The Storytellers - Restless #5

"I had that restless feeling" by Rhonda Yanitsas I've felt restless for a good two years now. It's a feeling that's hard to explain but it's been there for that long - tugging at me and always in my mind.

So much has happened in my life over the past two years. I've married my lovely husband, had our beautiful baby boy, changed jobs just a few times and supported my mum through her terminal illness. These events have all changed my life forever.

Another major contributing factor to my feeling of restlessness is my home. When my husband and I got married we were living in a unit owned by his family, with my brother in law living above us and my in-laws around the corner. We knew we wanted to eventually move to start our new life together, but it wasn't that simple. After what seemed an eternity we did move into another unit but that was only another temporary situation.

In my child's first 18 months he has lived in three homes and I haven't moved that much ever. We had our belongings scattered across Sydney and beyond. Some of our things were at our new temporary place, some were in our parents' garages and even more of our belongings were in storage. I didn't have everything with me and it felt strange. Everything was so temporary.

Another move later and we are finally in our own house which we have purchased. It's definitely a family home, in a family focused community, and we're taking a while to get used to it - and to unpack the final boxes!

It's interesting how feelings about where you live have such an influence on your emotional state. Some people understand this but I have had others giggle at my restless revelations.

The constant flighty feelings I did have are slowly disappearing as we go about nesting and settling into our new home (and community). We're making it ours... but oh so gradually! I hope we spend a long time here.

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{This oh-so-relatable piece by Rhonda Yanitsas on the theme "restless" is part of a new guest post series on my blog - back after a break last week - called The Storytellers. To see more from The Storytellers, follow this tag. Rhonda blogs at botanylife.com.au about her family's new life in Botany, Sydney.}

Images from here, here and here, all licensed under Creative Commons.

Time to take a tumble

Do you remember taking roly poly tumbles down hills? Topography in my childhood was constantly assessed on the basis of its suitability for climbing to the top and rolling back down. There's a wonderful sense of abandon to a good hill-roll, completely surrendering yourself to the forces of gravity while tumbling in a disorienting swirl of sky and grass and sky and grass until you land at the bottom, puffed and dizzy and proud. Then you brush the grass and twigs off your clothes, and run to the top of the hill to try again.

When did I stop rolling down hills? When do adults stop playing in general? And why do we choose to stop doing something that is so harmless and so much fun?

I don't want to just watch Madeleine play. I don't want her to have to beg me to join in. I am going to make a conscious effort to rediscover playful, childlike me.

This Schweppervessence ad premiered on Australian television on Sunday night, during Downton Abbey. It's like childhood, but better: grown men and women tumbling through an alpine landscape, over snow, fields, forests and finally a waterfall.

In one sense, I fear that sharing an ad with you guys is buying into commercialism but, honestly, I'm just thankful to the folks at Schweppes for making me happy. So I have to give them props. What a joyful, creative minute they gave me!

ps. Once upon a time I made up a story that if you rolled down the hill in our front yard with your eyes closed, when you got to the bottom you would be in a different world. I played this game with my friend Elise when I was about seven or eight. When we got to the bottom of the hill, all dizzy and disoriented, I said, "Look! We are in an ancient world! Can you see the pyramid?" (I was pointing at the swing set). That game was short-lived, since the next time I knocked on Elise's door and asked her mother if she could come out and play, her mother said, "Elise isn't allowed to play with liars." So much for imagination, huh?

Lovely... and a little bit heartbreaking

This is a beautiful little song called 'Existential Crisis,' written and performed for you by the one, the only, the lovely Emily Rose. It breaks my heart a little bit. It's all angsty and teenagery and reminds me of how I wouldn't be a teenager again for quids. I remember these emotions and the sense of powerlessness OH SO WELL. As though I was 14 yesterday.

What do you guys think? And tell me: how did your teen years treat you?

Favourite things - people!

People are great, aren't they? I love people. Here are five people-oriented favourites to take you into Saturday. Enjoy! 1. About missing persons

Take a look at this fantastic photo series called "i'm not there" by pol ubeda. Eerie and rather lovely, don't you think? (Via The Daily Muse)

2. About memories

How amazing would this look on a wall in your home, positively twinkling with good memories and loved ones from floor to ceiling? You can make it yourself by following this DIY on A Beautiful Mess. (Via Poppytalk)

3. About posties

As in, I think the postie would love the look of this wonderful stamped copper postcard from Catbird NYC as much as your recipient would. (Unless of course you sent a whole bunch of them, which would weigh the postie down and actually make you somewhat unpopular with him or her, I imagine).

