All posts by tribalmysticstories, lazylittlefrog.com

Author, Artist, Arts Curator, Climate Activist, Anti - Violence against Women, and Entrepreneur

Suki Sunset – Art


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Here is a poor re-production, but I wanted to show this painting I re-worked of a sunset in Suki River, Western Province, Papua New Guinea. The original and proper re-production are superior. I worked in Suki for a short time and have fond memories. The place is surrounded by water. You can look as far as you can and the water never stops. The river joins to others and small lakes that are a home to wildlife and fish. The scenes are quite breath-taking. In a typical evening, here right off the edge of the airstrip (which I did not show but it is at the back of this family), canoes would come across from the villages to pick up the passengers. Then, someone would hold the lamp or a torch as the rest paddled all the way home. Sometimes the trip took three to four hours.

If the villagers were lucky, a motored dinghy would be there to fetch them. And it was not always the fastest, some dinghies would run out of fuel on the way home, so the travellers still needed to paddle. After one of my community craft development workshops, there was no dinghy so eight women paddled me to the airstrip, it took us two and a half hours and they all stood in the single out-rigger and pushed with long sticks and paddles. They told me to sit. I was not brave enough to stand and paddle. We got there on time.

 

 

BLACK HISTORY SPOTLIGHT : MADAM C.J. WALKER


From my friend Leon’s blog. The life of an interesting woman.

Our-Truth Media's avatarOUR✊🏿TRUTH

Sarah Breedlove (December 23, 1867 – May 25, 1919), known as Madam C. J. Walker, was an African American entrepreneur, philanthropist, and a political and social activist.

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Eulogized as the first female self-made millionaire in America,] she became one of the wealthiest African American women in the country. Walker made her fortune by developing and marketing a line of beauty and hair products for black women through Madame C.J. Walker Manufacturing Company, the successful business she founded. Walker was also known for her philanthropy and activism. She made financial donations to numerous organizations and became a patron of the arts. Villa Lewaro, Walker’s lavish estate in Irvington-on-Hudson, New York, served as a social gathering place for the African American community. The Madame Walker Theatre Center opened in Indianapolis in 1927 to continue her legacy. Both of these properties are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

NOTES FROM WIKIPEDIA.

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Away From This Blog


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Mama Pikinini – watercolour on paper. JK.Leahy. 2016.

Dear friends,

I am away from this blog to spend time finishing some projects. I am also working on a new website for tribalmystic blog and adding a gallery to the blog. Hopefully, that will all be completed soon. If you have any queries, email me. Above in one of the series of market scenes from Papua New Guinea (PNG) I am working on. It is a quick shot with my mobile phone to give you an idea of the image. It is a typical scene in the PNG markets.

 

 

Cool Stuff – Street Art


The Cool Stuff is street art. I was looking at some street art photography and there were some really spectacular images. Check out art Fido for more.

This image below has to be my favourite so far. Take a look at it; it’s not too hard to figure out. I thought it was cool. I could not find the name of the artist, but it’s from 2013 street art list.

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Pen, Ink and Digital – Artwork


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Swan – Pen and Ink and digital colouring. JK.Leahy March 2016.

 

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Puffer Fish – Pen and Ink and digital colouring. JK.Leahy March 2016.

 

 

Turtles – Artwork


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I am making new artwork. I started off with pen drawing and then digital colouring to finish.  Hopefully I will make some lino cuts later and print, but that will take me a while to complete. Tell me if you like this style.

Soaking Hearts – Love Poem


Soaking Hearts with the Night – Love Poem

JK.Leahy©

We soaked our heart in the night.

Oblivious to time and weather,

we  shared the tea of love.

By the firelight, where winds engulfed our embrace,

mushrooms glowed, transcending our emotions.

And like heart-beat, the fireflies echoed the rhythm.

Long and steady, into the morning light;

letting the moon slip by, and the shadows dissolve.

When we let our words melt into nothingness, our bodies

rushed to the voice of our desires.

 

 

 

 

 

A Lei For Marcelle


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A corsage. JK.Leahy©

My gorgeous niece Marcelle Bucher turned 18 on the 4th of March. I have known Marcelle from birth and she is second daughter of my friends Erue and Daniel Bucher.  Marcelle’s mother Erue is Papua New Guinean and father Daniel is Swiss. You could say, Marcelle is a daughter I did not give birth to, but lucky enough to have. She is articulate, intuitive, very clever and creative. She is currently doing International Studies in University of Queensland. She speaks several languages and will conquer the world when she graduates. At 17, she left Australia to travel Europe alone and returned after Christmas. I think she just wanted to ‘sus’ Europe out, just to see if Europe is ready for Marcelle.

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It was almost the end of the party, but birthday girl still had her lei. JK.Leahy picture.

On her return, Marcelle wanted a Bahamas party for her 18th with lots of colour and tropical scenes. Everyone wanted leis, but the frangipani season had just ended. As she had wished, we set up her sister Livu’s place to look like a small holiday nook in the Bahamas. A quick drive around Brisbane city with a visit to my own  gardens gave us a small bucket-full of frangipani flowers, but just enough for me to make everyone a corsage. The party started to look ‘Pacificky’ – but it was  pretty all the same. The reggae music kept it slightly different.  And, the birthday lady received a lei.

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Views from the Bahamas party.
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Part of the celebration.
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To keep flowers fresh overnight, I kept them in cool water with a few ice cubes.

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I used folded banana leaves to extend the leis because I did not have enough flowers.

How do you make a lei? Watch this YouTube video on how to make a flower lei.

A Pink Bundle with Price Tag – (Continued)


Pink Bundle with Price Tag – Poem

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Artwork by JK.Leahy©

Poem – JK.Leahy©

(See verse one in the last post – This is a short story I tried writing in this format)

Pink Bundle with Price Tag

Arms to hold her first baby, folded on her crossed legs.

Suppressed in her expression, wrapped was her excitement.

I remembered Aunt on the phone telling,

“we are going to have a baby” while laughing at her husband.

A young school girl wanted to adopt her unborn baby.

Aunt said, “she would be beautiful like you, lady.”

The gossip; baby’s father was white and the mother was black.

The baby could own loose locks on a melted caramel tan.

My aunt had fought and climbed trees, just like a man

Not to happen, she would bear children like a woman

 

(To be continued in a book of short stories)

A Pink Bundle with Price Tag – Poem


A Pink Bundle with Price Tag is a poem I wrote about an incident that occurred some 20 odd years ago. I was trying to write my exercise in a prose form (for my Creative Writing Workshop), and after much confusion, I had gone down this path with the exercise, so I just went with the flow. With 700 odd words later, I told the whole story in a poem, by accident. I spoke with the workshop facilitator and confused her too, but she has forgiven me, she said. I think it’s because she wants to hear the rest of the story tomorrow. This is the opening of the story and hopefully, it will be part of my collection of poems and short stories book later. I hope you like it.

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Pink Bundle artwork – Paper artist, 2016. JK.Leahy©

 

A Pink Bundle with Price Tag – Poem

JK. Leahy Memoir

The house was low, a brown brick hole with blue shades.

Through the open windows, the inside was newborn stained.

A littered table of copious nappies and toys in rainbow frame.

On a ruffled bed, a small centre-piece, wrapped in a pink bundle.

Outside, my aunt sweats on a hardened dry brown lawn.

Desperate time calls for a monsoon, but none had come.

The sward had suffered Port Moresby’s arid time.

Aunt had waited to have babies, years these many,

that patience had become her virtue and time, her company.