Posted in Africa, Books, nature, Poetry, tagged ABC Tales, Frances Macaulay Forde, Harry Owen, POEM:Thandi, Rhino Anthology on July 13, 2014| 2 Comments »
Yesterday, I received my copy of For RHINO in a Shrinking World, the anthology published to raise awareness and funds of their plight.
Just a quick flick through and I am very impressed. Although my entry ‘Thandi‘ wasn’t successful, those that were are worth a read.
So I posted my poem up on the ABC Tales board and received some complimentary feedback and today – a cherry!
Thank you to the ABC Powers That Be for making my Sunday.
Posted in Africa, Animals, Art, Books, nature, Poetry, Writers, Writing, tagged Africa, Artist: Jessica McCallum, Elephants, Exhib: All the Pretty Ones Are, Frances Macaulay Forde, Global March for Elephants and Rhinos, Harry Owen, Jessica McCallum, poems, Rhinos, Satao of Tsavo, writing on June 15, 2014| 7 Comments »
My daughter’s studio. #JessicaMcCallum © 2011
My daughter Jessica McCallum’s 3rd exhibition ‘All the Pretty Ones Are’ (all things Circus) was held in 2011 at the Heath Ledger Theatre foyer in the new and exciting State Theatre Centre.
I feel the poetry I wrote to the artworks of that exhibition, was some of my best; particularly this one written from a childhood memory of the circus coming to our small town in Africa. Although he was an Indian elephant – African elephants can’t be tamed and I love them more, for that.
The Global March for Elephants and Rhinos is a call for a world-wide response to the continued senseless cruelty – the terrible things happening to these beautiful, wise, gentle creatures.
Just weeks ago what’s said to be the largest bull elephant in Africa; Satao of Tsavo in Kenya had his face hacked off for his magnificent tusks!
All this information is thanks to Harry Owen on Facebook: I’ve mentioned before, his book to raise funds for the cause of saving Rhino’s and can’t wait for my copy…
Meanwhile I thought I’d share another of my poems from that exhibition.
Artwork 2 of 4 from the ‘Play’ series, sketch in progress. #JessicaMcCallum © 2011
When I was a child
I remember thinking
that chain around
the elephant’s leg
wasn’t strong enough.
Elephants are tough!
If he wanted, he
could free himself just
by lifting that mighty foot
shaking the metal loose
and walking away…
Why does he stay?
No-one could stop him
If he chose to go, take
his own path. No more
performance on command
– he could find some green.
Walk through jungles again!
Elephants are tough so
why does he stay, stroll
through sawdust, put up
with that lady who leans
into his ear, whispering…
It’s because he loves her.
#FrancesMacaulayForde #JessicaMcCallumArtist #AllThePrettyOnesAreExhib #HarryOwen #GlobalMarchForElephantsAndRhinos #SataoOfTsavo
Posted in Africa, Books, Hidden Capacity, Writing, tagged Africa, Frances Macaulay Forde, Hidden Capacity, Inspiration, writing on June 5, 2014| 6 Comments »
‘Inspiration’ was written earlier but appears on Page 1 of my book ‘Hidden Capacity ~ a poet’s journey’ © 2000.
So I’m speaking here, directly from my heart, remembering my childhood in Africa and the struggles of my dearest Mum and Dad who died many years ago, who would have been so proud to see my words in print.
I’ve arrived at a time in my life where I’ve finally allowed myself to be utterly selfish.
My children had grown after my divorce into balanced, well-educated adults living their own lives, so I took myself to university.
It was my time to put myself first, my needs first, my dreams, soul and heart first, to follow my bliss.
I finally published the book in Ireland for them and for my brothers, children and extended family, just as much as for myself.
My bedroom © 2000
Inspiration
Why do I now prefer writing in my bedroom when I have a perfectly good study – a space cleared for thought?
I feel inspired to dream while I’m awake in here – not there.
Is it because I’ve just coated the room and everything in it a lilac pink?
Is that the colour of my inspiration?
Or does it illicit forgotten memories from my childhood?
The baby-pink bedroom of my spoiled youth, the dear faces of my parents still missed after so many years.
I’ve been through so many colours since then.
But perhaps I need to visit them once again, in my imagination.
Maybe this shade is my mood-connection to the past.
