Baby Magpie born in late July/early August 2013

Last November I posted photos of a young Magpie, most probably born in early Spring 2012 and since then I've have been feeding twice per day the mother and daughter. I knew that one of the Magpies had a chick in early August this year because it had been collecting bread and flying off to a nest high in a nearby tree. Well, yesterday I had my first glimpse of it (there is only one chick), it was walking with both Magpies along the path, but when it saw me it became quite frightened and leapt onto the brick fence. I was really happy to see it because I thought I'd leave here never having seen it's cute little face. It's beautiful and I'm going to miss these three generations of Magpies, which are to me the most glorious creatures with their repertoire of incredible songs and unique sounds.

Lilac roses

Because I haven't posted any photographs of late, thought I'd show you this photo of beautiful lilac colored roses growing in the garden, partially affected by yesterday's sun, but gorgeous just the same. Photo taken by me about five minutes ago at 9.55 am. I intended to take some photos of the magpies playing, but by the time I got my camera they had already moved onto greener pastures, most probably over to the park opposite.

Walking the cobweb gauntlet

Dusk last night, this tiny Arachnid was just beginning to spin its web from one thorny, rose bush stem to another in the garden outside my kitchen window. It was almost impossible to photograph because of its fast movements - this was one of those times I wished I had an SLR. Although it cast its net in the hope that it would catch some insects, I'm afraid it appears to have been unsuccessful because the web is empty,  I guess we all have days like that in which we work hard, but nothing much comes of it.

Might there be some obscure bliss living like a spider, operating solely from instinct, repeating the same actions each day over and over again? Would we humans even desire that kind of bliss? Perhaps  it's not bliss at all, for even spiders have drama, they can be caught in their own webs (though this is rare) and although they very rarely fight other spiders, they will if called upon to do so.
Everyday when I go out, I walk what I call, the cobweb gauntlet, for strung across the bushy path from my backdoor to the front gate are copious spider webs that  you only become aware of when the sticky, silken threads hit your skin. Walking this cobweb gauntlet is a bit like some life events. You can't avoid  them because you can't see them coming and so you just have to wear the consequences.

The Body and the City

Rather loud and frightening whip-lash lightning crackle directly above my place last night before the torrential rain, but by then I was already way too tired to care.

Very busy yesterday, but now, thanks to Mark, the second DVD for my installation is ready and we have only to test it in the space next week. Several readings and editing sessions later and Francesco's essay is nearly finished. I've designed the invitation (which will be emailed out on Monday) and A3 signage, now have only to make and print the brochure to accompany my installation, The Body and The City: a poem in three parts, which will be open for public viewing from Friday 4 until 25 March at the Atrium Annex Gallery, Architecture Building at The University of Melbourne (Gallery hours: Monday to Friday, 9am to 5pm). Although I've been in group exhibitions this is the first time in a decade that I've shown any of my work on mass, so I'm a little excited and a little apprehensive.

It rained again this morning and as usual several sets of Magpies have visited. One announced itself with a glorious warble that made me go running to greet it. At least the rain has cool down the air, the birds are singing and I feel quiet and content. But that won't last because I have domestic duties today and an upcoming busy weekend.

Cool at last!

Melbournians will be delighted that the cool change blew through around 45 minutes ago and brought with it a 10 degree drop in temperature from 38 degrees to 28 degrees, and very strong winds that are now buffeting all the trees and bushes on this property and momentarily shut down my computer. I can't believe that I've done almost nothing for the whole day except answer a few email messages, play around with the look of this blog, reduce the amount of labels and watch television. An extra shower to keep cool and copious cups of tea made being inside bearable. The media is flooded with news that a massive cyclone is imminent for the coast of Queensland. Before they rebuild they may consider actually moving the state somewhere else, because its current location is not ideal (weather wise). I've put clean water out for the Magpies and imagine that they will be turning up soon for their portion of bread (yes, I know I shouldn't feed them, but we've been feeding Magpies in Australia for as long as I can remember). OK, I've opened the doors and windows and am breathing a sigh of relief - hope this cooler weather lasts.

