We stand at the edge of 60 pages and stare. Shifting articles, shifting them back,swapping images, swapping them back, looking, re-looking, landing, staring. The ‘ping’ of live email chat between us punctuates the work of it all when we are both here. The two hour time difference between Perth and Sydney provokes a constant handover and tag-team of ‘doing’.
Lilly and I are living in each other’s pockets on opposite sides of the county. And yes, I have said that before, but only now have we really wished to be in the same room, with the prototype of text and images on the floor, and tea and time to support the overwhelm. Lilly steps away from the computer to get a bit of perspective. I have another look. We ready ourselves for the next dive in.
We are weighed down with business and big decisions. With the constancy and pressure. With the need for more minutes in a day when we are already signing off after midnight. With the responsibility and the outrageous work ethic we both have. With the noticing of our usual artistic practice slightly sidelined and missing us. With the intensity and relentless BIG drive.
And then, in the middle of the too much, we laugh. We talk about kids and irreverence. And make speech bubbles for a little BIG bird who will fly comments throughout the magazine. I offer Lilly a feeble joke. She comes back with an unlikely one that tips the world on it’s head for a minute.
Why did the owl say tweet tweet?
Because she didn’t give a hoot.
The smile breaks our stride and we see differently. Today my little girl said Kookaburra for the first time (they are laughing everywhere at the moment), and my boys flew. Literally. Repeatedly.
Without fear or hesitation.
They looked. They readied. They jumped.
Lilly and I take a few running steps…
|Slipstream flight and catapult treasure and tree root under challenge and repeating bark. Layer and gather, fold and repeat. Accumulate direction and tailspin potential right back to immediacy and beginning. Brave and generous leap.
on Jul 17, 2011