"Waterproof"

"Waterproof" by Dheborah

The symmetry of the photograph of the face is a result of an early stage in the technique I used- as you can see from the hair on the nape of my neck. This piece, illustrated above, is one of my first attempts and was completed today. The mask was painted with photoshop.

...digital ink...

Having been priviledged to have grown up using pens with nibs and ink-wells, my frequent forays into digital art have taught me one thing.... art is to be soaked in, not drowned in.

Dheborah

Grace in the Face of Thunder...

...this photograph was taken on Anzac Day...

Ceremonies are a vital and  intangible link to the structure of the human that we are. We draw on these memories when we experience devastating life-changing events while they give us  the ability to survive. They help create hope in times where it appears to have deserted us. Christmas is both the simplest and one of the most complex ceremonies in our age. Despite the endless scholarly questions that can be raised, it is indeed based on five basic things: the value of the life of every single child; a reason for the need for a national census; joy; inevitability, and the immense effort and determination that people sometimes take to reach their destinations.

A ceremony can be as dedicated as a regular Friday night walk along a river, up to the pub on the hill; it can be as wonderful as getting up at five o'clock every Christmas morning and listening to the story of "The Giant's Garden" each year. The Christmas stocking left on the end of my bed, filled with apricots and plums, a book  and a toy ring in the toe every year will always be the most magnificent stocking…something that lifts me and inspires me.

Wealth will not bring joy - it  is only a tool that is transparent through the eyes of a child. A small tin filled with cheap plastic cars, a story of a poor Victorian child's Christmas, or  a packet of bright  stickers can create the same impression. 'Waiting' for the right day to open the gifts, hidden inside colourful, crackly paper teaches a little patience. 'Finding and giving'  teaches a reluctant child to share. 'Making' a gift or a special meal teaches the small but worthwhile rewards of any effort, no matter how small the effort. 'Celebrating' a day such as Christmas day (don't forget Hanukkah, for example) in whatever respectful way you chose to celebrate it, allows the act of hope…and hope is something internal that every individual and every child needs and deserves. 

View through the eyes of a duckling...

I am unsure whether I actually like all of my concept cards that I am making around the story "Sky for Dolphins". The  typography, in this case, would be suitable for screen printing and other applications but I don't want to scare my neighbour's  kids. My discomfort leads me to leave it alone so I will go back to this at a later stage...possibly to use it with fabric manipulations or as a print across a pocket. The likelihood of something "atypical" or unexpected is much more fun.

Exploring textile surfaces and shapes for "River Guardians"

*Here, I have used an illustration technique that I have learned recently. While developing a design concept, I will gather clippings, small photos, images, tiny sketches of interesting lines and surfaces. From what often becomes a mass of seemingly disconnected information, I run with one or two small items and then refer back to my gatherings. Later, if I create a handful of items, I will finalise them by connecting them with a single thing... a tiny, subtle little thing that creates an invisable link: a link not unlike the invisable umbulical cord between mother and child.

Dheborah

Exploring new colour palettes for "River Guardians"

River Guardian

From "Sky for Dolphins", I started exploratory concept cards. Within these, the bones, I search for shapes and a palette for a garment or a body of garment pieces.

Sky for dolphins

Every morning, towards the end of night-shift, I would see a different sky from the window of the hospital I worked at. One year, a small duck that had lived near the pier, found a mate. I would sometimes notice a group of dolphins  cut through the water and move amongst the yachts, feeding quietly. As though they  recognised certain birds and animals that fed in the area, I remember seeing the largest dolphin sometimes diving beneath the surface for a few minutes and coming up underneath a large pelican, almost playfully, disturbing the resting bird, causing it to ruffle it's feathers indignantly. Another dolphin would follow one of the Sunday morning walkers along the course of the jetty while she walked her Alsation. The large dog would would stop occasionally and the dolphin seemed to slow down and make a few seconds contact...a "dog-dolphin connection".

The newly paired ducks were seen paddling amongst the boats with about sixteen tiny,  ducklings behind them and every morning I would look for them. As they started growing, the ducks let the ducklings swim around the pier in a little group without supervision and the dolphins would dive gently around them. When they ventured too far one day, three pelicans round them up into a "V" and guide them back to their mother. 