Stay cool!

The magpies have been particularly noisy this morning as they search for insects and walk around the garden in the sun. They should have been here last night because cicadas were singing and a myriad of insects they could have eaten were dancing in the night air. For those of you reading this who live overseas, the green grocer cicada (in the image above that I gleaned from Wiki) is the most noticeable species in Australia and certainly the kind that we mostly see and hear in Melbourne. Though when they're on the ground they're usually bereft of their abdomen, which has been eaten by a hungry bird.

The weather bureau has predicted 40 degree temperature today, so my plan is to go out early and then return home before it gets too hot, although it's only 9.30 am and it's already 28.3 degrees (86F). An article in The Age newspaper has warned people to avoid vigorous exercise and drink lots of water and that's what I plan to do.

Andrew Bolt's comments on his blog this morning really annoyed me. He's still saying that Julia Gillard 'knifed' Kevin Rudd and the flood levy is going to 'punish the rich'. Oh dear! Mr Bolt ~ do you really think that taking a total of $50 away from those who are earning over $100,000 is going to cause undue hardship? I think not! And on this topic, I agree with him that the article by Susan Kraemer in Reuters last Friday, which makes a correlation between Australia's 15 years of droughts and climate change is just ridiculous. Almost everything that happens in the world now is being blamed on climate change - well, what is it - the HAARP facility or climate change ~are we ALL to blame or is it just the Americans? I think it's nature and (hopefully) I'll speak no more of this!

Rather pleased...

I'm rather pleased with myself at the moment. I've harvested another six beetroots from my garden, cooked them in a large pot of water and now they're lovely and soft. When they're cool I'll slice and put in a little vinegar and sugar. My Capsicum plants are growing beautifully and are sporting little flowers, which is a positive sign. Friends are beginning to send 'season's greetings' messages and I will do that soon, but for the moment I'm delighting in the warm, sunny day, sounds of birds singing and thoughts of good times to come.

14,000 page views!

It took only 17 days for my blog to register from 13,000 page views to 14,000. I'm not sure what generated so much interest, but I've certainly had quite a few people viewing my blog in the past two weeks. On that note, I'll take this opportunity to thank those who read on a regular basis and to those who dip into it from time to time. It's nice to know that you are all out there and I'm heartened when people are generous enough to post comments. I have little to report at the moment. This morning I've fed the Magpies and responded to a few email messages. Soon I'll be heading off to Melbourne Uni to have coffee with a friend I haven't seen for three months. The remainder of the day is not planned. I think I'll just proceed with an open heart for what the universe has in store.

Victoria Votes

ABC FM folk outside Cinema Nova 26/10/2010. Photo: Julie Clarke

I had an absolute ball with Karen and Mark at JW's this afternoon. Not even the sudden downpour could dampen our spirits. We simply moved from Lygon Street into Courtyard where we sheltered from the rain underneath huge umbrellas. In no time the sun was shinning again. A bit of déjà vu really because it also rained when we were there on my birthday in April. Only difference was this time Moira was absent. Later, Karen and I indulged in a cake and coffee at Brunetti's. Earlier in the day I was in Lygon Court just outside the Cinema Nova listening to the guys from ABC FM 774 radio, who were broadcasting a live discussion with audience members and each other about tomorrow's election. The only person I recognised was Russell Howcroft, Chairman and Managing Director of George Patterson's Y&R who is one of the regulars on the ABC television program The Gruen Transfer. Well, I think it was him! It's always interesting to see TV personalities in the flesh. On looking at this photo I realise it's advertising not only the ABC, Cinema Nova and Borders bookshop, but Ripcurl also got a look in. I wonder what media moguls would make of this? At the moment I'm at home waiting for the baby Magpies to turn up as they generally do at around 7.30pm. And contrary to public opinion, I'm sure that the bread with seeds & grains I feed them is really nutritious and eating a little bread doesn't stop them from also devouring worms and insects they find in the garden. Time to go I think they've arrived.

