a pencil or skewer.

3) Crease each petal in half  to give it some shape

4) Push the pipe cleaner through the hole from the back of the petals and bend over 5mm on the front so it holds securely.

3) Cut out the black circles (if you have traced rather than printed the template, colour the circles in with a black marker) Snip a fringe around the bigger circle as shown and glue the smaller circle to the middle. I used a nice velvet paper for the smaller circle to provide a bit of contrast. Flick the fringe out a little.

5) Glue the black circles over the pipe cleaner on the front.

Pin it on your lapel.

Lest we forget...oh and don't forget to check out The Red Poppy by David Hill and illustrated by moi!

NZ Book Month Pop Ups!

me and The Red Poppy Pop-up

I have a friend who is an engineer, and I am an artist. She and I have vastly differering  jobs but last night I almost ventured into her world. With paper. 

It was a New Zealand Book Month event run by The Wellington Children’s Book Association and  featured the wonderful collector of pop-up books (amongst other interesting antiquities) Trevor Morley and myself.  Trevor has a fantastic collection of books from rare collector's items by Ernest Nister through to amazing Star Wars pop ups complete with light sabres!  The young boys in the audience were entranced by the books and all thoughts of Playstation were gone from their heads as they contemplated the mechanics involved in the engineering before them.

Trevor also had an 'Adult' selection which required a driver’s license and proof of age to view. Much giggling was heard in the corner (oh, was that from me?) as pop ups of all sorts abounded. Trevor was a former vice squad cop, so he was at pains to make sure that no one was accidentally offended or over educated by a mistaken viewing.

I turned my hand to simple engineering and showed how to make words pop up to make simple and effective greeting cards, then went on to a larger project; making a pop up diorama of The Red Poppy; the book that has occupied my illustration career for a few months past. Everyone got to make a smaller black and white version of it too, with the help of the Storylines scissors and glue sticks kit that we use each year for arts and crafts at the festival day.

I promised the enthusiastic audience some links to useful sites that show how to make pop ups.

Here they are:

Extreme Cards:  this one has all the different sorts of cards you will ever need- very useful! It also has a pattern for the Volvelle; the disappearing picture- a bit tricky to get right but worth persevering with 

Popular Kinetics is another useful site- I particularly like the ‘make your own Occupy tent’ one. This site has lots of card ideas- just click on all the pages and occupy yourself for hours! 

 And, if you want to make a Red Poppy scenario this is how you do it:

1) Download the pictures below and print out 2 copies  of the background image and one of the characters. The line image is a guide for tracing onto the back of one of the backgrounds.

2) Fold and crease the backgrounds images in half one way and then the other so they it fold easily either way.

3) On ONE of the background images, cut along the solid lines (not the dotted ones)

4) Fold and crease along the dotted lines and make sure they bend from either side easily

5) Open  it up and push the cut areas out so they form box shapes; this is what you'll glue your other character pieces to. Lay it down flat again for the next bit.

6) Cut out Jim, Nipper and the poppies and glue them to the front of the 'boxes' you have pushed out.

7) Glue the other background to the back of the pop up, making sure you don't glue it to the box parts that pop out!

8) Open it all up and there you go! Jim on the battlefield heading  towards the patch of poppies in No Man's Land and Nipper the brave little messenger dog, waiting  to rescue him!

Now go to the Children's Bookshop in Kilbirnie and buy a copy- it'll help keep me and David Hill working to produce some more lovely things to look and read :)

Happy NZ Book Month everyone!

instructions

cutting and folding guide- lay along the centre of your paper

Jim, Nipper and poppies

Background- print 2

© Fifi Colston 2012

Hidden Treasure

I'm quite busy at the moment; what with the launch of The Red Poppy tonight at the Children's Bookshop in Kilbirnie, working on another picture book for Scholastic and tearing the kitchen apart to create a nice clean space for new joinery. When I say 'I' in regard to the kitchen demolition, I mean Graham our builder who mercifully understands my appreciation of the layers of old wallpaper being uncovered in our 1910 villa. He stands aside whilst I photograph, peel and save patches of history, exclaiming all the while 'Oh, this is where they did a renovation in 1980, and this wonderful pattern from 1960 and... why this must be from the second world war, and this... wow that's on top of the original scrim!'