4. About paper dolls

The rather lovely Shannon from Happiness Is and her other half had vintage paper dolls of themselves made for their wedding save-the-date cards. Don't they look gorgeous? This sends my mind a bit boggly with the multitudinous possibilities...

5. About grandmothers

And finally... I thought this was just a beautiful and thoughtful story about families and generations and understanding and love and chaos, all rolled into one. It made me happy. I hope it makes you happy too. Have a great weekend!

Melbourne dispatch - Spiegeltent 'The Trip'

This week I stepped through the almost century-old doorway of The Famous Spiegeltent to see a show called The Trip. And what a trip it was. To call this show "dreamlike" in one sense conjures up just the right atmosphere of magic and unreality, a kind of Wonderland-esque nothing-is-what-it-seems counter-reality that throws you pleasurably off-balance.

But The Trip was a lot more earthy than any dream I can remember. One moment you're gasping at fluid and seemingly effortless contortionist feats and aerial acrobatic wonders. The next, a sweet little drag queen called Baby Jane has stripped down to a faux-naked bodysuit and is sending bubble farts out through a hole in her suit-bottom.

Imagine vaudeville, imagine cabaret, imagine tongue-in-cheek boylesque, and imagine circus feats of strength, contortions, juggling and trapeze.

Now imagine all of that in a tent that is so small you can see every muscle-tremble, every gleam of sweat, every cheeky wink in a performer's eye. When world-acclaimed theatrical gymnasts The Caesar Twins perform a stunning routine from inside a fishbowl, you are close enough to get splashed at the end.

Imagine you are seated in a carved wooden booth that is smooth from almost 100 years of patrons just like you. You relax beneath delicate, stained-glass windows in art deco patterns that gleam in the circus-lights like oversized jewels, and sip champagne. This is the same venue in which Marlene Dietrich entertained fans in the 1930s.

I was given very special permission to photograph the show, something that is normally forbidden, so what you're seeing here is normally kept only for those inside the tent.

I wasn't allowed to use a flash, and arrived at the last minute (thanks, Madeleine) so I didn't have a great vantage point for the camera. Still, looking over these photos now I kind of love them. I love the blur of movement in the acrobats, the strange quality given to them by the circus lights, the glimpses of canvas and stained glass and other members of the audience, all of which help recreate the dreamlike world of The Trip. Yes, I'm back to "dreamlike" again. I guess it really is the best way to describe this show.

Honestly though, I highly recommend you go see it for yourself.

The Trip runs until 3 March and the full Spiegeltent program in Melbourne runs until 21 April. Download the program here (isn't it pretty?) or keep track via Spiegeltent's Melbourne season on Facebook.

ps. I was not paid to write this post, however, I did receive two tickets to the show courtesy of the generous folks at Arts Centre Melbourne. Thank you!

ps2. We will resume our regular programming of The Storytellers next week

Let the good times roll

Yesterday was Shrove Tuesday and, aside from being a day on which to eat pancakes (although when ISN'T a day to eat pancakes?), it was also Mardi Gras (which is French for "Fat Tuesday") in New Orleans. So, for no particular reason, Melbourne celebrated, too. I let Madeleine stay out half an hour past her bedtime (she was all, "No paparazzi! Not after bedtime!") so that we could stroll up to the shady verge beside the historic Melbourne General Cemetery in the early evening to partake in a very relaxed, chilled-out Fat Tuesday celebration, hosted by Gumbo Kitchen.

Here were no gaudy parade floats or breast-flashing spring-breakers. Here, instead, were families enjoying picnics on the grass. Children brandishing ropes of coloured beads. Gumbo, po' boys and fresh lemonade.

And a second line marching band that led everyone, Pied Piper-like, in a joyful, dancing, laughing, all-welcome parade past the cemetery and down toward Lygon Street.

Later, bands played on a little stage on the grass while the grills sizzled and everyone relaxed back onto their picnic rugs and the sun set behind the sleepy cemetery, turning dusk into a happy, full-bellied night.

And now I am craving beignets.

Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Meals on Wheels - Beatbox Kitchen

The day was grey. The car park alongside and empty strip of Lygon Street was desolate. On the side of the road, a man sat with his arm around his teenaged son beside a parked truck, and that truck was the one bright place for miles around. The truck was the Beatbox Kitchen, one of Melbourne's many food trucks, and it assaulted the senses with happiness on that lonely strip. Splashes of red and yellow, painted onto the side of the truck, lit up the sidewalk, while a cheerful row of orange lights warmed an awning over the truck's side window. An 80s beat-box renovated into an iPod dock sent Otis Redding's rhythm and blues out into the street, and the burgers sizzling on the grill made tummies grumble from blocks away.

I was buying for three, so I ordered a couple of Raph Burgers for Mr B and Em, and a Shroom Burger for me, as well as some crispy shoe-string fries to share. We took them home and had a picnic on our lounge-room floor, with Madeleine rolling around on the rug and trying to put her feet in the spicy tomato dipping-sauce.

Both kinds of burgers were delicious, and my marinated and grilled portobello mushroom replacement for a meat patty was as juicy as they come. All we needed was some Otis Redding on my iPod to make it perfect.

ps. Curious about more of Melbourne's food trucks? I'm slowly eating my way through them, one by one. Here's what I've tried so far.

Outtakes

These are some outtakes of photos of me writing letters and sending books to you guys, and painting pictures on the parcels. They were taken to support a piece I was invited to write for Winsome Journal, about how so many of us love snail mail. I love to sit outside and write these letters, when the weather is not too hot. The downside of taking photographs out here is that you are in danger of being photobombed by dogs, cats AND babies who insist on being held (and then insist on stealing your pen).

While I was battling with all these elements, as well as my innate awkwardness in front of the camera, the sun came up and glared in my face and let's just say it wasn't flattering and I should probably get some cream for those frown-lines. C'est la vie.

Find time to play

Is anyone going to the Fresh Air Festival in Melbourne this weekend? I'd love to get down there but I'm not sure we'll be able to make it in the allotted times. Have you heard of this festival? It's all about the simple joy of play time. "Everybody knows how to play," the organisers say, "we just don't get to do it any more." Held in conjunction with Pop Up Playground, the festival is three days of hilarious, imaginative, open-air, in-the-streets play time for big kids.

I especially like the sound of this game by Coney, which has all the elements of beauty and subterfuge that I loved about the movie Amelie:

The Tail Wags You’ll follow a stranger through the city and look for opportunities to steer and sweeten their evening whilst staying inconspicuous.

OK I realise it sounds a little stalkerish, but I still like the idea of secretly making someone's evening magical. Are you with me?

Whatever you do this weekend, I hope it is a joyful one for you. And I hope you find at least a little time to play.

{Photos via Pop Up Playground on Facebook)

Favourite things - get in my house!

Are you a renter? Do you dream of the day on which you will own your own home? Of painting the walls any colour you like; and hanging as many paintings you like anywhere you like; and planting a garden and ripping up old carpets and saving up to renovate the bathroom? Me too. What a coincidence! In the absence of a place to call my own, I am turning to my trusty friend Imagination to fulfill my nesting needs. In fact, I am constructing a major redecoration in my head right now. Here are some of my favourite plans.

1. The chalkboard window

Just imagine: the view could change every week! And how lovely does that hanging light look, casting an orange glow? (Via Poppytalk)

2. The ticket-stub cushions

I love this idea for a modern splash of colour on the couch, made from ephemera that has special meaning for you. Like that Eurail ticket, your stub from the Mumford & Sons concert, a business card from your favourite New York speakeasy... (From Ashley Allen via B for Bel)

3. The rustic potholder

This looks fantastic, don't you think? Just so long as the hooks were low enough that I could reach them. (I have to use a stepladder to reach the cupboards in our kitchen. No kidding. It was both humiliating and dangerous while I was pregnant.) (Also via Poppytalk. Double-whammy of favourites this week)

4. Marquee lights

These are home-made, out of those heavy cardboard letters you can buy on the cheap in craft stores. I love the lights though I'm not sure Mr B and are handy enough to make them. But I still think some brightly painted, spotted and striped letters would look wonderful in Madeleine's room, spelling out her name. (Via Oh Hello Friend)

5. Entry-hall hooks

A whole lot of pretty colour to stop Mr B ONCE AND FOR ALL from using the kitchen table, kitchen chairs and lounge chairs as places to toss his suit jackets, ties, towels and pants(!) as he comes in each day. (Via The Daily Muse)