Transition

Today I am on an aeroplane heading back to the UK. I'll miss a few posts until my internet connection is up and running.

Look forward to sharing my new studio space with you soon.

Mind shift

Mind shift - preparing for the reverse culture shock.

Although many people might think that Britain and Australia have similar cultures and speak the same language, they would be wrong. Many times I've been having a conversation that suddenly comes to a halt as a word is used in a way I'm not used to. Or vice versa where I watch someone's face go blank halfway through my sentence.

I've become used to using 'capsicum' when I'm speaking of peppers, or 'zucchini' for courgettes, but it's still a deliberate thing for me. No doubt now my speech will be sprinkled with 'Australianisms' that I'll need to unlearn. Mostly those words that end in 'o' - arvo, rego - but also I'll need to speak of rotas not rosters.

And then there's the number of people and the height of the buildings and the quality of light. I like the space and the light here, but I won't miss having to put sunscreen on anytime I want to leave the house because the sun is trying to kill me.

Being aware that this culture shock is coming should help. I've read that it can take a year to get over it, so I'm preparing myself and giving myself time.

Boxing up our life

So today's the day that most of our life starts being put into boxes. How many boxes does it take to contain our home? I don't know, but I do know that with a clergyman, an artist, and a writer in the family, a lot of them will contain books :)

I'm lining up a few posts for during the transition and hope to get back to some more contemplative posts once we're back on the other side of the world and my head isn't full of 'the move'. Thank you all for your well-wishes. They are much appreciated.

Enjoy the ride

There comes a time when you have to let go and just enjoy the ride.

It's our final week here in Adelaide. It will be a whirl of tying up loose ends and boxes. Lots of boxes.
We will quickly reach the point of 'if it hasn't been done yet, it's not going to be.'

For this introvert, Wed, Thurs, and Fri will be tiring with strangers in the house packing up all our stuff. Thankfully, a kind soul has lent us a beach house for the weekend, so we can relax before our flight on Monday. I'm looking forward to a final paddle in the sea.

Drawing all the threads together

As the days whizz by towards the end of the month, it finally feels as if all the threads are coming together. My list has been drastically reduced as things are ticked off and - dare I say it - it feels as if I may actually be on top of things.

This page is full of blots and splotches, but there's energy and a bit of order as the strings come together. Feels just like my life at the moment...

On the threshold

For me this page feels like it's full of excitement, but there is also some mystery in there. It wasn't going the way I wanted for a while, but then it blossomed and I'm really happy with it now. I love the mix of colours and the feeling of movement.

I have to admit that it wasn't deliberate - I usually work intuitively, just going with what I feel like doing. This page is a good visual of where I'm at internally because there is excitement and there is mystery as we head back to the UK at the end of the month. My husband is a vicar and we have a new church to go and serve, so there's excitement. There is a house that comes with the post, but we haven't seen it, so there's the mystery.

We will still be in transition until May, when the shipping container with all our belongings arrives. There is excitement and mystery in that, too. Being without all your usual stuff makes you appreciate it when you get it back.

What would you find it difficult to live without for a couple of months?

Signs of spring

Only two weeks to go and it feels like there is finally light at the end of the tunnel. Items are gradually being ticked off the list and the end is in sight.

After pages and pages that all feel like they're all the same because my mind has been a bit distracted, I feel like I'm starting to get my groove back. That's one of the great things about art journalling: it helps you to work things through, even when it takes a while. If you keep going you can be sure you'll get through it eventually.

This page reminds me of spring - the season we're going into in the UK. It's a time for new growth after a time of winter waiting/resting. I'm looking forward to seeing daffodils coming through, to planting a vegetable garden, to growing and blossoming in a new place.

The days are rushing by

Why is it that January seemed to go on forever and now the days are rushing by? It's only a couple of weeks until all our stuff is packed into a shipping container and we don't see them for eight weeks.

I feel like I'm on a hill that's getting progressively steeper as I descend. I'm even dreaming about sliding down slopes and - impossibly - keeping my balance on the sheerest of cliffs. I guess I can take comfort from my nimble footwork: it will all be okay in the end.

Swirling thoughts

As our move gets closer, I find my thoughts swirling around. Items on lists are being crossed off, but have I missed something? Are there other places I need to give our new address to? Have I got hold of all the threads to tie off neatly?

I find my art journal pages consumed with all these thoughts. Sometimes I get bored that all my pages are about the same thing :) But then, an art journal is a place to pour out what's on your mind; a safe place.

I'm looking forward to completing this transition. This liminal space is becoming too familiar.

Ride the wave

My last post talked about when the waves pound you and you just have to wait for them to recede.

Sometimes, though, you're able to get on top of it and ride the wave, letting it take you to the shore.
This page is full of movement and pattern, chaos even, but the wave can carry me over it and deposit me where I need to be.

I just have to ride the wave.