We have found no less than 7 layers of wallpaper paint and scrim; each telling its own particular story. This is more exciting for me than the prospect of a new kitchen (in which I will have no more excuses not to cook).

Graham beckoned me over yesterday and said 'Look what I found' and there, tucked in between the wallboards and floor were an old pocket knife and a Red Triangle Badge. I googled the latter and found out this information:

The minister of Internal Affairs approved the Y.M.C.A to hold a public appeal for funds to assist their war work. It was decided that the appeal would be known as "Red Triangle Day" to be held on March 15th, 1917. The YMCA undertook considerable work within New Zealand and especially overseas during the war, providing Christian based home comforts, accommodation, social and recreational facilities and entertainment, convalescent facilities, and canteens. Providing Christian based facilities and fellowship was seen as a necessary alternative to safeguard soldiers from often immoral and corrupting alternatives.

It is serendipitous (and just a little spooky) that we found the badge this week, and our Anzac book launch is today, March 14th, 95 years later almost to the day. I like to think it is a sign from the universe that our efforts are being recognised and those soldiers who were thrown to the lions in WW1 approve. We live today, as they would have hoped, in a country unaffected by the hardship and terror of war; long may it continue.

The Red Poppy: Blossoming

So...the next exciting thing on my social calendar is the launch of The Red Poppy on March 14th at The Children's Bookshop. Beautifully written by David Hill, this is the book I spent half of last year illustrating (with the helpful assistance of Creative New Zealand). It seems to be being well received so far and we are getting lots of very positive feedback about it. Nipper, the brave little messenger dog is going to be at the launch- her real name is Molly and she will be freshly washed and available for patting and posing with. As long as she's fed the odd Anzac biscuit I think she'll be in heaven. I have been asked what drove me to illustrate the book- because as you know, this is mostly a labour of love and there is certainly no guarantee that something you have poured your talents on and sells well will make the book awards and be recognised in the way that we all crave. So I answered with the following:

My husband’s grandfather Rothwell, wrote postcards to his fiancé Hilda, from 1914-1918. Particularly poignant were two from France; they said simply “Am O.K” and “Keep smiling!” I was in the process of scanning and blogging these cards for the family when Scholastic asked me if I would look at a very special story to illustrate. I had decided some time ago that the next book I illustrated had to really mean something to me on a very personal level. Illustrating a book is a labour of love and I wanted to make a body of work that would enthral me and push me to produce as excellent work as I could. For that I’d need to relate to the story; it had to move me. Then I read David’s manuscript.  Jim’s letter home never mentioning the horrors of the trenches struck an immediate chord with me; those cheerful words from a young man, disguising the reality of his situation. Rothwell did come home from France to be a husband and father, but was far from ‘o.k’; dying just a few short years later from the cruel ravages of his war experience. Illustrating this book has been a journey through his time for me. I visited war museums, studied WW1 uniform, grew red poppies, photographed mud and rubbed chalk pastel until my fingers bled. I have learned much and my artwork is a tribute to him. It’s been a real pleasure working with David, Diana and Penny at Scholastic and Penny Newman the brilliant book designer who created the vision with me.

If you can, please come to the launch and have a Red Cross Battenburg Biscuit (my son, trainee chef is making them special like) and a glass of wine and help us celebrate our efforts and remember those who went before us, uncertain into war seeking a positive future. Which is what I hope this book will have :)

Jim

Steamy Affairs

So, I’ve joined a writers group. It was by accident really; I just thought I was going to lunch with a new literary friend, but now find I am signed up for monthly critiques and in depth analysis of my work. Apparently it’s not all about drinking copious quantities of wine and gossiping- that’s a bookclub. Darn.