The group began to look a little smaller so every day so I began doing  a daily duckling-count. Day by day they were disappearing and, at first, I suspected that the dolphins may have been eating them for breakfast...this wasn't the case. In fact, one Friday morning I saw a small pod of dolphins surrounding the small group of ducklings in a circle and they seemed to be rising out of the water. After a short wait, disbelievingly, I saw a scrappy group of seagulls  attacking the ducklings from the air. As they tried to dive into the ducklings, the dark, majestic dolphins  reared up, preventing them from harming the babies in the water. Since that day, I have always thought of the dolphins as the unspoken guardians of all sea ducklings. 

The Humble Swag...

If you haven't ever owned a "swag", you are never going to miss it but it may be time to consider this sturdy and clever companion.  A swag is a sturdy, lightweight roll-up mattress with a zip-up camouflage canvas that can be thrown on the back of a ute, in the back of a car, and in the luggage section of a bus. Some have flaps for wind shelter; some are waterproof, and some have rope holes for securing to your tent, your car or a tree. The mattress needs an easy to wash cotton cover and many travellers will fit a summer-weight sleeping bag inside as well, but this is not essential. When the weather is a bit wild and wet, small roll-up ground-covers can be bought for about $10 at most large low-priced department stores, to place underneath. They are more expensive than a simple sleeping bag but are a  life saving investment when camping on someone's floor, sharing a room or "roughing it" outside. Seasoned Australian  travellers have been known to have custom - built double swags for the back of their utilities and use them year-round. Most Australian camping shops will stock them but if you are in Perth, the Army Surplus store has a good range and will usually have a few in both khaki and black canvas.


Swags are not just for campers…I have used mine when I have stayed over at friend's places when I've known that they are going to have large gatherings. They can be used on top of a linenless single bed and when  you'll want a few hours sleep before driving home at dawn. One New Year's Eve, it fitted easily into a small borrowed tent and I was able to sleep outdoors next to a stream instead of in the cab of my small truck.  It means one less bed or stretcher that the host has to worry about and it's yours. In summer, sleeping outside on the back of my ute in a sheltered spot on someone's block can only be described as blissful. 



 If you can afford it, go for a heavy duty, high quality swag. Prices can be as high as A$600. When you are not using it, your swag can be left rolled up and used to sit on. It will be a place to rest your head when you are sick of the heat and you are sick of the flies.

Beautiful, deadly little things...Australian Red Back spiders

The bite of an Australian Red Back spider won't usually kill you but the unbearable, sickening pain will often last for hours. Most victims will remember briefly noticing a tiny, shiny bead-like black spider  vanishing moments before the pain set in. They drop off postal sacks; they run over suitcases;  they hang, suspended behind television sets.  It's  characteristic vivid post-box red back - stripe on a  small, glossy body is the only warning you will get. The bite may simply make you feel a little unwell for half an hour and leave a terribly itchy, sometimes lightly blistered patch on the site. If it is unusually large, you may experience an overwhelming urge to just lie down and die. Relentless, unforgiving pain, slight nausea, a slight sweat and a high pulse are common symptoms. If the pain does not settle within an hour, you may face hours of agony at the site of the bite. 

Most rural nursing posts and hospitals keep Red-Back anti-venom. A doctor familiar with the symptoms can insert an intravenous bung and have an infusion of anti-venom running fairly quickly. The pain and any symptoms usually settle rapidly. In cases that I have seen, the pain has almost settled by the time the small infusion has completed and this can only be compared to heaven if you have suffered up to eight hours of agony from a previous bite. 

One of my patients told me of how he had been discharged from a hospital following a bite from an unfamiliarly large Red Back while working up North. Six hours after the event, he experienced ascending (slowly travelling up from the place of the bite to his respiratory muscles) paralysis and made a brush with death when he was unable to breath. Getting back to an emergency centre at the onset of the secondary set of symptoms can account for his survival. 

Red Backs love quiet spots like shed roof corners but they get inside homes and fence crevices and really, if you think about it…they don't have ethics or a conscience, so if they are there, there is always a danger of being bitten by this beautiful, deadly little  thing. If you are small enough and it is mature enough...remember....death is it's only intention.

Photograph: Young wild kangaroo.

This is a photo taken years ago on a small Fugi camera while on my way to a friend's bush wedding in Western Australia..

*the pixallation is from scanning the original photograph

If you ever considered becoming a blood donor...

