AUSTRALIA ~ The Antipodes

AUSTRALIA ~ The Antipodes
I love a sunburnt country / A land of sweeping plains / Of ragged mountain ranges / Of droughts and flooding rains / I love her far horizons / I love her jewel-sea / Her beauty and her terror / The wide brown land for me / ~ Dorothea Mackellar (1885-1968)


Monday, July 5, 2010

If I were to be...

Pic by Gemma Wiseman ~ Ambivalent winter morning skies in the Dromana Hills, Mornington Peninsula
Sunday Scribblings #222 - ME

*** 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.

Hosted by
Laini Genge and
Megg Taylor


Teena in Toronto said...

Happy blogoversary :) Mine was just a couple days ago.

flaubert said...

Gemma what a lovely poem!
It certainly made me think about our alternatives!

Granny Smith said...

I am in awe of your poetic ability. To me you are not a sheet of white paper but rather etchings on my soul.
Sincerely, Phyllis Sterling Smith (Granny Smith).

Anonymous said...

Awesome, Gemma. The last line is perfect.

I love the way you weave these lovely word paintings of nature into your writing. I love the photographs too.

I so enjoy visiting here.

Anonymous said...

yoou are one amazing blogger is all i can say :)

Divaa Divine said...

you are an awesome person and an awesome blogger !!! glad SS lead me to you :)

Visit me for my prompt at

Marsha said...

Lovely writing; the images you called for were different for me. I see whips when I see willow trees. I could be a wonderful boulder in a mountain stream! thanks.

Anonymous said...

Love these lines that lead to compelling imagery that leads to inspiration! Particularly stirring: a log fire hosted by an old armchair, Autumn as a mystical limbo raining in color, exotic worlds of a chocolate box, tai chi skies. Thanks for leaving me breadcrumbs to this : )



A place of beauty in the Western Tiers


View near Blackwood Park Cottages, Mole Creek

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Archive of Blog Quotes

  • A perfect summer day is when the sun is shining, the breeze is blowing, the birds are singing, and the lawn mower is broken. ~James Dent
  • Autumn is an introspective season when stray thoughts of the mind dive into the mystique of the soul - Gemma Wiseman
  • Autumn is the bridesmaid of Summer and the flowergirl of Winter ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Autumn whispers the tones of yesterday in a minor key ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Love is born / With a dark and troubled face, / When hope is dead / And in the most unlikely place; / Love is born, / Love is always born. - Michael Leunig's Christmas Song Cycle "Southern Star"
  • Spring paints the stars of heaven in Earth colours ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Summer sizzles with a sibilant hush / Broken by dreams of / Clinking ice ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul. - G.K. Chesterton
  • Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all. - Stanley Horowitz
  • Winter is the fire, simmering lonely in the soul ~ Gemma Wiseman
  • Winter is the shadow, the etching of the seasons in the mist ~ Gemma Wiseman

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