To celebrate us, the women of the world today (March 8th), I share words of a great poet, Maya Angelou. I would like to pay tribute to the phenomenal women (pictured below) that raised me, and whose blood flow in my vein.
From left to right, Mama De-ec, Tinang and Mama (Freda). My aunt, grandma and mum. Guess who is in the bilum…
Phenomenal Woman
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.
Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me. Maya Angelou
3D facial reconstruction of a young male dated -2500 years from “iberic” period (Spain). The skull was pierced with an iron nail as part of a ceremonial practice. The views were done working on a 2mm cut CTscan, Zbrush, Cinema4D and VrayforC4D. Due to the amount of hair strands each frame had a 45mn render time on a Mac Pro 12 cores with 24GB Ram in HD 1080p format. (This Vimeo video is only in 720p).
Reconstruction done for the MAC Ullastret/Catalonia/Spain (Archeological Museum of Catalonia).
To mark this year’s International Women’s Day, (March 8th), Indigenous TV (NITV) has put together a list of 20 trailblazing Indigenous women who have changed Australia. I was delighted to find this article and pictures on the SBS News site.
Truganini, last of Tasmania’s tribal inhabitants, 1812 – 1876 on (right) and Bessy Clark.
Truganini was a defiant, strong and enduring individual even to her last breath. She is a symbol of the survival of the Tasmanian Aboriginals and her life epitomises the story of European invasion.
As a young girl, she was taught her culture but when Aboriginal life was disrupted by European invasion this changed her forever. Despite witnessing the most horrific crimes against humanity, Truganini believed the only way to fight against white invaders was to learn their ways in order to gain empathy.
To read about the 19 other amazing women, please click below: SBS News
On an isolated stretch of Western Australian beach, artist Tim Pearn creates works from washed-up plastic waste collected over the course of a year on Albany’s Goode beach. The resulting artworks, both beautiful and disturbing, are on show during the Great Southern festival, part of the 2015 Perth festival.
The Great Southern conjures images of pristine coastline and unspoilt beaches. The Western Australian artist is challenging this picture by sculpting with artificial materials found on an Albany beach.40 beach walks. 40 bags of plastic rubbish. That’s all it took for Pearn to collect enough material for his exhibition, On the Beach.
Tim Pearn art
Featuring sculpture, photography and video work, the display uses plastics collected from Goode Beach to create eerily beautiful images of artificial materials in the natural environment.
“I lived on Goode Beach for over a year and started to notice little, tiny specs of plastic and started collecting it. I was amazed how every time I walked down the beach I could pick up a small bag,” says Mr Pearn.
Speaking to the ABC Great Southern Morning show, the artist was struck by the sheer volume of waste he encountered on his regular walks.
“I started picking up stuff to throw away and it just kept coming and kept coming. I started to think ‘What could I do with this?’ and I was amazed that it never stopped really”.
Mr Pearn hopes that his exhibition will draw attention the problem of plastic pollutants.
“It really is a provocative exhibition. I think we’re being very irresponsible in how we use plastic. It’s very useful material if it’s used properly, but we’re really having an awful impact on the environment,” he said.
“The impact of plastic waste is affecting us severely in the Great Southern like everywhere else.” No place left untouched
Dr Jennifer Lavers knows more about ocean plastics than the average beach goer. A marine biologist at the Institute for Marine and Antarctic Studies, Hobart, she has spent considerable time researching the impact of plastic pollutants on marine birds in the Great Southern.
Dr Lavers says the problem cannot be understated.
“It’s absolutely everywhere. Nowhere is immune. From the top of the world to the bottom, from the Antarctic to the Arctic, plastic is absolutely everywhere.”
Dr Lavers studies the health of marine birds, including local mutton birds, to paint a picture of the health of the ocean.
“Seabirds are really reliable indicators to gather the data that we need of what’s happening,” she said.
Ocean plastics feature heavily in her research.
“It’s the main component of what I work on,” said Dr Lavers, who considers the pollutants one of the biggest threats to the environment.
Her research has demonstrated the biological impact of plastic pollutants ingested by ocean birds.
“Once ingested, more toxins such as mercury and arsenic can be found in the bird tissues.”
“The ability of plastic to act as a vector for pollutants is accepted.”
Ocean plastics in humans?
If plastic pollutants are being ingested by marine life, could this be impacting humans higher up on the food chain?
“That’s the million dollar question. That has not yet been proven, but there are various lines of evidence that are moving in that direction,” said Dr Lavers.
“Whilst no one has made a direct link, other independent lines of evidence are quite strong and suggest that we should be worried,” she said.
On the Beach is showing the Western Australian Museum, Albany until March 7, as a part of the Great Southern Festival 2015.
The story of how Dr Seuss wrote a little-known adult book about seven medieval sisters who never wore clothes. The book was a flop.
Not the usual: Dr Seuss penned this saucy book in 1939 – but it never gained much popularity despite featuring pages of cartoon nudity
I love Dr Seuss’s Children’s books and found this story very funny. In fact my 19-year-old who grew up on Dr Seuss children’s stories and learnt a lot of his first words from the rhymes was quick to point out, he knew about the Seven Lady Godivas when I shared my discovery today.