I’m alone now, responsible for the world I live in and my painted walls.
Or could it be something to do with the womb – a protective colour – a safe haven for my dreams.
Help that I need in a harsh world, often too over-whelming for someone totally unprepared or never expecting to be the ‘Bottom Line’.
This softness, which evokes feelings and comfort, allows my mind to wander and explore, knowing I’m enclosed and private, separated from others who see too much.
Or is it the large mirror with its elaborate edge reflecting my thoughts surrounded by soft, gentle, allowing colour?
I look at myself in the frame and from the ‘truth’ of distance – an inner truth?
Is that what empowers my exposure?
Is distance enabling me to write such secret, forgotten feelings in my journal?
My teenage bedroom was a similar pink – total colour – enshrining girlishness and innocence… protection, before adulthood and reality hit me.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2000
#francesmacaulayforde #HiddenCapacity #Inspiration
Posted in Africa, Toys, tagged crafts, Frances Macaulay Forde, gollies, hand-made dolls, hand-made toys, Toy clowns on May 15, 2014| 3 Comments »
My daughter is holding a dolly wearing a matching dress I made for her when she was three. It started a tradition still carried on today with every new baby in the family.
The very last photo in my recent ‘Miss you Mum’ post, my grand-daughter is wearing a dress with a matching doll (just as lovingly made) and wouldn’t let go of her.
Her sister (my other grand-daughter) got one on her 1st birthday last year, too:
One friend of my daughter wanted to surprise his wife with a doll made in her image, wearing traditional dress, for her birthday:
For her 30th, my daughter had a kid-themed party and wanted a mini-me ‘Dorothy’ doll:
The prize for the best dressed costume of the night was a mini-me doll – but The Mario Bros won! I made and dressed TWO dolls and my artistic daughter painted the faces. Both were quickly snaffled by girlfriends!
I made these two boy dolls (1st photo below) for my daughter-in-law’s friends…
Also clowns, more dolls and many, many Gollies which although not politically correct some years ago, now are eminently collectible.
I had a Mama Doll and a Golly when I was young and of my 100+ dolls – those two were my favourites.
Maybe it’s because they seemed more ‘real’ to me, growing up in Africa.
Posted in Africa, Music, Sound, WA Writers, Writing, tagged Dome Cafe, Frances Macaulay Forde, Glen Phillips, HillsFolk Club, John Ryan, Ken Nicol, Maylands, Monday Supper Club, Some Folks Folk, Steeleye Span, Wanneroo Folk Club on May 13, 2014| 3 Comments »
When I was a teenager in Africa (mid-sixties) I don’t know why but our house – more specifically, our front lawn was the meeting place…
Our crowd used to sit in a circle, singing songs until Mum came out and reminded us we had neighbors.
We sang songs by James Taylor; Bread; Simon & Garfunkle; Joan Baez; Mamas & the Papas; Joni Mitchell; Peter, Paul & Mary…
Everywhere I lived I could always find a folk club except when I moved up to the Northern Suburbs in 1985.
So, ever resourceful, I put an ad in the local community paper and the Wanneroo Folk Club was born.
Wanneroo Folk Club members 1985
Years later, it’s still going strong although, I must admit I haven’t been for years – next one’s in June (Friday 13th). Maybe we’ll see you there!
However in 1984, I did make my first 16 mm film about the Hills Folk Club in Kalamunda. If you have 6 minutes to spare and want an 80’s hair reminder, watch my doco ‘Some Folks Folk’.
Still: ‘Some Folks Folk’ – 1984
Last night hubby and I went to a Monday Supper Club at the Dome Cafe in Maylands, to hear my friend Glen Phillips & John Ryan read their poetry.
Glen Phillips & John Ryan reading at the Monday Supper Club – 12/5/14
The food was good and music provided firstly by (organiser) Jane Cornes’ Trio then by the outstanding Ken Nicols formally of Steeleye Span.
Ken Nicol – Monday Supper Club 12/5/14
Must admit the night brought out the inner Folk-ie in me once again…
#SomeFolksFolk #MyFirst16mmFilm #16mmDoco #KalamundaFolkClub #WannerooFolkClub #FolkMusic #EcousticMusic #MusicMemories #1986MusicDoco #1986FolkMusic #FolkMusicWA #WAFolkFederation
Posted in Africa, Animals, Books, nature, Poetry, Writing, tagged animals, extinction, Frances Macaulay Forde, Harry Owen, nature, poems, Rhinos, South Africa on April 27, 2014| 3 Comments »
Busy doing my tax return and came across an unsaved (!) poem I wrote and submitted (some time ago) to be included in an anthology to raise funds for the preservation of Rhinos.
