Thought of something inspirational that would be chalked up. 😊
So I went there again. I took one quote from my inventory of rainy day quotes, and on this spectacularly Spring-like Winter’s Day, wrote the following:
“Natures shines brighter after the storm.”
I took particular pleasure in seeing people bend their heads down to read what I had written at the bottom of the driveway, and one girl even passed our house, got to our neighbours, then made the effort to come back and tell us she loved our work!
I know there is rain forecast tonight, so it will most likely wash away…
But I’m used to things like that. The intent is still there. 💖
You know, usually I am bracing for winter for days and days on end, waiting for that inevitable day when I change the page of the calendar and have the coldest season staring back at me.
I mean, it shouldn’t come as a surprise… our fair city of Melbourne gives us plenty of previews WAY before June rolls around… 😏
But, I’m trying to embrace all the seasons this year. I am trying to find all the reasons why I love them.
Yes, there I said it. LOVE.
Or maybe, a little bit of like. Baby steps.
Baby girl told me the other day that she’s looking forward to toasting marshmallows (we’ve never done that, guess we’re gonna have to start!) watching movies more and cuddling up on the couch.
And I keep forgetting that Winter still brings the sun too. Like today. Yeah I know, if we’re going off my ol’ Melbourne climate guide (I wrote that up when I started blogging, and it’s more accurate than the Melbourne weather forecast ever was and still is) this early June summer is totally normal, and designed to give us a false sense of security.
But although it is colder, the sun still comes out.
Listen to that metaphor.
Even though it’s colder, the sun still comes.
We are day 2 into Winter, and honestly we should be more afraid of corona and lockdowns, then we should the cold.
I am ALL for Winter this year. Give me my freedom, and I will paint the town red, 30 degrees, or 3.
I’ve now got my trifecta of footpath fiction, done, dusted, and PUBLISHED.
I headed on down to Rosebud today to find the other two pieces that have since been chalked on the footpath, as part of the Mornington Peninsula’s initiative for local writers to pen a 6-word micro-fiction containing the theme ‘community.’
(Note – I knew I had written two back when I submitted late last year, but in fact I had done three, and completely forgot about it!)
The first was:
“We hid. We waited. Now shine.”
The second which I discovered today:
“We walk these streets better together.”
And the third recent one? Check it out:
“Nature shines brighter after the storm.”
I actually love that one soooo much. Read the metaphor within.
There have been some major storms of late. I’m looking forward to skies clearing up, and everything looking better than new.
Everything looking sparkling, abundant, and BRIGHT.
(Check out @smikgwriter on insta for all the pics…)
(Fuck, something has to go right in my life about now…)
Excusez-moi my F bomb, but after a certain amount of time, zero Fs are given.
I walked up to my wonderful words today, to see my story come true before my very eyes.
Yes, that is me, I am breaking smikg protocol and displaying myself for all (or am I, really, am I? 😉)
I participated in a wonderful initiative last year by submitting some works towards a community project… the writers club I am part of teamed up with the local shire to get writers to create a mini fiction, no more than 6 words, on the theme of community, to be drawn and displayed along the streets of Rosebud.
Why, having my words out there for all to see? How could I miss the opportunity!
After finding out yesterday that yes, it DID happen yesterday, I headed on down with Hubbie today to pinch myself.
You know what’s funny about that photo? The sun was shining DIRECTLY on the SHINE part, but the photo didn’t show the light and dark well so I got Hubbie to like, hug me from the side so that we could block out the sun… can you see his outline? 😂
I got a little teary, I won’t lie. I’ve been longing to be published in some form for so long. And even this, on the footpath, just 6 words… it makes me so happy. It’s given me the much-needed boost I’ve needed, in the midst of life difficulty, frustration with everything, and very regular bouts of writer’s insecurity, like “am I good enough?” “my writing isn’t as good as theirs,” and “who’s going to want to read this?”
But to be published, just once,anywhere… it’s broken the spell. It’s crashed through the dam of insecurity, of doubt, and now the water is crashing down, happy and unbridled and free, and it wants to do it all.
I can just stare at that, like ALL DAY.
