Sunday 19 August 2007

Broken Hill


I remember finishing off my drawing in a communal lounge in an old pub in Broken Hill. An old shearer who had drunk a few too many beers was trying to aim his fork laden with spagetti into his mouth. You guessed it, most of his food landed on him or the floor. He was ever so polite and kept apologising to me but I didn't take offence. Broken Hill is in far west NSW in Australia. A mining town with a flourishing art community. The surrounding desert was so beautiful and the colours of the sky at sunset held such magic for me.

Wednesday 8 August 2007

Nice Matters award

I am very honoured to get the nice matters award from Jullie of Jullies world and now
pass it on to a few other deserving ladies out there in blogland i consider very nice indeed.

My Syrian Memories

The majority of the people of Skelbieh were of the Greek Orthodox Christian faith. The local father of the church was a very learned man and could speak and write in many languages. He taught my childrens' grandfather to read and write. He is located far left in my drawing. One of the local musicians is on his right and a map of my homeland Australia is again to the right of him. On the far right is a drawing of a (soo-pea-er), in other words, a heater that uses kerosene fuel. The local wheat fields are represented bottom left. I loved the spring months when the wind would blow the wheat stalks in rhythmic unison and I felt I was looking over a green ocean. I had to pinch myself to remember they were wheat fields.Christmas time was always fun and the children would dress up and wear masks on New Years Eve. They would knock on doors and were given lollies and other goodies. Not a word was spoken and one never knew who had knocked on their door. We celebrated all the religious festivals, both Moslem and Christian. The mud house drawing on the bottom left was the one room and kitchen that my childrens' father and his twelve siblings grew up in.















This wonderful musician was a family friend of my childrens' grandparents. He would play his array of pipes and flutes at all the towns' celebrations. He would often visit and take out his hand made pipe and play a tune. I remember his long nimble fingers and tall stature.