As a writer, I think that sometimes you have to try writing in more than one genre before you know where your strength lies. It was how Dr Seuss did it – trying his writing and drawing talents at adult cartoons before he discovered his true calling was in children’s books. I often see writers going from general genres to adult/erotic books but not the opposite as Dr Seuss who celebrated his birthday yesterday did. He wrote the failed exhibitionist tome in 1939.
In this Daily Mirror article Seuss, also known as Theodor Geisel only sold 2500 copies of The Seven Lady Godiva. He wrote that he was in fact telling ‘a beautiful story of love, honor and scientific achievement’. His best-known characters are famous for their clothes. But the Cat in the Hat and the Fox in Socks have little in common with the stars of another The Seven Lady Godiva.
The gang of naked sisters who star in The Seven Lady Godivas: The True Facts Concerning History’s Barest Family, are famous for wearing no clothes at all.
Publishing the book was allegedly a condition for Random House, Seuss’s new publisher, when he jumped ship to them. However, it seems few agreed with his own high opinion of the bawdy tale. While 10,000 copies were printed, only 2,500 were ever bought.
He later accepted that the book was no good. According to The Atlantic, he said: ‘I attempted to draw the sexiest babes I could, but they came out looking absurd.
The famed author’s birthday, March 3rd is now celebrated as a national reading festival. The Dr Seuss’s children’s books were the favourites of both my two boys when they were growing up.
One of Seuss’s better known characters, the Cat in the Hat
IMAGE: AMITAV GHOSH, A GUEST AT THE UBUD WRITERS & READERS FESTIVAL
This is an interesting interview by with author Amitav Ghosh by ABC’s Michael Cathcart. In the discussions, Ghosh talks about his life and his work, but he also points out a very important aspect of story-telling; how a language or culture can dominate a story.
Amitav Ghosh was born in Calcutta, an Oxford graduate.; his life and work span countries and cultures.
In this program ABC (Australia) talked to Ghosh about what he has sensed in the ways in which people and cultures mix and adapt, especially with storytelling and his passion for telling the untold story. Often, in Amitav’s view, the colonial narratives are so often deaf to hearing particular voices.
ABC spoke to Ghosh about his novels The Hungry Tide (2004), and Sea of Poppies (2008) which are the first two absorbing instalments of the Ibis trilogy set in the port town and on the high seas between India and China.
Over two weeks ago, I was very honoured to be nominated by Kathleen from KBailey373 blog for A Very Inspiring Blogger Award. I am very grateful to accept this award from Kathleen who has only been following my blog for a month. At the end of last year I was also nominated by Steve from Life in Russia for this award, but unfortunately, I had too much on and was ill, and did not attend to the requirements of the award. To Kathleen and Steve – a sincere thanks for finding something to inspire you from my blog. It means a lot to me. I have linked both blogs so you can visit and enjoy stories in KBailey373 and Life in Russia.
Blogging is fun, but not often easy. It is hard to know what appeals to readers. After a year of blogging, I am slowly getting the idea of what not to post. Unfortunately some of the “not to post” are what I believe in, for example, the climate exchange issues. Thank you for continuing to read and supporting this blog despite your preferences. Thank you for pointing out my errors, I like that.
On WordPress, I have come to treasure the work of many fellow bloggers. I told a friend yesterday that I have some great my readers and bloggers who have now become friends. This friendship inspires me to write or posts something good in each posts. I may not have pleased every reader in every post, but I try my best. I have learnt more from others in the blogging community. WordPress has a large community of amazing people with interesting stories. I am a student of life and each time I come to blog world, I get very excited. I know I will learn something new. Thank you very much friends for inspiring me too in your content, comments and readership.
To meet the requirement of the award, I must;
Display the award on your blog.
Link back to the person who nominated you.
State 7 things about yourself.
Nominate 15 bloggers, link to them, and notify them about their nominations.
Seven things about me
I almost drowned at the age of 10 during a fishing trip. It was in a flooded Busu, one of the fastest flowing river, several kilometres from our village (in Lae, PNG). My uncle flung the fishing net into the river, caught me and pulled me up. (I am a good swimmer by the way).
I have lived in Brisbane, Australia for 10 years. Where we live used to be a pineapple plantation and there is an 18th century cemetery behind us, separated by my neighbour’s house.
When I was in Year 10, in high school, I was nominated to represent our school and compete in a national high school speech competition. It was sponsored by the Lions Club, (a charity and youth advocate). I gave a speech about the History of Lae Town, my town and how my people first came to settle on that land. I won some cash and $500 worth of books for my high school, the Busu Provincial High School. (It doesn’t sound like much now, but it was a lot then – 1980).
I had straight blonde hair when I was a child. The more my grandmother cut my hair (so it would be an afro like hers) my hair curled. Now I have large dark curls.
My crazy hair.
Fish is my favourite food.
I love birds and can watch them for hours.
