"All the
world's
a stage..."
Still waiting...
Waiting... Waiting...
Looking in...
Looking out...
Dig deep...
STAIRWAY TO THE SKY...
Looking down... Seeing up... Deep shallows...
Oh Summer, you have arrived. Wearing your gossamer veil which pools on my briny skin...
Inhale, Exhale...Moving forward...
Deep in this morning is another time...
Eucalyptus earth...
Pungent healing...
After the rain.
Pungent healing...
After the rain.
SKY FOREST...
LOOK UP, SEE THE STORIES...
Jacaranda gold,
support act.
Jacaranda purple
in the wings...
Rambling arms twisted, entwined...
Pendulous egg shaped ruby, green, flecked...
Intense, exotic aroma...
First passionfruit crop...
It was
a
lemon scented gum
kind of
morning...
Bunya moon, dark and light...
Raw silk sea
lifts, billows, folds, falls, frays...gathers
and tosses me through
an egg shell blue void.
White collars of foam
Belts of salt
Ephemeral lace cloths...
Belts of salt
Ephemeral lace cloths...
Melaleuca candelabra...
Table settings change
Guests arrive, depart...
Through the maze of twigs...
Their heady scent seducing our senses
as the seasons change...
Peacock green and blue (my favourites), ruby reds, rose pinks, rose yellows, azure, tangerine... My tongue roamed excitedly along my lips. Violet, coal black, mandarin orange, moonlight white...
“Indigo!” I plucked the storm dark thread from where it nestled between slate grey and olive green (I never chose those colours. Too boring, like the uniform Mrs. Breem wore at the chemist shop).
...She started her first tapestry the day they turned the soil for the apple trees. The first thread was green. For new pasture. And then, yellows and browns for the swathes cut through the crops in spirals, diagonals, squares and rectangles.
She wove the colours of the sky. Sunrise wisps of fairy floss pink. Late afternoon low, broad streaks which faded to pools of blue so pale and deep she felt she could jump into them if she climbed the hill above the stables. Indigo storms. And golden light after the rain.
life and love rich in colours...choose the best quality thread...
from short story Choose A Colour ©Elizabeth g. Arthur
“Indigo!” I plucked the storm dark thread from where it nestled between slate grey and olive green (I never chose those colours. Too boring, like the uniform Mrs. Breem wore at the chemist shop).
...She started her first tapestry the day they turned the soil for the apple trees. The first thread was green. For new pasture. And then, yellows and browns for the swathes cut through the crops in spirals, diagonals, squares and rectangles.
She wove the colours of the sky. Sunrise wisps of fairy floss pink. Late afternoon low, broad streaks which faded to pools of blue so pale and deep she felt she could jump into them if she climbed the hill above the stables. Indigo storms. And golden light after the rain.
life and love rich in colours...choose the best quality thread...
from short story Choose A Colour ©Elizabeth g. Arthur