“A pile of rocks ceases to be a pile of rocks when someone contemplates it with the idea of a cathedral in mind” (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
I miss my rocks in our Estelle Street garden.
Rocks I could sit on and drink my special coffee in the early morning sun, just being one with nature, in my garden.
Rocks I have photographed endlessly.
Rocks I have used in my artworks, from the gigantic spiral snake I created all over the lawn next to the pool, to the bound rocks as part of the Barbie art work.
Rocks I had in mind for a fantastical dragon-mosaic project…
Rocks where blue “koggelmandas” used to do their push-ups.
Rocks where little toddlers Kyle and Roarke saw a “faak” which scared them half to death.
Rocks that have ferns or nasturtiums growing in or on them.
Rocks where Jack’s squeakies would tumble down and be hidden in the crevices.
Rocks on which Tom’s metal dragon skeleton stood.
Rocks on which I draped and posed myself for the “Games [wo]men play [with men]” art project. (Tom, you will remember the photo shoot!!)
Rocks that became part of the Peace garden, created by Tom, Deidre, Kyle, Roarke and Ariel, each of us having a little part in it.
[I really miss, with great longing in my heart, my Estelle Street garden. How will I bear parting with it forever?]
When I wanted a rock for something> they were just there. This morning I decided I needed some rocks. I didn’t actually believe I would find any in our little garden here in the UK. But I found four! I created a mini artwork shrine, which I ‘contrived’ (this is for you Tom!) especially to photograph. I had to contend with the wind which kept blowing my purple petals* away, and Lily sniffing the precariously balanced rocks. I had to redress my ‘set’ a few times.
The rocks also represent the many people in my life who are my foundation and my security. With much love.
* purple petals blowing in the wind = a fitting farewell tribute to gorgeous purple hair which I HAD. It is now a very normal coppery red colour. I don’t know if I can cope with it…