Something wicked this way comes

Last night was the first time in three months (that's how long I've been here) I had disturbed sleep. It might have been a reaction to visiting the place where me and my four siblings were removed from our parents and placed in State care. I slept last night in a half awake state too aware and yet I don't even know what I was aware of. As a consequence, today I've been slow, very slow. Clouds gathering in the sky suggest rain ~ but nothing's happened yet. God, how did we live in that tiny little place with a mother 'that never amounted to anything and a father who was bad from drink'. It sounds like something my grandmother would say. And now I'm living in a place surrounded by flowers that has the same numbers as my grandparent's botanical cemetery allotment ~ section 3, grave 45 (Vivian and Mary Anne lying together forever). I know we make meaning where there is none, but you have to admit it's uncanny. Perhaps it's lack of sleep that's encouraging strange associations, perhaps it's the balmy day and unsettling wind ~ I've never liked trees around me becoming too animated. Me thinks that 'something wicked this way comes'!

Balance

The three baby Magpies that had been visiting me for the past few months, disappeared last Saturday and returned last night around 7.30pm. I was missing their amusing antics. This morning only two came to visit. They're in the garden looking for insects and playfully fighting with each other over bits that they find. I think it's important to notice these little things happening around us. I know that many people are so over-whelmed by work commitments that they don't have time or won't make time to look at the clouds moving across the sky or small buds blooming in the garden. I'm so lucky to have the time to notice and appreciate the changes in passing seasons. I wish this for everyone because I think the world would be a happier place. I have little on my plate today ~ some domestic duties, a visit to my osteopath and perhaps some reading. The painting I began days ago, still unfinished, leans against the wall on my small mantle-piece. It's a reminder of things yet to do. I need goals, but I'm happy to put them aside to live life spontaneously. I suppose that balance is the key?

8.09 am

It's 8.09 and the Magpies have arrived and their cries for food are pulling on my heart strings. I will totally resist feeding them, even though their mother is struggling to find insects and worms in the grass. Last night the calls of at least five different birds could be heard in the evening silence ~ so beautiful, and although they were not calling to each other, they called to me. Birds, which featured in some early artwork of mine, may return as significant imagery, that is, if I can escape from the non-figurative paintings I've been doing. Enough now, no more blog for this morning, I have to head off soon to Melbourne Uni.

Magpies playing

I didn't know that birds played! I've just been watching the three baby Magpies I feed every morning and they were lying on their backs in the sun and cheekily pecking and scratching each other. One ran off with a small white feather in its beak; a kind of trophy of the engagement. Now they're mesmerised by something in a hole in a tree stump in the garden and are taking turns hopping on and off the top of it. Both their parents who come within inches of me when I'm throwing bread each morning, flew away about half an hour ago to leave their offspring to their own devices. My little Magpie visitors have finally found their voices and were warbling together so happily on this very Spring-like day.

Synapse #6

Synapse #6/you divided the world. Acrylic paint on canvas. 30 x 41 cm. Julie Clarke, 2010

OK, this is the sixth small painting I've done since I've been living in Hawthorn (if you are new to my blog you can locate photos of the other paintings under October). Number seven will also be small, but I may go a little larger for the one after that. I'd like to exhibit them in the flesh, so to speak with a view to selling them. However, my next project, still being negotiated involves exhibiting some of the photographs I took during 2009/2010 on multiple monitors accompanied by poetic texts. Another 'virtual' showing. I'll keep you all posted as to whether this happens, when and where. I've been reading J.G. Ballard's 1970 novel The Atrocity Exhibition and in this edition he accompanies the writing with annotated text, which I'm trying not to read, but in fact gives an insight into how the writing came about. So, in the spirit of James Graham I'm going to give a short explanation of this painting. I was looking at one of the only paintings I still have from 1992 and there is an area, similar to the elliptical shape in the painting above, so I reproduced that and then placed a dividing line to denote the way that we create otherness and yet that other is surely still part of what we are. I then wrote the text, which can be completed in the viewers mind, with any number of possible permutations. I like the way that text becomes an object in itself. I punctuated this mornings blog to feed the baby Magpies who now happily eat the bread that I throw onto the grass ~I feel that there is a bit of a routine happening here. But isn't that the measure of our day ~ the things that connect us to the world, that make us feel like we are part of something greater, a machinery of the universe that keeps moving along with or without our intervention? I clench my fist to allow my fingers to move in a different way than they do when I am typing. The thumb on my right hand bends slightly to the left ~ the arthritis that has already invaded my skeletal system is advancing, though the bodies of others are worse ~ I am grateful, and it is good to be grateful, to appreciate what parts of the body still functions, knowing that at some time they too will break down. For the moment though, all is well. It's a crisp, cool morning. Quiet and still. Soon I'll be heading off to Uni to tutor.