I will enjoy this moment, and hold on, as much as I can.
***Big thanks to @rondelle for her fabulous artwork, and @peninsulawriters along with @mornpenartsandculture for this great opportunity to try and inspire. ***
You get a whole lot of time to actually catch up on stuff.
And it may not be things that you feel are necessarily important or even life-serving…
It can be something as simple as working out how to use Insta stories.
This thing has been bugging me for months now. Insta. In particular, insta stories, and the potentially and definitely mammoth amount of filters and options and links and tags and what have you that you can add onto them.
They’ve left me confused for so long, but yet I haven’t really tried to learn it either.
The Insta youtube tutorial. Oh yeah, I am such a dag right now.
But now, I KNOW! I’m a dag that knows!
I posted my first insta stories tonight, and even created a new Highlights reel on my page, woo hoo!
If you wish to check out what all my fuss is about (and see my stories, i.e. it’s food!) look up @smikgwriter
I have a whole collection of stuff I suddenly inherited (i.e. it was ceremoniously dumped here after my parents suddenly sold their house – or you could say I just failed to take it with me since I moved out of there 11 years ago 😬) that I’ve been slowly going through and checking out, for the past week or so.
There is a throw pile. Old bags, lots of school paperwork, dozens of plastic coin change bags (remember those?)
There is a donate pile. Think a glass chess set that I bought my Dad for a birthday, I think, which he never used… why did that end up with me again?
There is a maybe pile. Like these glass/photograph coasters, or that dancing sunflower with the saxophone that used to work on battery, but is struggling now…
There is a ‘whoops this isn’t mine better check with sis/parents’ pile. VHS tapes, some kind of charger?
Then there is the KEEP pile.
OMG, the keep pile. Loads and loads and loads and loads of PAPER STUFF.
Old diaries. School work. Reports. Assignments. I have so much, and I still have one big bag of folders to go through.
What kinds of memories have I found?
All my work payslips pre-2007. ALL OF THEM.
All my high school reports.
The letter my Jeans West Work Experience manager wrote back to my teacher when I was in year 10… “she learnt to apply herself in the time given, but she was a bit shy.”
Ha ha, so me.
Uni assignments, oooh, I’ve loved these. I have a script for a 5 minute film called Doggy Day that I wrote and planned myself. I have an interview I did on my Dad on his life and immigration to Australia which I got good marks for. An article about the RSPCA that I should have sought further help on to get publication, judging by my uni teacher’s comment in the notes. Damn, should have chased that one up.
And so many textual analyses of books and film, oh my goodness.
High school diaries and notes with Hubbie’s name written over them. 😍💖
Psychology, Philosophy, and Ancient History handouts.
My old work pass.
I opened one of my old diaries at whim, to see what day I’d end up on. One entry had me in 1999, 16 years old, where I had met with one of my oldest friends at our local milkbar and we’d ended up walking to the house of our primary school friend who we didn’t see much anymore.
I wrote how we had sat in her bedroom, it had been a bit weird at first but then we’d relaxed and it had turned into the good ol’ days and all the memories we shared.
My 16 year-old self wrote how it was weird, a bit sad, that someone we used to be so close to about five years earlier, we didn’t see much of at all anymore, and our conversations had turned to pleasantries and reminiscing of the past, rather than the stuff you typically share with your closest friends – “Did you hear what happened to her?” “Did you hear about the party last Friday?” – type thing.
And I observed in this diary, and wondered, if the friends I had then in high school, whether we would be like that one day, exchanging pleasantries and talking about the past as the only thing we could hold onto.
In 6 years time, would we be a bit awkward like that too?
I smiled. SmikG NOW smiled.
I smiled as I read, wanting to jump into the pages of my old diary and grab 16 year-old SmikG, grabbing her by the shoulders to shake her excitedly and tell her –
“Guess what? You stay friends with them ALL! A couple of them drop off, sure, but you’ll come to realise they weren’t real friends anyway!
Your true friends are still friends… not 6 years later, but even 21 years later!”
And 16 year-old me, would undoubtedly have gone –
And asked immediately –
“Who aren’t I friends with anymore?”
