… to reflect the twenty something woman I feel and not the forty something I have become. Yes I know if I saw a young thing blinking back at me it would be untrue but I don’t feel any different now to when I was in my twenties. Is that really true I wonder? Back then I had no value of the planet or the environment now I am a tree hugger extreme. I thought are was for the geriatric now I paint, draw and write for hours each day. I longed to be a partner to share my life with another now I long for a place where I am alone and do what I want without constant interruption. I still listen to heavy rock but now I enjoy the opera and classics too. I have patience whereas back then everything had to be instant. I appreciate how my parents felt when I played my music too loud or watched TV till the early hours keeping them awake, my young children do that to me now. Maybe I don’t feel twenty something at all.
© Jem Farmer, all rights reserved.
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
600 seconds at lunch - I am waiting for my mirror...
Morning Pages - The Wonder of Nature
This picture really captures how I feel about nature and its glory. Already we are rapidly approaching the time of year when nature starts to wake up after her winter’s rest. Yes that means my camera will go into overdrive as I take pictures of flowers and if I am real lucky animals too. Afternoons spent in quiet contemplation in the town gardens are something I cherish both as an artist and as a busy mum. Odd for a city girl maybe as I enjoy nature and do take the time to stop and stare. Probably a bit crazy too, I don’t know. I don’t believe we need to retreat to lonely cottages in the middle of nowhere to retreat or find beauty. My greatest retreat is into my imagination and beauty is everywhere if you take a few minutes to look for it. A single flower in a window box is all it takes. Nature has designed flowers to perfection from the moment a tight little bud forms and waits for the touch of the sun to open up to full glory, making the most of its warmth and light.