Sunrise Melbourne

I just couldn't resist photographing this mornings sunrise. It never lasts more than a few minutes and paints the sky in such beautiful colors. Already at 6.19 am (three minutes after I took this photo) the muted pinks and reds have disappeared. White clouds that float across a sky of powder blue have taken their place. So ephemeral. Time passes so quickly. I've already been at my new abode for two months. She dreams of a place with flowers ~ a faded poster on someones wall. She dreams of paper cut-out dolls and dresses them in 1950s clothes. She imagines that this image of sunrise is actually a postcard she has seen of palm trees growing in the park across from St.Kilda beach. The pier is empty. The waves lapping on either side. The sea, dark, deep, frightening all around her. One lone ship on the horizon and the faint sound of seagulls crying. She dreams of the oil refinery. The siren sounds ~ perhaps an explosion. It was always a worry being built so close to the school. The possible evacuation, the panic of small children. The man in the park that carried her. She dreams of the cosmonaut. His smiling face, which was not at all like the face of her father that she really didn't remember. Eyes closed, she imagines the fear and trembling of those on the Medusa ~ the shipwreck, the sound of the water as the waves engulfed them. Covers her ears in the dark room, watches time slow and then speed up again. Sunrise already passed and all is well.

I discovered this morning that these three baby Magpies are quite capable of eating the bread I throw to them, but they keep insisting that their mother (one in photo looking at crust) do it for them! Surely this can't last much longer!

I simply adore Deadwood (TV series, written by David Milch). It's raw, down to earth and rife with expletives. I didn't see it the first time round and have been watching Season 1 on ABC. Strangely enough I didn't fall asleep quickly after watching last night's episode, which included a mercy killing and consequently I woke late this morning. I'll be brief because my half-sister (still think it's weird calling someone a 'half' ~ I suppose it's because her genetic mix is different to mine) is coming to my place for lunch. The sun is streaming through the windows and the Magpies, which rise and eat early have long gone from the lawn.

Magpie

This is one of the baby Magpie's in the backyard. Believe it or not, it's nearly the same size as its parents. Its only a few weeks old, has mastered flight, but still cannot feed itself. I've soaked some bread in warm water and thrown small pieces to its parent, who dutifully feeds its young. It's cold outside, no wonder little maggie is screeching for food. A lot of people don't like Magpies, but I do. Apparently they can live to 30 years, can mimic the sounds of about 35 other bird species and can even make dog and human sounds if they live in close proximity.

Soft mist shrouds the morning sky,
above the disintegrating Camellia flowers.
One lone Magpie baby calls for food.
The colors of the garden ~ hyper-green after the evening rain.
A quiescence I can't identity.
A memory that lingers after an intimate message.
This October, so different from the last.

Miniscule

My doctor said I have bronchitis and must rest. I've certainly been doing that, having slept 24 hours over the past two days!

It looks like a beautiful sunny day ~ I might sit outside and dream as I watch the bees tend to the flowers. Which reminds me, does anyone else like those five minute episodes of Miniscule ~ the French animations that feature insects. They are generally shown on ABC and are funny as well as thought provoking. I just love the series and it's made me perceive the bees, dragon-flies, wasps, flies and spiders that I see in this garden in an entirely new kind of way. A lot of the videos are on YouTube.
Here's one ~ enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EknFC2ZjkvY