Harry Owen the inaugural Poet Laureate for Cheshire (UK) in 2003, moved to South Africa’s Eastern Cape in January 2008, was the editor and now the book is published I shall put my order in.
Even though they didn’t use my poem I certainly want to support their very worthy cause.
Thandi
Imagine slow, deep heart beats
echoing inside a massive hide.
Slumberous half-blind grazing.
Open veld rare rhino protected.
Unaware evil stalks with intent.
Crack! Stinging rifle shot thrums.
Laboring body lumbers to escape.
Laid low, as deadly saw crudely
works on pointed bone bleeding
on Africa’s Skin. Enough death,
illegal trade. This is no noble
harvest to feed the starving poor…
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2012
Posted in Africa, Children's stories, nature, Short Stories, WA Writers, Writing, tagged Africa, Frances Macaulay Forde, Mwambashi river, Northern Rhodesia, writing, Zambia on April 4, 2014| 4 Comments »
As I’ve mentioned before, although born in Northumberland, I grew up in Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia) in the 50’s and 60’s. I was privileged to have had a protected, idyllic, worry-free childhood.
My Mum & Big Brother on the farm in Garneton… 1960’s
Mwambeshi Memories
Days gone by when safety wasn’t an issue, I remember a little stream that beckoned a group of friends in Garneton. How many times did we saunter – some on bikes – some walking, along the dirt track under the power lines with the warm sun tingling on our shoulders?
I don’t remember being fashion-conscious only comfortable cotton in the hot sun. I don’t remember being boy-conscious (that came later). I just remember loving the escape from home, the walk through the bush, the baking sun and cool, crystal clear water as it hit hot skin.
We laughed a lot; we talked endlessly and carried our innocence and open hearts on our sleeves. God – I miss those days!
How many competitions did we have? Shoes off, stripped down to cossies, we’d race over the hot beige sand and stones burning our feet, to the other side of the bridge.
The bravest would dive into the swiftly running current, going deep, eyes open, avoiding the banks to stay under as long as possible. The current would propel us under the bridge until the air threatened to burst our lungs, spewing water when your head broke the surface.
We’d look around to see who had won. Who had stayed under the water the longest and let the current take them the furthest away from the bridge?
We always sat on the Garneton side, a natural pool which opened up to allow swimming and splashing in comfort. The Marlow’s farm was on the other side of the bridge and further upstream we could hear the cows every now and then.
Later, I remember a story that a crocodile had taken one of the cows from the bank. That croc lived in our Mwambeshi – the stream we swam in every day we could! I don’t remember swimming there much after that.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2014
Posted in Africa, Books, MOVIES, Writing, tagged 44 Scotland Street, Africa, Alexander McCall Smith, Anthony Minghella, books, Frances Macaulay Forde, Mma Ramotswe, No I Ladies Detective Agency, Rail Tales, Trains and Lovers, writing on March 28, 2014| 3 Comments »
Totally star-struck while Alexander McCall Smith signs my books.
Last Thursday at the Octagon Theatre in the University of Western Australia, I spent a most-enjoyable hour giggling as a master storyteller regaled us with quick peeks into his world.
As a HUGE fan who had the affectionate nick-name ‘Susie Matwetwe’ when I lived in Africa, I remain in awe of Alexander McCall Smith; his energy, his easy characterizations and perfect stories…
I love his Botswana stories and find his list of publications absolutely inspiring – he only came to fiction in 1998 and has not stopped producing delightful stories since.
Presented with so many of his wonderful words lined up in boxes in the foyer, it was very difficult to decide what to buy.
He generously signed two books for me. The queue was so long, I was grateful I’d lined up quickly and was in the first 20. (I think every one of us wanted a quiet moment with the master.)
My first purchase that night was “44 Scotland Street” . I’ve heard such lovely things about this series and although I haven’t finished reading all 15 of the “No I Ladies Detective Agency“ series, I’m looking forward to plunging into this one.