Wildflower garment: five of us (students at W.A.S.A.D) did this as a group piece in 2003 for a one week outdoor exhibition at King's Park in Perth. The garment was constructed from tiny pieces removed from branches and Australian spring wild flowers. At the time, I thought it rather lovely and serene.

BECOMING A BLOOD DONOR

I have been donating blood since I was eighteen years old. The older nursing students came into the student nurses tea lounge and told us to go and have a look. As it was classed as our first visit, a simple blood test was done and a few weeks later our cards arrived with our blood groups on them. From then onwards, as we were now classed as "blood donors", it was simply a matter of  just going in to the next clinic (buses used to go to all the hospitals and clinics were set up). 

When I went flatting, the donor clinic was a 5 minute walk away. Every 12 weeks, a friend of mine and myself would walk over and give a pack of red cells. We never had any difficulty remembering in those days- it was usually when we were hungry. While the blood was filling up the bag on the side of the electronic chair, we would eat a plate of sandwiches, some cheese and crackers, some sweet biscuits and a cup of coffee or juice. As we were young, we had no problem accepting a second serving of anything that was offered. I only felt faint on one occasion. That was a few meters from the front door and my two 'Alternative' friends sat on the path with me until I had recovered. We just looked like a couple of punks hanging out on the pavement...except my blood pressure had nearly rendered me unconscious.

Before I went today, I had nearly ten glasses of fluids and six eggs for breakfast. I felt really good! Once at the blood donation centre, I completed a check-list and attended a brief consultation in an interview room. After a finger prick for my Hb (haemoglobin), a blood pressure reading and a final check that I hadn't been to Papua New Guinea, I was taken to the blood taking room. No more than about five people are bled at one time, each with their own nurse. With a soft foam ball in my hand to squeeze occasionally, the needle was taped and I could watch T.V quietly or listen to the patient next to me chat to one of the nurses while my blood filled the bag. This part only takes about 10-15 minutes. Once my nurse was happy that all was well and I hadn't passed out or felt unwell, I was allowed to go to the waiting area. Here, a tray with a warm cup of coffee was brought to me and I enjoyed a chocolate muffin (apparently, dark chocolate helps you keep your Haemoglobin up) and read today's newspaper. 

I can only say that it is usually a pleasant and peaceful experience. The blood products are used for post-operative blood transfusions, for burns and for emergency trauma. For the price of having  to sit and have a drink with a chocolate muffin, it is an easy commitment: a commitment that is exchanged for saving a couple of lives.

Budget for dreamers

What to do when you are broke and don't know what to do...

If you have to flip over every 5o cents a hundred times before you spend it, then practice  teaching yourself a few basic habits. Most people have been poor at some time in their lives. I have slept on a  wooden floor in a room with no curtains in a flat, with no fridge or stove, and no money. It has taught me survival skills that I cannot do without. Don't fall into depression because you are broke. Be smart- it is sometimes a matter of knowing what to do and staying honest that matters the most.

• When you get paid, pay your rent first…always. Look for the cheapest, the smallest and the safest place to rent. Don't worry too much about space when you are starting out. Use it as an opportunity to get yourself set up for something nicer, later. Really, your friends won't care if you use boxes for furniture. 
• Practice different ways of budgeting if you haven't learned how to do this. Some people start out putting a small amount into envelopes and keeping them for bills and essentials. Plan to have a tiny amount of spending money and don't spend it if you don't need to. The mistake people make when they are used to being broke is spending every cent in a few moments as soon as they get some: really, when you put some thought to it, would you walk around a shopping centre and just throw your money at anyone that looks at you then go home? No. 
• Spend a bit longer looking at shelves when you are shopping for food. Larger supermarkets often keep lower priced items on the lower shelves. Cheap bread can be frozen. Trays of chicken wings and legs are often cheap and can  be divided up into 4 or 5 packets and frozen. Bags of apples and bags of carrots are usually very cheap. When you see macaroni and rice on special, get a couple of packets. Forget the biscuits and forget the confectionary section.  

Many large food stores will sell some of their fresh vegetables cheap after 4.30 , especially if it is the day before a public holiday. Remember…rich people also buy "no-mame brands". Things like no name brand serviettes cost about a dollar; no one is going to worry about your tissue box; items like rice, bread, sugar and nappy soak are often much cheaper. You can empty them into other containers when you get home and no-one will know or care. The trick is to spread your dollar as far as it will go. New home owners, travellers and multi-millionaires do this all the time. 

