Look around you. If there are others all moving in the same direction, and they look like you, and they move like you, and they all like the same things, and they hate the same things, and they are angry about the same things, and they are screaming about the same things, chances are you are on the wrong path.
If you turn and veer onto a different path,even though these people who all think the same thoughts, and say the same things, and behave the same way, may look at you, and may scoff at you and may even threaten you, carry on — as uncertain and crooked as the path may be. Keep moving, because though this path may not be the easiest path, or even the best path, it will be the most interesting, the most instructive, even the most enlightened path. It is your path, where you get to be who you want to be, say what you want to say, and love what you want to love — your path — and you can take much comfort from that, because you may be the one who shudders, you may be the one whospins and glows, you may be the one who shines, you may even be the one whobursts into flames, but even still, there you are and all along you go — your path, your path.
A reminder of how stories connect us to the world and ultimately, the power of kindness . . .
The story of Bambert – an impossibly small man with an enormous love for writing. Tucked away in his quiet attic, his only companions are the characters he has created in his stories. And then one day, Bambert decides to set his stories free, to send them out into the world on little hot air balloons in the hope that they will find a home. From Barking Gecko Theatre.
Reposting this article which was written in 2007 reflecting on a presentation I gave at CAYPAKS (Children and Young People and Key Stakeholders) Convention, and Eating Disorder Prevention and Treatment Conference (2008), titled ‘Why Have Our Children Stopped Dancing’.
Now, 13 years on, particularly in COVID times, it seems even more relevant …
Imagine…..what if we could wave a magic wand to help young people feel better about themselves what would that world look like? Dr Who and his time machine, the Tardis, immediately came to mind. I wondered whether I’d choose to travel into the future or past in search of a place that nurtured the growth of children?
With the good old days in mind, I ventured down memory lane . . . It was a time before automation, technology and mass media had stolen children’s creativity, curiosity and the opportunity for them to build a bank of experiences that develop character, strength and resilience—give life purpose and meaning. A culture where the qualities of kindness, innovation, creativity, community involvement, authenticity, and a social and environmental conscience were considered as valuable, if not more so, as a university degree and a six figure salary.
Something beautiful on the internet here at The Red Hand Files . Nick Cave answers fans questions. ‘What is shyness?”. “How long will I be alone?” “How do you stop fearing the end of the world?” “What are your plans for the Corona pandemic?”
Nick Cave: “We all needed to draw ourselves back to a state of wonder. My way was to write myself there … but I also realised that I was not alone in my grief and that many of you were, in one way or another, suffering your own sorrows, your own griefs. I felt this in our live performances. I felt very acutely that a sense of suffering was the connective tissue that held us all together.” Like postcards from an old friend, the letters on The Red Hand Files invite us to pause, look up and savour life.
Making homemade Boots Posters as a gift for posting up in hospital wards and community groups during Covid times. Email to arrange, with hospital/community group name and postal address. Boots The Clown arrived early 2020 during lock down/isolation.
Natalie Trayling’s story is one of triumph over tragedy – and the power of music to hold and change lives. (Found in Weekend Australian Magazine).
Not owning a piano, Natalie would go into the David Jones store in Melbourne city. For years she was a fixture there. But few knew that each night, Natalie disappeared onto the streets, often sleeping in parks and gardens, until dawn when David Jones store opened for her to play again.
A Mother of four children, Natalie’s daughter Kerin was killed in a car accident outside the family home when she was just six years old. Her youngest child Nathan, a promising junior sportsman, suffered depression and was diagnosed with schizophrenia. Her second daughter, Jo-Ann, died from cystic fibrosis. In a final, cruel blow, the family home they’d all once happily shared burnt to the ground. For the past two decades Natalie has chosen to live and share her life’s work on the streets of Melbourne, for no money and no fanfare. (Natalie is originally from Perth,Western Australia and graduated from Santa Maria College with a diploma of music at the age of 17. ) See article by Sue Sethurst, here. Her son Matthew has recorded her music here.