I was told by two doctors I was having a baby girl before I had my second son, now 16. We named ‘her’ Nisha until at birth. He had no name for two days. He became Christopher Eric Harris on the third day.
……………………..
Here are come of the blogs that inspire me for various reasons, mostly personally. They are not in any particular order of preference. I enjoy reading these blogs because of their rich and in-depth content and the each writer’s dedication and enthusiasm in sharing, exchange and helping others. Sorry if I did not list you here, I can only list 15.
An artist transforms written words on paper into work of art you can touch.
Jennifer’s practice focuses on creating work from paper; by bonding, waxing, trapping and stitching she produces unusual paper ‘fabrics’, which are used to explore the ‘remaking’ of household objects. The papers are treated as if cloth, with the main technique employed being stitch; a contemporary twist on traditional textiles. The papers themselves serve as both the inspiration and the media for my work, with the narrative of the books and papers suggesting the forms. Jennifer tends to find items then investigate a way in which they can be reused and transformed; giving new life to things that would otherwise go unloved or be thrown away.
I remained standing at the T-junction and my attention shifted to where the two waterways met. I wondered where the birds were today. By now, the sun rays would have come through the leaves and woken the birds, causing an eruption of an electrifying orchestra. There was not a single bird-song. That part of the equatorial rainforest norm was missing.
My arms hung loose and lifeless, I could not feel them. I tried to, but I could not lift my arms nor move my legs. I was not terrified; I only felt stuck and this alarmed me a little because the mud was not deep. When I drew breath, it was slow, restrictive, and my chest was constricted. Something large of several layers like a heavy coil of thick, soft, rubber hung around my neck and shoulders. It weighed me down. I was tall for a teenager, but my thin, weak and small shoulders were crushed by this weight. I thought it was a heavy towel as we often hung towel around our necks to keep warm while fishing. I shut my eyes.
And then it moved, so suddenly. I realised this was not a towel. It was a large snake, a python! A different set of knots, the horrid kind, started tightening inside me. On me, I saw the coils move and could feel it tightened.
My eyes re-focused. The snake’s colour reflected that of the greyish mud, faint yellow like a banana skin, and the brown mangrove tree bark. I could see the diamond-shaped outline of each scale. It was detailed vividly in intricate patterns on its centre spine above my breasts and just beneath my chin. The scale patterns, beautiful and seamless, disappeared under the next coil. I became more aware, alarmed and numbed by the weight, closeness and firmness of its grip. I shifted my eyes ahead beyond the mangrove. It did not make sense to scream and it seemed too hard to remember how to scream. I refused to imagine where the snake’s head would be, I did not want to meet it nor look into its eyes. Now I remember how that poor pig must have felt when the python took it behind our house. Was this the same snake?
Timor Python: Public Domain image
I waited for a few more minutes and I sensed the snake was not trying to kill me. That was strange. It seemed comfortable the way it restricted and detained me, and I was afraid to move and disturb it. The dank smell re-appeared and honed the swamp stink. I could not feel the mosquitos. I wondered if that stink was the snake. Its weight became too much and I wondered how long I would be standing there in the mud, carrying the snake.
Then, a single call of a Sock-ngkwing bird, the spirit bird, pierced the silence and my eardrums. I moved to the bird’s cry. The python tightened its grip, and squeezing .. and I screamed just like the bird, feeling my body become alive. I moved my arms and legs. I flipped over and woke up with my bed sheet tight around my neck. It was THAT dream. Before I went to high school, in my early teens, I had this dream so many times. It was always the same dream. I shuddered. Still tense and terrified, I went to see grandma.
I re-told the dream to my grandmother; she looked at me for a long time. Her eyes searched, speaking to my face, without words.
“There is a decision you have to make, a path you have to choose. What is stopping you from choosing, is your fear”, she said.
I looked at Tinang, afraid.
“Don’t be afraid” she said and hugged me. I shut my eyes and fell against her soft, tattered, spun rayon dress. Grandma’s scent of Chinese White Flower lotion, mixed with mustard and chewed betel-nut soon erased the swamp stink. I had thought about this dream interpretation often when I was growing up, and it always frightened me because I knew what it was, but it was not a single thing; it was many…
I found this short documentary made by Planet Doc and presented in Spanish. I tried to watch it and work out what the narrator is saying (without the sub-titles). Don’t worry, for you, there are English sub-titles. There is a sequel to this film which I can post later. I believe a cultural heritage of a person can influence what they value is important and how they present that value in a story. There were certain practices of intangible cultures from Papua New Guinea island tribes presented in this film. It stretched from the Trobriand Islands to the islands of New Britain. I don’t understand what the language (Spanish) the narrator is speaking, but watching the pictures, and knowing the culture, I can see what he is trying to show. Perhaps some Spanish speakers here can figure it out what the narrator is trying to say about the shell money he is showing , from both island traditions.
This is the magic of story-telling. Simply, what you can show your readers. As good writers, we need every possible word that can draw a picture well in our reader’s mind.
Tribalmystic Stories 