If I were to be...

Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Ambivalent winter morning skies in the Dromana Hills, Mornington Peninsula
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Sunday Scribblings #222 - ME
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*** This is my Gemma Wiseman profile on Helium

To understand me...

To understand me, perhaps a few tangibles may help.

If I were the sky, I would be a cloud drifting, reshaping, reinventing, but always enigmatic. If I were the earth, I would be a rock, bathing in the rush of a waterfall. If I were a tree, I would be a willow, that soft lacy wandering in the whims of breezes, dreaming quietly by water.

If I were a place, I would be Sheffield in Tasmania; coloured with murals whispering of other lifetimes; wrapped in the mystery of blue mountains flecked with snow.

If I were a shop, I would be Berkelouw's rambling magic of a homestead, alone in serene farmland, in Berrima NSW; graced with an intimate cafe, window boxes of vibrant geraniums and a wonderful log fire hosted by an old armchair. And of course, those books forgotten by the mainstream bookworld.

If I were a garden, I would be Mount Annan Botanic Garden south of Sydney NSW. A healing place, where forested boardwalks gently lead to sanctuaries of old songlines and a sundial on a hill waits for human shadows to cast time.

If I were to be a season, I would be Autumn; that mystical limbo raining in color.

If I were to be an element, I would be Water, the paradox of a variable constant; sometimes plains of blue leading to silken road horizons; sometimes lapping charms by those coastal sands of decision; sometimes cleansing, healing hands; sometimes drowning rebirth.

If I were a bread of life, I would wink impishly from the exotic worlds of a chocolate box.

But, I am none of those things, for now.

For now, I am just some eerie etchings on a white slate, trying to drift in a tiny bark through tai chi skies.



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