• Stay away from booze and smokes….they are going to make you poor and they are going to make you sick. They can go on your lists when finances are better. When you can afford it, instead of more expensive cans,  a large bottle of beer is about $1.50 and can be kept in your fridge.  
• When making meals, let your food "go the distance". Noodles, rice, potatoes, bread: any of these will make food for one into food for five. 
• Let your family and friend's mothers know that you'll accept furniture and kitchen containers as donations if you are just starting out. There will be someone who would love to give them to you.
• If you don't have furniture, make your own cushions and cushion covers…big ones, small ones, it won't matter. A couple of giant cushions are great. Hunt for cheap fabric (remember, brightly coloured lining is often aound $3.00p/m and some cottons are often quite cheap). Calico (we used to ask for"K-sheeting") is raw cotton: this can be used for anything, including curtains. It usually costs anything from $1.99 to $5.00. If you don't have a sewing machine, just hand sew them at home while you are sorting out your budget. K-mart and Big W have small, cheap cushion inserts at about $1.80. Experiment and you'll be inspired.
•  Look in old second hand shops: a Burmese friend of mine bargains and somehow always gets a couple of dollars off. Sunday morning car-park marts or "Swap-meets" are sensational. They have treasures for a couple of dollars…I have come home with silver goblets and wooden bowls for a pittance. You may be able to source old sari fabric, curtains, wooden boxes, ornaments and small tables. Make an offer: often the sellers just want to make a sale; they don't want to pack up thousands of things when they are leaving.
• Ask a friend if they've got yesterday's paper. Read the news and look for events that have free entry. Most libraries have a newspaper room. Night clubs advertise what time entry is free and there are many, many free art moments.
• You don't need to go to Gym to get fit. Walking up every flight of stairs is a great cardiovascular work-out; telephone books and small, heavy items can be used for resistance training if you want defined arms. 
•  Have a list of 'things to do when I am broke and bored'.  Make things. It keeps you smart... Build a ship from matches or grow some little succulents from cuttings and then use them later for a cool centre piece on a box in your lounge. Get someone to paint a Toucan or an exotic butterfly on your lounge wall. 
• If you are starving and it is 2 days until pay-day, remember…make a huge bowl of salty popcorn. It is really cheap and filling.and it will always make you feel better when you are broke.

Day 4: Tasmanian Devils on the Run....

On Tuesday, Genghis, Scratchy and Itchy, three baby Tasmanian Devils,  managed to break out of Peel Zoo, not far from Perth. Inside, I have been cheering them on. This is a true test of survival. Tasmanian Devils, one of Australia's rare and endangered species, are faced with extinction in our harsh but fragile environment. This little trio are, however, still babies and the perils of a major highway, where kangaroos, boar and other wildlife have perished, is only a single factor in their chances of staying alive in the wild. 


News report:

http://www.perthnow.com.au/news/western-australia/three-tassie-devils-on-the-loose-from-peel-zoo-near-mandurah/story-e6frg13u-1226498579759



* All three babies have now been recaptured: on three different days, in three different places...two of them in late night escapades.  Scratchie chewed up a bathroom wall; Itchy escaped an animal cage ; while Genghis returned a little skinnier and  a little bit wiser after a little bit of rain and a lovely, sunny day on a golf course.

CPR 5:1

5:1

 One day while working on the ward of an Australian country hospital (Collie), I heard a man calling for a nurse from the Accident and Emergency area. I walked out into the corridor and saw a man, clinging to the limp, pale body of a lifeless child. When I reached him, I took the child and hit the 'cardiac arrest' button. Between giving the child mouth-to-mouth breaths while walking quickly, I indicated for the father to follow me and I said to the nurse that had run down, "Call the doctor and tell him I am resuscitating a little boy". As soon as we reached  the examination room and I had placed him carefully on the bed,  I began CPR on the child. Another nurse came and we did what we had practised after lunch every Friday with Sylvia. 

The seven year old boy finally took a few quivery, weak  breaths and made a small movement after what seemed like an eternity but was probably a  long, tense twenty minutes or so. In the background, the distressed mother had told us that they had been enjoying a day at the Collie River and the kids were swimming while the adults relaxed after  lunch with a few drinks. She was in tears, distraught and preparing for the worst. When I told her that he had started breathing, she could hardly speak with emotion while we  had to concentrate on our job and  bite back tears of relief. She pointed out a  stranger, a dark haired man in his early thirties, who was in the waiting room. After hearing the alarmed parents calling for assistance, he had  had started mouth to mouth resuscitation out on the river-side without any hesitation. His face  looked tired and fearful.