I have my reservations about all of this- and it’s nothing to do with the people. They are wonderful and talented and generous with ideas. It’s me. I haven’t written anything approaching a body of work since...oh... my last novel, Glory, which was published in 2009; I wrote it in 2007. That’s basically, well you do the math, subtraction was never my strong point- I only add stuff to my life. Which I have done cheerfully for the last few years; Wearable Art, working on TV and in the film industry, illustrating, running workshops...but add another word to my novel(s). Well that’s a bit of a problem. 

I had a long discussion about this with Brian Falkner and Kyle Mewburn at the recent Bloom Family Festival where we were contracted to tell stories and run workshops. It was a very happy weekend with fellow writers, artists and of course our audiences. I shared accommodation with the boys and was most impressed to see Brian tapping away at his Macbook each morning before we forayed out to the festival. He was finishing his next work; I was just trying to wake up and smell the coffee.

‘Why?’ I said, ‘can’t I just finish my sodding novel?’

‘Do you like what you are writing?’ they said.

‘Yes- I think it has legs and backbones to boot.’

‘So how did you write the other ones?’ they asked.

‘I just sat down and wrote them.’

And I did- Verity’s Truth was for a competition with a deadline. Janie Olive was as a distraction from the thesis script I was writing whilst doing my MA at the IIML, and Glory just because I could and had something to say out loud about not winning prizes. None of them took me that long and I had so much fun bashing away with two fingers at my keyboard, delighting myself with words and fitting all the parts of the plot puzzle together.

‘So what’s different with this one?’ they said.

‘I’ve shown it to people before it’s done.’

‘Ah,’ said Brian, ‘in the words of Stephen King, in his book On Writing, you’ve let the steam out.’

And that is exactly what I’ve done. I’ve committed the cardinal sin of showing too many people the WIP and asking for their opinions. And they, being wonderful and generous and knowledgeable, have given them. Shit- what an idiot! I now have not one, but two unfinished first drafts with lots of conflicting sticky notes and pencilled comments. And I know better than that. Really.

In all my other work practice- making wearable art, illustrating a book, designing a workshop, making crafts for TV...I NEVER show my rough ideas to others for comment. There are two reasons for this:

The first is that they might not understand what I’m trying to do before the problem solving is done and give unwanted advice from their perspective on how it should go. For instance, if I’m trying to make a piece of wearable art that says something about, oh let’s say... Arthritis (I’m not by the way), then I may have a real life experience of it that is different from another person’s. The thing I want to impart about it and the expression of that view (down to the materials and method used to make the artwork) will be different in my cerebral cortex than any other artist’s. If  I ask for advice on an unfinished plan, I’ll get helpful suggestions on what to show, what to say and what technique to employ- from SOMEONE ELSE’s experience. That’s no good to me at all- it will confuse me and make me doubt my conviction. This is very different from asking someone how to do resin casting so I can make the bone centrepiece that I’ve designed (and I haven’t ...once again, this is not a real piece I am making. This year I’m doing a Bizarre Bra which has nothing to do with aching limbs- aching fingers whilst I make it perhaps...). I only need structural help when I’ve made the creative plan. This is what an editor will do for a manuscript ... are you reading this Penny? (my beloved Scholastic editor). 

The second reason for not showing your undies before you’ve got dressed so to speak, is that you lose the excitement of knowing you have something that is only known to you. It’s your sly secret; your guilty pleasure, an affair with a whole world and bunch of characters that only YOU know about. It’s your illicit lover, to which you’ll go back late at night when everyone is asleep and you’ll play with each other and dream impossible things that ordinary life doesn’t allow. You won’t leave it alone until the passion has run its course; the first draft at least will be finished. 

And as Brian said whilst his fingers stroked the keyboard, a naughty smile on his face (yes I was watching Brian!), I’ve let the steam out. The passion and the thrill has gone and I don’t know how to get it back... I’m stuck with the predictability of everyday life whilst my writing muse is off shagging someone else’s brain and making them uber productive and on the way to writerly fame (Kyle Mewburn, that will be you). Apologies for the overly sexual nature of these analogies, but without passion all art is merely inoffensive wallpaper- and I DO have a bodice ripper I’m working on as well as a YA.

