Home

I'm currently homeless.  No, I am not sleeping rough.  I have a nice room with dear friends who I know care about my welfare.  Why else would they let me stay for four weeks.  Despite this, my homelessness creates anxiety.  Am I over-staying my welcome? Am I too lazy? Should I do more to help? Am I in the way? I know these questions are somewhat superficial.  They're surface issues when the real anxiety is around having a place where I can anchor, surrounded by the remnants of my life.

Photos of my children and grandchildren. Photos of the places I have been and the friends who have brightened my journey.

Pieces of art, original and collected.  Trinkets like the beautiful red crystal champagne goblets and gold espresso cups that came my way. And the  pewter decorated red wine glass my eldest son gave to me.

Books and tools of my trade.

I have never been particularly materialistic, having surrendered the bulk of my possessions a number of times so I know this yearning is not about materialism. Home is a place for the soul.

Without HOME, I am anxious, a little depressed and finding it hard to stay motivated to the do the things I would enjoy doing and which would enrich my life.

Metaphors are floating through my mind,  nautical ones such as without anchor, rudderless (yes I do feel I have no clear direction), all at sea
and then an image of a tree blowing in the wind, I too feel I am being tossed by the wind but I have no roots, I am ungrounded.

Fortunately I do have good friends who care and I have creative outlets to help me ride through the anxiety so I can rollerskate in a buffalo herd (Thanks Roger Miller) however I still yearn for my own HOME.

Here is one of the poems I wrote:

Writing on Black

I'm writing on black

black is the hole I am falling into, overwhelmed by feelings of astronomical proportions

black is the dog barking at my heels

black is my dreaming; strange shapes emerge to cower me

black is the colour of my maw as it opens to devour. . . . you? . . . me?

If all is black, why can I still see me?

Developing creative practice

I have been attempting to develop my creative practice.  I figure the best way to develop it is by doing so when I moved to Coconut Grove to house-sit I endeavoured to write, or do something creative every day.   This went well for the first couple of weeks and then I got involved in other short-term projects, creative ones to be sure.  

One of these was participation in "The True Blue Straight and Narrow Normal People's Club".  It was great fun getting to know the other members of the cast.  There were moments that were challenging and which caused me to question what messages I am giving through my performances and what messages I want to give. In particular there is a scene where I bash the prime minister to death with my banjo.  Given my songs and poetry that oppose violence I had to sit with this and think it through.   I realised I was perhaps being a little 'precious' especially seeing the song I sang in the show was a parody of BDSM.  

I believe reflection is a valuable tool in developing any practice.  I consider myself an "arts for health" practitioner so reflection on the content, messages and ethics of my art is important.  I resolved my dilemma about being violent by separating myself from the role.  I had no dilemma about my song.  As a sex positive feminist I believe in freedom of sexual expression.  

To share some to my creative practice here are a couple of the poems I wrote while at Coconut Grove. 

ABBOT STEW

Abbott, rhymes with rabbit

And like that pestilent creature

He shows no regard for the damage caused to the environment

Or ecological balance

Abbott, rhymes with rabbit

In a frenzy breeding

Bigots and fear-mongers,

Racists and haters.

Abbott, rhymes with rabbit

And so too does he hide out in burrows

To avoid those who want rid of him.

Abbott, rhymes with rabbit

But I don’t think he’d taste good in any stew

Regardless of the amount of red wine added

Copyright Shirley (Shel) O’Toole 2015

SUFFER NOT THE LITTLE CHILDREN

Sometimes I shed tears for the children in detention centres

The children in refugee camps

The children whose lives have been torn apart by war

Suffer not the little children.

Why then a world plagued by war

Our children are worth so much more

Than the horror they live in everyday

which is constantly reinforcing to them

There is no other way

Violence normalised

populations desensitised

children traumatised

life on earth cannabalised

Copyright Shirley (Shel) O’Toole 2015

Creating the Living Dream: Living the Creative Dream

I have been in a place of hibernation about my next step . . . yes I was going to buy a van and go from place to place, and then my friend and arts business mentor, Brenda Logan asked the pertinent question: . . . . by whose invitation?

Whoa . . . . .yes I was being rather presumptuous, assuming I would be welcome because I am a musician and storyteller.

And then Burunga Festival, where I recognised I am  not feeling fit enough to embark on such an adventure alone and if I did, I would be scared of dying by myself along some deserted roadside.  Not the prettiest picture.

I did more than recognise. . . . . I acknowledged I am scared of sitting in conversations with First Nations people because I don't know enough about their protocols to ensure I don't offend anybody.

I remembered then the reactions to my music and I am reminded I have a good heart.

