This past year has been dedicated to creativity. Our household split in two, one staying and one leaving to follow The Dancer’s song. I managed to write and finish a record, put together a small EP, write a bunch of new songs, write a work for Rachael Elliott, write a duet for Dual Aura, and a bunch more, and with a little help from others.  

I am going to continue to make music and to share with you’all as best I can. My continued apologies for being so remote and not being able to play or sing for you in person. I am working on it. 

My students were lovely to teach, and I look forward to more young and old hominids passing through my doors, playing my instruments, filing my ears with your voices and ideas. Choir was a hoot, held at school on Tuesday’s lunchtime. Adults and children sang songs in language, in English, in spirit. Our last event was a song attack. The lost art of cultural war. 

Looking out to the world, I hope that our lump of earth and it’s peoples, animals, and all manner of creatures, trees and live growing things…….be well. 

Yesterday, I cried inwardly at the haters, looked forward to meeting the humble and enlightened. In the night, I frightened a wombat on the slope across the road. Scared and quick, he scurried across the road and into the scrub. I was happy that he was off the side of the road, but for him it was a scary chase, away from the lovely green shoots growing on the human sidewalk. Perched on the edge of wilderness he is a symbol of our precipice. 

I wish for a shrinking human presence on this planet, moderation and care. I wish for strength to visit those in need, softness to touch our houses of governance, wonder, peace to lay upon you all, abundance in nature, and a gentle touch on our planet. 

In Australia, I wish for strength and prosperity to return and rest upon our first peoples, with freedom to pursue paths of strength and well being. Padma.

“Eagle Eyes The Distance” by Susannah Keebler

Closer water laps my feet.

Eagle eyes the distance.

Guess the length, know the route in advance. 

Eagle eyes the distance.

And tide pulls and takes what’s underneath.

The ocean makes us feel like ants.

Water feels the beat.

And tide pulls and takes what’s underneath.

Retrograde rip, ping pong tide.

Retrograde rip, ping pong tide.

Holding onto seaweed kedge.

Bellies rise, fall, float, then wade.

Atop the warm water surface

Outstretched, outstretched. 

Holding onto seaweed kedge.

Tendrils twine, holdfast we climb.

Carefully above the water’s edge we climb.

Ribs, ripple, flag, a sheet set on a line.


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