And this SmikG would have shook her head with a cluck cluck cluck and said.
“Dear girl… I think you already know.”
I’ve had so much fun going back in time, and it’s made me realise how much I’ve changed, but also, how much I am still exactly the same.
Still passionate about the written word, still writing stories, still experimenting in different forms, and still wondering about the future and life in general…
I wonder what SmikG 10 years from now would say to me now…
I’ve spent the last few months, both covid and life induced, getting re-acquainted with old loves.
Old TV shows. Old friends.
Just recently, something dropped on Netflix.
Sure, I have the ENTIRE DVD BOX SET at home.
But with our DVD player playing up, I kinda have to depend on Netflix for going back in time…
Today, feeling sorely and under the weather, I happily lapped up Dawson’s and friends!
That is, Dawson, Joey, Pacey and Jen. But I bet you knew that, because I bet you’ve watched it too, right?
I don’t know if this is just a ‘me’ thing, a ‘SmikG’ thing, but I watch and read things, and am usually casually without much effort, heavily critiquing and analysing the plot/characters/conflicts/dramas etc.
(You too? 🙄🤣)
So while I was happily enjoying the walk down memory lane tonight with Season 1 ep 1…
I was noticing the strong teenage themes already present in Scene 1.
Scene 2 grabs you when, well a seeming ‘monster’ grabs Joey from her sunning position on the deck, and pulls her into the water.
And there within the first few scenes, we know that Joey is secretly crushing on Dawson, he’s crushing on Jen, Jen has some weird thing going on at her grandma’s along with her mysterious past, and Pacey has set his sights on some new older woman in town who turns out to be his teacher…
And throw in some coming-of-age themes, lots of sex talk (cue Dawson walking in on his parents doing it on the coffee table) and suspicions of extra-martial affairs, and you have a hell of a lot of drama and conflicting intentions happening there!
Welcome to my film school. This all happens so naturally in my head.
Not taking notes. Really I’m not…
Anyway, I love these guys. And I’m excited about getting back to my creek roots.
Many months ago after Hubbie finished watching the first run-through of the Chicago Bulls/Michael Jordan Netflix doco “The Last Dance,” he turned to me and said – “I’d like you to watch this with me.”
“I mean, I’ve watched stuff for you…”
Back when we were dating, I got him to watch the ENTIRE ANGEL SERIES with me. Of course I had already watched the series, and cried and laughed (mostly cried, with regular gasps) through it all, but alas, what do you do when you really LOVE something?
You want to share it with someone.
Even if that person is not into that genre AT ALL. Like Hubbie. 😉
He went through all 5 seasons with me. 110 episodes. At about 42 minutes an ep, that equals 4,620 hours of vampires, supernatural beings, long ranging story-archs, and a whole lot of funky shit and demonic deaths.
And what did it amount to? He didn’t mind it… but his one line, which I’ll never forget… “It was okay… it’s just not my thing.”
Fast forward to 2020, the world of iso and lockdown and having your butt planted on the couch. I knew he had a very strong case when he asked me to watch “The Last Dance” with him. And at only 10 episodes at roughly 50 minutes each, amounting to 500 minutes, well, I wasn’t going to lose much time.
Especially being in iso.
You know, if he had asked me to watch something basketball-related all those years ago when we were dating, I probably wouldn’t have been interested.
But now, I am a different person. I am ready. And also I realise, it’s not just about basketball. It’s about so much more.
I get inspired by passion. By the greats. By unbelievable stories. By incredible feats of triumph.
And tonight, after only 2 episodes in, I can see this doco has it all.
I was actually spewing at the end, because it was left at a bit of a cliff hanger. And I was like “ohh, damn it I want to know what happens!”
The difference between SmikG in 2020, and Hubbie in let’s say, 2006, is that SmikG is ready.
Do you get where I’m heading???
I am genuinely loving this series, and can’t wait to watch more. Jordan is a maniac of the game and true basketball legend, GOAT, all of it, and if you don’t know what that means, look it up, or better yet watch the Netflix doco!
I am seriously thinking of reintroducing Hubbie to Angel… do you think he’ll bite? (Pun totally intended). 😈