Which leads me to recognise my loud mouthed bitch has a role to play in sharing truth  And I cringe and pull faces and I have to acknowledge how, without structure and space for her voice to be heard, she/I becomes destructive. Kali - the destroyer Goddess.

Its been a reflective time, a time of confronting myself and seeing how I fight my own yearning to walk my talk.

So I have back-pedalled on becoming the travelling storyteller.  While I am happy to travel, I would prefer to have  the knowledge that I have somewhere to go home to with a comfortable bed, space to move around in and friends I can invite around to share a meal with.

I am hanging onto the intention with which I want to work and that is reflected in this song.

https://soundcloud.com/shelalagh/because-i-have-lovemp3


Thanks for and to those who  support me and remind me to honour my gifts.


25/6/2015

Living Your Dream?

Do you live your dream?
Or do you hanker for it?
Do you own what you manifest in your life?  Both the brilliant and the dross?
How do you know when its time for change in your life?

I've been working in government for eight months.  I've worked in government before and I promised myself . . . NEVER AGAIN!
I came to that conclusion because I found government stifling.  I was not supposed to speak out about the things I disagreed with or the things I saw.  I was not allowed to protest.  Taking away the right to fully express ones-self could be seen as a form of bullying.

I wrestle then with arguments about whether I am part of the problem? or a part of the solution?  Can I not use who I am and what I know to bring about change?  And if I want change, what is the change I want to see. If I maintain my behaviour, will others follow? Its rather thin ice I am treading on when I venture into this terrain because I do see my own bitterness and ugliness and I end up really despising my inability to remain with my heart and soul and integrity.  I  adopt the culture of the organisation I am working in, quite rapidly. It happened again in this job and being older and less intolerant I found it harder than ever to remain strong and be positive.

And then I think about my goal before getting the job.  I wanted a good paying job that would  provide the resources for me to get me  of debt.  And this job has done that.  And now it is time for me to go back to my dream.

The dream is to buy a camper van, one big enough to live in while being small enough to get into interesting places in the Australian landscape. I want to sing and dance in this wide brown land of ours.  I want to dance in red dust in Central Australia.  I want to see the Islands and get to know the people who live in the path of cyclones and show such resilience. I want to celebrate this incredible land and the amazing people who populate it.  And do this through the sharing of stories.

I want to do this because I know in my soul it is what I am meant to be doing.


And while I am doing it I will also collect lullabies from other cultures.
And other music.  Music is the heart of a place.

So my wild and wise friends, I have decided to get enough of my super released to buy a decent and reliable camper van and travel and do exactly what I believe I am meant to be doing.  Thanks Department of Housing, you've helped me attain a goal and given me the impetus to go and live my dream.

There's a crack in everything, its how the light gets through  (Leonard Cohen)

WHY I CHOSE THE WORD LOVE

At a Department of Housing stakeholder forum in November 2014 I was a part of an exercise in which we had to design a model of service provision.  We were asked to include principles and values that underpin provision of support services.

I’m someone with many years experience in the human services industry (I've been here since 1988) and even more years as an activist for social justice. I asked that we place a heart in the middle of our diagram and in my reporting back of our service design, I used the word love.  Some people found this reference to love appalling.  Someone ventured the opinion it is what has held the non-profit sector back. 

I disagree.  In my opinion, part of what has held the non-profit sector back is the domination of charity and church- based organisations filling their coffers with management fees and administration fees and the ridiculous imitation of corporate structures that indulge in endless negotiations to get more money to keep their structure propped up, while innovation and artists  are starved for funds.

If they think they can get more money through a creativity based program they will take it on and all the while, their coffers fill with tax-payers money.  

I know some of the individuals who work in these organisations, as well as individuals who work within government structures truly believe they are there to work for the people.  I am currently one of those people. 

Deep breath . . . . .

I do digress, so please, allow me return to a space of love and share 10 reasons why I choose to use the word love:

I chose and continue to choose love  because:

1.       Love gives me ears and eyes that hear and see truth more easily.
2.       When I listen with my heart low down on the ground, I know that love has the power to heal the past.
3.       When I am feeling love, I believe in the good in everyone and I can get them to see their own good;
4.       When I am working from a place of love I am working with respect, with trust, with integrity, with openness.
5.       Love respects.
6.       Love opens my intuition.
7.       Love is the power that leads to transformation.
8.       Love is kind.
9.       Love is honest.
10.          Love is a door. 

I won’t apologise for using the word love when I talk about a value for working with people, and especially vulnerable people. 

I am passionate about the right of people to be nurtured, to be shown positive human regard, to be valued, to be vulnerable, to be included and to be heard. 

When do you use the word love?  and why?