The mother kept thanking us profusely for saving her son but  I remember thinking how scared they must have been. We had been scared too- not of the resuscitation but how to deal with failing to save him. If my whole career was based on saving a single  life: I wouldn't have that career if it wasn't for the many strangers that  had done exactly what he had done that beautiful, calm summer's afternoon, amongst people he had never met before, and in the most awful of circumstances. When the doctor had decided that the child was stable enough to go to the ward for observation, I was finally able to go out into the waiting room,  where the stranger was sitting on his own. I remember standing in front of him saying to the boy's mother, "We weren't the ones that saved your son….this man here saved him." Then I went home and cried and resolved never, ever to go through that again. 

We did go through that again but in more awful circumstances. A few months later, a car pulled up in front of the hospital and a distressed fourteen year old boy ran in saying that a tree had fallen on his father, crushing his chest. Somehow he had got his father from under the tree and into the back of the car. This would have been bad enough if four men had tried. Distraught, he ran somewhere in grief, to be alone...away from the hell that kept unfolding.  With Keith Meadows' help, a local G.P, I managed to climb in through the window and unlock the door so we could pull the boy's  father out of the back seat of the car. I started CPR while we pulled him onto a stretcher and ran in to A & E with him. I vaguely remember the weight of one of the wheels as someone drove the trolley over my foot while we were still running. After a long and difficult attempt at saving the man, we finally called for all to stop. That was a terrible day and that was one life we were not able to save. If my whole career was based on one single life: I wouldn't have that career if it wasn't for the boy that brought his young father  in so that we could try, at least, to save him.

If you are lucky enough to visit Alice (Alice Springs).

A few years ago, I was delighted to find some beautiful bars of Russian chocolates in a twenty-four hour shop in Claremont, Perth. Unlike the sweetness of Australian chocolate or the fineness of French chocolate, I was touched  by the beauty of the magnificent full-sailed ship pictured on the paper it was encased in. 

Some years ago, Andie, our one and only astronaut, didn't fit into his suit when the time came to return to our humble planet. After clever negotiation, the Americans were able to extend a government contract with the Australians and Andie was fitted with a new suit. If you are lucky enough to visit Alice Springs, you may be privileged to discover the reason behind the deal. If you are anything like me, however, you might consider hiding your photos under your house for a couple of years.

If you do travel to "Alice", there are many things you can arrange before you get there: this includes chopper flights across Uluru, transport and accommodation. One of the most wonderful things that you could do, though, is go ballooning one day. This time of the year is ideal. You will get picked up at about 4:00 o'clock in the morning in a small bus before,  out in the desert, in the dark, you find yourself unfurling equipment off the back of trucks. The sound of flames shooting across before you and the feeling of smallness as, one by one, the balloons drift off next to you into the cool, painted sky will grace you. When you get back, you will repay the ferryman by packing and folding the blood red coloured balloons up in the sticky, sweltering, unforgiving heat. 

The only thing that I can equate this journey to is a ride on a tall, majestic sailed ship, like the one on the chocolate I once found. It is quite likely, you will never have the chance to do it again. Be scared...be very, very scared.

Places to Eat that are Open on Sundays in Perth...

Fashion illustration: little painted "cut-out"

by dheborah

There is nothing nicer than finding your own special places to eat out at on a Sunday. However, if you don't know Perth, here  are a few places worthy of a visit. If you have got a car, or can walk  to City Beach, the Pearl River Chinese Restaurant (14 St.Kilpa Court, City Beach, off Hale Road) is open on Sundays from 5 pm until 9.30 pm. Meals average about A$15.00. Sit down or take-away. 

If you want to try something very simple and very cheap, 'The Sparrow' is an indonesian restaurant where meals can cost as little as A$5.00. You will find them in Highgate, at 301 Lord Street. This will take a long walk or a  short taxi ride from the city. They are open from 5-8.30 on Mondays.

Matilda Bay Restaurant, 3 Hackett Drive (very close to the University of W.A) is gorgeous. Two people can share a bottle of wine and have a plate of the best fish and chips for around A$150.00. They are open on Sundays for lunch and dinner, until late. 