So, at our writer’s group meeting, we said what we’d like help with and what we would share and how long critiques would be etc etc. I declared that I would NOT be sharing anything and didn’t want critiques (the ones we had at the IIML nearly scarred me for life). But I DID want the group to hold me to account regarding finishing the YA at least. I gave them full permission to beat me with my own pages if I have not progressed from one meeting to the next. They cheerfully agreed.

Holy moley, I’d better start writing, or the next time you see me I’ll be covered in paper cuts.

Blanket Man, I owe you...

photo from www.stuff.co.nz

Yesterday Blanket Man died. Ben Hana was a well known Wellington icon; I’m not going to write about his life. You can read about him here and here. I passed him often on the street and we always shared a mutual nod of gidday, kia ora, how’s it goin? He really enraged some people- those that don’t like the streets littered with anything other than designer brands and successful people. But he never bothered me... because he never begged.

When I first became aware of Blanket Man, we had just returned from nearly 2 years living in Bristol. The streets of English cities are lined with beggars; mostly under the ATMs. They sleep there in blue, purple and red Asda sleeping bags, waiting for you to get your early morning cash and ask you for some. They approach you in train stations, London tubes, street corners and, well anywhere you might have change jangling in your pockets. They are all suffering from the particular poverty caused by drug and alcohol abuse. The money you give them won’t go to pay the rent or buy food for the child some of them drag along with them. It will go straight down their throats, up their noses or into their veins. After the first assault on your social senses you soon become immune and cease to notice them. So coming back to Wellington I was shocked to see beggars on the street, where buskers used to play. I thought ‘This is a joke right? they are pretending to beg and any minute now a candid camera style crew will leap out and say ‘Haha!’ as I try and avoid the entreaties of the man or woman in front of me asking for a dollar. Where the heck did they come from? And what happened to their welfare benefit?

The old days of alcoholics sitting down at Cabbage Patch Corner or in Pigeon Park sharing a happy flagon of sherry and slurring amongst themselves has now gone it seems. Now they feel the need to ask for money. Is this a mark of the recession?  Or did they Google their contemporaries in the U.K and take a few tips? Either way I do not support begging in any form where there is (barely) adequate state assistance. Which brings me back to Blanket Man. He never asked for anything but a smile or a nod. My daughter waitressed at Nicolini’s Italian Restaurant for 4 years on Courtenay Place and said he always paid for his meal, ate it on the street and returned the plate when finished. You might ask why he didn’t cook for himself? I ask you, where would he keep his pantry store? Not in his pants. He never wore any!

At the same time as returning from Bristol, I had been accepted into the IIML to do a MA in Scriptwriting. I was incredibly excited to be accepted into a select group of ten masters’ students and set about figuring out what my thesis script would be about. Suddenly any creative inclinations scarpered from my brain like unruly terriers off after rabbits; they didn’t bring any back though and I was left panicking. Each morning I would catch the bus into town, walk up to Uni bereft of ideas, nodding to Blanket Man on the way and wondering who he was and why he was dressed in a loin cloth, saying nothing, smiling at the sun and the passersby. He seemed so at ease with himself and the world around him. No begging bowl, no sign imploring charity; the only hand outstretched was to wave. I thought in another setting he’d look like a Tohunga. I called him The Chief in my mind and played with the idea that he wasn’t really a homeless person at all, but someone from a different realm keeping an eye on us and influencing outcomes where help was needed.

Then one day I wrote these words:

A figure wrapped in a blanket materialises on a park bench. As Becka passes, the blanket twitches. C/U on a rheumy old eye opening and gazing after Becka.

I had it! I had my thesis idea, Wild Cards, a kid’s TV drama  was on its way. I finished it, got a Merit pass, wore a capping gown and morter board and have since played with turning the whole script into a novel. I think it has legs, and when I think of the Chief in my story, I always see Ben Hana his own legs crossed and hold out my hand in thanks. I didn’t give him anything at all, but he gave me heaps.