The other is “Trains and Lovers ~ The Heart’s journey”. Although my copy’s cover is different from the one shown on his website, how could I resist reading this one when my I had written my own ‘Rail Tales’ from the same ‘platform’.
When it was my turn – actually came face to face; I smiled and said, “How are you?” I know, such an inane thing to say – but I was in awe!
I did recover and ask the question I had wanted to ask in the Q & A after his talk: ‘What about a new TV Series?’
I loved the TV Series Anthony Minghella produced, co-wrote with Alexander and other wonderful writers, and naturally directed with such affection, beautifully.
I’ve always been a fan of Minghella’s ‘big’ films, starting with ‘The English Patient’ – he directed so many. He “used expansive tastes in literature and a deep visual vocabulary to make lush films with complicated themes that found both audiences and accolades. “ His films were so layered, he “used a careful eye for cultural and historical detail” and he brought all that to the TV Series. (Quotes from: New York Times.)
Although it will be difficult to find someone who can ‘read’ the characters and the location so well, I’m hoping one is found, soon.
Posted in Africa, Love, Music, Sounds, tagged 1971, Charlie Watts, Ellington Jazz Club, Frances Macaulay Forde, L'Wren Scott, Mick Jagger, Perth, Rolling Stones, The Casuals, The Equals, Zambia on March 20, 2014| 3 Comments »
‘Sleepy’ Perth has been awoken by the presence of the mighty Rolling Stones although sadly their first Australian concert for many years has to be postponed.
My heart goes out to Mick and all who loved and knew his best friend, L’Wren Scott.
While the band members deal with the change in plans, they’ve been forced to keep their tongue logo parked on the tarmac at Perth Airport.
Last night, drummer Charlie Watts found an outlet for his musical talents at one of our best known secrets; the Ellington Jazz Club.
I’ve very sure the capacity crowd of 135 will dine out on their impromptu concert for many years to come.
My niece Aimee has long been a fan of the club and although many of the family have enjoyed the Jazz, we’ve not got there yet.
Muther’s Convention playing in Zambia, 1971 – Hubby on the left.
So ex-musician hubby and I were discussing our misfortune in not choosing to go, when he told me about his two claims to fame; acting as local tour guides and helping ferry instruments etc when ‘The Casuals’ visited Zambia in about 1971 and his band ‘Muther’s Convention’ playing as support for ‘The Equals’ on their Zambian tour a year later.
I didn’t recognize the names immediately so good old Google came to the rescue and ‘Voila!’ I’m instantly transported with the sound of one of my all-time favorite songs “Jesamine” by the Casuals.
Posted in Africa, Ireland, Love, Poetry, Sketching In Ireland, WA Writers, Writing, tagged Co Cork, Day, Frances Macaulay Forde, Ireland, Irish roots, Loss, Love, Poem, St Patgricks, Western Australia, words, writer, writing on March 17, 2014| Leave a Comment »
St Paddy’s Day in Cork, at the parade, 2003
Spending 14 glorious months in Co Cork and having the opportunity to attend a real Irish St Patrick’s Day Parade on Patrick Street in Cork City; my Irish Hubby and I always raise a glass to our Irish roots.
It turns out (after much family history research) both our families come from Co Cork, about 10 miles from each other ~ but we actually met in the middle of Africa!
My gorgeous Hubby and I celebrating in Oz. 2008.
Inevitably, I can’t help thinking of my dear old Dad who was so proud of his heritage who cannot have his usual Guinness today ~ we lost him 31 years ago.
My Dear Old Dad on holiday in South Africa 1966.
Unconditional
That moment
when I realized
you weren’t asleep,
I couldn’t cry.
I wanted to,
thought I should,
but I couldn’t shed tears
for all those years
when I was loved
unconditionally.
When I knew
no matter what I did
or said, you would always
love me – be there for me.
Put a plaster on my hurts,
fix me up with kisses, give
words to make me feel better.
I’ll never forget your strength.
How your arms encircled me,
the safeness of a oak tree,
dense, caring and complete.
I need that care now!
I need to feel safe again,
to sail into your harbour of care,
find you there, waiting
with open arms, accepting
all my faults, all my mistakes
and letting them go.
You always helped me
move on to new adventures,
strengthened by your love.
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013
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