I can hear you. In the waves of my space I hear your heartbeat. Eyes pulse through a kaleidoscope of reverberating paisley designs. The notes edge outward beyond my line of sight. I watch as the show begins. A shimmering spectacle as central vision disappears…if only for a moment. Then time, unfettered by containment lines, sends searing pain. Hello again unwelcome stranger.
DEE GRANT 2021
In this short piece I have tried to capture an eye migraine. ‘Unfettered by containment lines’ means that I didn’t take anything to resolve it. As many would know that suffer from eye migraines, if you treat it as soon as the signs appear you can sometimes avoid it turning into a migraine.
For me these make you cry with pain. Even the sound of water dripping on tiles makes your head scream. Showers become painful necessities. Light to your eyes is pure agony so no TV and no screen time. Have I done it justice?
It is in silence I create, I can decipher, I can relate Random gems of unknown purity, bubble up from deep obscurity Bubbling up clear unfettered, not encased in tunes so lettered
I know the silence that you seek, a place to ponder a place to speak Not with words that close your mind, but open pathways all entwined For in this place you can create, you can reflect, you can debate
And when all thoughts have quietened down, and questions lose their tensioned frown You elevate from noisy spheres, and find that space set free from fear A masterpiece is what you paint, random sketches of a saint.
After many years of university study, words become scrawl. Scrawl becomes a treasure trove of inspiration. Text turns into it’s own motif. The greater the need to focus the more text becomes a rhythm. A rhythmic sea of text that appears and disappears like waves on the beach.
Unexpected words from a speaker cause a flurry of scrawl barely readable. Then, as the tide of information dissipates, thumbnail sketches appear like cocktails at a resort.
Drawn at a professional development weekend on teaching ethics. Discerning the Message was drawn on a Best Western notepad while listening to a keynote speaker.
I came across this little poem recently that I wrote in my early 20’s. Can’t believe how down I was about the world back then nor how lost I felt. Thanks Dad for giving me the wiggle room to see the world through a different lens.
My life was but a battlefield a war within my soul, of building mighty fortresses against a cold world. A tough and hard exterior, a hardened view of life, of living up to others’ opinions for my life.
But deep inside a child peered out amidst the mire. A gentle spirit, a gentle heart, the real me sat and cried. For loneliness and heartache had crushed this tender heart and all that was left within was but a little spark.
And I thank my loving father for fanning that spark to flame for showing me how to be myself and not have to be ashamed of who I am, or what I do, or how I see the world.
…what employer would hire some ‘blow-in’ from interstate?
(with audio) Previously it was about That Elusive First Job. Now a new adventure! I had some idea that I was going to be some famous artist when I finished studies in fine arts years ago. I really ‘drank the Kool-aid’ on that one. So I moved north interstate to a great tourist town on Queensland’s Gold Coast. I started to look for work. I looked and I looked and I looked. Month after month I pounded that pavement, applied for those jobs, and wrote those targeted cover letters. Nothing! Plenty of knock backs. I even offered to work for free and still ‘a flat no’… It was really soul destroying.
My husband is stuck with me here in my pain, for better or worse must drive him insane
Today another day I wish I was away, away from the pain of my everyday. Though I live in a place that people would love, all I feel is pain and I pray to above. I pray to above for a bit of reprieve, cause I’m locked in this body with no way to leave.
It’s autoimmune they’ll remind me. Yes it sucks when at night your muscles twitch and weave. Yes we know you’re in pain, what meds can we give, what stretches, what counselling, to make life worth the live? But I know through experience from years on this road, there’s no silver lining just carry the load.
‘You don’t look twice’ when you’re able bodied. Your there, rushing to get to work, ‘pounding the pavement’ to catch that bus, or grabbing that coffee. It’s like a mental repertoire of the familiar as we journey through our everyday. You go into autopilot. Then things go ‘pear shaped’.
Here is insight from a working age woman reflecting on human kindness after her world was ‘turned upside down’ a few years ago.
I get around on a 4 wheel walker these days. It’s a proper ‘pain in the neck’. Wasn’t part of my 5 year plan! But ‘it is what it is’ and has taught me a thing or two about the human spirit.
These 3 small things mean the world to me.
The power of a smile It’s the smile of someone walking past. They understand. It is a quiet acknowledgement. A kindness that needs no words. How delightful!
Time I need to plan things to the minutest detail. I love it when people appreciate that there is no such thing as hurrying up. I need to live my life considered now, not ‘hitting the ground running’ like when I was a rep.
Small acts of kindness It’s the person that holds the umbrella over your head even though there not going your way. The lady that hails down a cab for you because they know you can’t.
My world may be small these days but these things really put a ‘smile on my dial’.
Term phrase meaning
You dont look twice – you don’t have to think about it
Pounding the pavement – running
Pear shaped – don’t turn out like you think
Turned upside down- things happen out of your control
It is what it is – a common phrase. The way things are.
Pain in the neck – very annoying
Hit the ground running – common term used in team building. Means to do your best
Can you see it coming around the bend? It's that nasty little curveball that you've learnt to depend. Have you made a mistake no matter how small? Then whoosh, there it goes, that nasty curveball.
It will have you in a panic and no thought will be clear But hey, just relax there's nothing to fear. No need to say sorry again and again. Just take a deep breath and count to ten.
For when you panic that pitcher smells fear. They know you'll be flustered and just not thinking clear. They'll polish that ball and throw it once more. Convinced it's a 'no brainer' and they'll score all the more.
So sort out that curveball and give it a great whack. Whack it out of the stadium until you lose track. Get the tools that you need to put your score on the board. No chance for that curveball to get you no more!
BY DEE GRANT 2020
Art Design – That Nasty Curveball – DEE GRANT – 2020