Blooming heck- it's 2012!

Back to work this week.... for my SO this has been a very physical thing. He had to get up when the alarm rang at 7am, drag himself to the shower and put on suitable clothing for going to an office. He left the house at 8.15am when I was still slapping myself around the face to try and wake up. I contemplated going back to bed the minute he had left the building but that seemed like too much of an act of no solidarity. I drank coffee in my lounging pyjamas until 10am instead- at least I was semi conscious. The cat might disagree; I noticed he’d knocked his bag of biscuits to the floor and helped himself. Breakfast was obviously not fast enough for him.

Freelancing is a very different way of working and I have been used to years of frantic deadlines up until Christmas Eve and then nothing until mid February- when the salaried workers have finally shuffled enough paper to prepare briefs and deadlines for the following year. I’m under no illusions about the productivity of an office in the weeks before Waitangi Day. Everyone is thinking about the summer break they had (or didn’t have because of flooding at their camping spot), the BBQ’s still to be had (with good weather finally kicking in) and the ever present needs of children still on holiday (unless you are the CEO of a City Council that is...sorry to cast aspersions Tony). They are there in body but minds have yet to catch up and throw themselves into unwilling craniums. It's the Stepford time of summer, and everyone's a robot in the workplace.

For years I’ve been grateful for the lack of commissions over the latter part of January. It's allowed endless holiday time (unpaid of course) in which to potter about, read, go to movies with the kids, dig about in the garden and foray to the beach, weather permitting. Jan 9^th to Feb 7^th was the caregiver’s dream instead of the working mother’s nightmare. It has also created a Pavlovian reaction in me to the extent that I find myself on January 11^th unable to drag myself back to my workstation for anything other than Facebooking, Googling why my Android phone won’t download apps anymore (oh the hours I can waste with this one!) and looking up recipes for great salads (we have a lot of courgettes and spinach coming on...)

This wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have things to do- namely finish illustrations for an educational reader, start pencil roughs for a picture book and create finished collages for an iPad app. This is apart from two entries for Wearable Art I have planned and the ever present novel I owe it to my conscience to finish writing. I feel terribly guilty at not doing anything more productive than helping my daughter sort through her stuff to sell before moving to another city and giving my son a lift to Bunnings to buy wood for a project he’s building at his flat. I SHOULD be into it, raring to go and leaping into action. I SHOULD be planning my year and how I’m going to take over the world Fifi style. I SHOULD be reading worthy books to feed the literary part of my mind. I SHOULD be pounding away at the keyboard, writing something other than this post and creating enormous success for my future. I WAS supposed to do a hot air balloon ride this year as research for that bit of writing...

But actually, when I read the last line of Harriet’s blog, “Life can change in an instant so appreciate every one, who knows what is around the corner?” the wise words of my friend’s beautiful 18 year old daughter dealing with cancer, I realised that what I’m doing right now is fine; spending time with my family and nibbling around the edges of work. I’ll get it done- I’m good at reaching deadlines; I pride myself on it.

I’ll finish writing the novel, if I finish writing the novel. It won’t change anyone’s life except my own if I do or if I don’t. And even then not by much. I might even biff it off the hard drive and free up some bytes for more blogs! 

This year I’m not going to try so hard. It’s exhausting and I much prefer to let things percolate and have serendipity take its course. If I had a clear plan with goals and milestones and knew what I was going to be doing by September, I’ll be bored by March. Besides, as Harriet says...

In the meantime, come and laze with me at the Bloom Festival in Matakana Jan 20-22nd. I’ll be telling stories and running workshops along with a huge bunch of wonderful performers in art, writing and music. The perfect filler upper before work really starts for the year- enjoying the summer and the fact you don’t really have to do anything much with your brain right now except soak up some creative nourishment so you too can sprout this year. Bloom and grow, bloom and grow...