The Whistler

By Mary Oliver

All of a sudden she began to whistle By all of a sudden I mean that for more than thirty years she had not whistled. It was thrilling. At first I wondered, who was in the house, what stranger? I was upstairs reading, and she was downstairs. As from the throat of a wild and cheerful bird, not caught but visiting, the sounds warbled and slid and doubled back and larked and soared.

Finally I said, Is that you whistling? Yes, she said, I used to whistle, a long time ago. Now I see I can still whistle. And cadence after cadence she strolled through the house, whistling.

I know her so well, I think, I thought. Elbow and ankle. Mood and desire. Anguish and frolic. Anger too. And the devotions. And for all that, do we even begin to know each other? Who is this I’ve been living with for thirty years?

This clear, dark, lovely whistler?
  And a few  recent lil’faces;) mixed media for most

I felt bored and uninspired with my creativity lately so I decided to paint faces intuitively and quickly. Good exercise to stimulate my practice!


I always loved this expression ‘wee bit’. Love the sound of it, unreal word.

Here is a wee bit of magic..

I often struggle with series it seems, when it is  planed; less intuitive, less spontaneous,  the magic doesn’t appear easily. If not at all!

I had created this cute face with a rabbit suit out of nowhere last week end and was totally smitten by him. So I decided to try a series. 


Not quite there…

  Certainly a wee bit of fun;)


How to deal with disappointment?
and where does it lead us…

I was so looking forward to this camping trip. I couldn’t wait to be far away, disconnected, in a remote place. In the W i l d. 

We prepared for some time. We talked about it. So many times. And prepared more.
We were so ready, organized. All the gear, the extra stuff that you need when you go remote. The spare tires, the fuel, the extra fuel, food, good food. R e a d y !

I had bought myself a gorgeous watercolor paper Moleskine art journal and planned to take with me Jo Bertini – Fieldwork, a beautiful book about sketches and gouache she made in the desert, as my inspiration! I visualized myself being immersed in the endless scenery, the wilderness, the absence of connection, the nature everywhere, feeding me…

I could see myself drawing the landscape, sitting in the shade of a gum tree, chasing the flies away, drawing, feeling, drawing, breathing….

But the camping trip was cut short. Two smashed tires on a hard gravel road. So we came back earlier. Darn!
And here I am reading blogs, checking my phone, pesting against the walls I am entrenched in.

I will paint instead, and meditate; will wait for the next trip…
for the next adventure.

I am weary.

Camping studio 


Our camping trip was cut very short. Two smashed tires in the middle of nowhere on the Gibb River Road obliged us to return.

No 1


No 2…..  In a 20-minute interval

No spare anymore at this stage and the daylight fading beautifully on us.. 


The beauty surrounding us was breathtaking. Camping in the wild is always nurturing, even in blemished circumstances. 



Unforgiving Gibb Road. Certainly reknown for its challenges. 

 My expression of it all, once back home. 

The face of disappointment   

Very grateful to be able to express those feelings through creativity;)

Going out bush

We are getting ready for our camping trip to a remote place in the Kimberley’s in WA. I can’t wait to be disconnected from the rest of the world, where no internet connection nor wifi rein. Only the wild open sky. 

Camping is so much about being in the present moment; the pace is so different, the sounds, the amazing scenery that swallows us. 

With me of course: art supplies, art journal, camera and tripod.