Not too far away, is Jo Jo's Cafe, which is open on Sundays from 12pm until 4 pm. Here you can enjoy a coffee and cheesecake and just solve the problems of the world with the water lapping by your feet. Set on a little wooden pier, the walk is worth seeking this out, if you haven't discovered it yet. It is small and simply lovely.

If you ever get to the Moon, a late night cafe tucked away in Northbridge, it is  open from 11 am until 1 am on Sundays and 6.oo pm until 1.am on Mondays.. .their pastas are cheap and so is their wine. No-one is going to tell you how to find this cupboard-sized cafe but it has legend status.

The Dog in the Sock

*...a hospital story

Some people cry at funerals. I cry when I'm tired. I never cry if I haven't slept after being at a nightclub until five in the morning. I did cry yesterday. 

This week, I lost two days of valuable study time doing long ambulance runs with two major medical emergencies. I  somehow, got a large assignment (Eastern Australian Standard time takes two hours off my submission times) in for a  post-graduate university certificate that I am studying for. After a four hour drive home and three hours sleep, my journey on a busy city freeway was unbearable. When I reached the classroom at Sir Charles Gardiner Hospital, on the eigth floor, I found a room full of registrars signing in and eating hot pastries and spring rolls. A helpful intern informed me that this was not the Advanced Life Support Class. At this point, I should have stood back, eaten a couple of sausage rolls and collected my thoughts. I didn't. Instead, I began the long walk back to Reception and thought about a dog in a sock.

A few weeks ago, I had respectfully discussed "after-life requests" with a new elderly resident in the aged care wing of a rural hospital. For years, she had kept the ashes of her beloved dog ,'Toby" in a stocking so that their ashes  could be buried together behind a plaque in the wall at the cemetery in Kalamunda Road. As I walked back to E-Block, looking for a way to get to the first floor, I ran through a few beautiful burial places that appealed to me. I wasn't too fond of the idea of keeping a dog in a stocking. The notion of my body being buried in a tomb on an island in a lake, like Diana, appealed to me in a way. 

Unable to find a way of getting to the first floor, I got my car keys ready and headed for the hospital reception. On one side, was a lady who pretended that I wasn't there while she chatted to a friend on the phone. On the other side was a lady sitting behind a glass wall which sported a sign which stated, "Stand away from the glass so we can hear you better". I did. I stood back from the glass window and then she also  pretended that I wasn't there. Finally, I leaned forward and I asked her how to get to the first floor. Attempting to keep my voice composed while I tried not to cry, I had to explain that the room in the letter, which she took from me, was not being used for an  ALS class and that I needed to get to the first floor. It went a little bit like this:

"No…there is a room full of doctors and lots of plates of sausage rolls; apparently there is no ALS class there and I have to go to E-block. I need to get to the first floor. I am tired and I have only had three hours sleep." She replied, "You need to go to G-block. It's on the eighth floor," "No, there are only doctors there…and lots of sausage rolls," I replied politely."You are early, that's where you are meant to go," she said. "No, the sign on the door said to go to E-block on the first floor," I replied. "Where exactly were you?" she asked. "I was in a room that had lots of sausage rolls. Lots of sausage rolls….lots of doctors …..and no nurses," I stressed."It must have been that room," she argued. "No, it wasn't the room with the sausage rolls. How do I get to the first floor?," I answered. At this point, I started crying and had to turn away and blow my nose. "God help me if I'd been dying!" I said.

Eventually, after a long, meandering trip through a maze of hospital corridors, I got to my class and spent the day doing Advance Life Support with a group of  nurses and two doctors- wonderful, inspiring and enthusiastic people who will one day, hopefully, save you from the grave. They gave us biscuits….one measly packet of tasteless, dry biscuits.

When I do die one day, I would like to die on an island I have been to in the Solomon Islands. Not the one in Figi, where the man with the rough, traditional facial tattoos sat down on the deserted white-sand beach and talked to me while stabbing his coconut machete into the sand, but the one where I saw the chanting boys row past in a wooden boat with a sail made from flowers when they were on their way to collect a nervous groom's  bride. When June, the old lady I mentioned earlier,  passes away one day, please don't forget her instructions for the dog in the sock.

Chicken treatment

garment and textiles by dheborah

I shared a house with one of the local doctors while living in a small mining town in my first few years in Australia. One of his chickens became worryingly ill and simply stopped walking.  The other chickens bullied her and pecked at her constantly. Someone at work advised me to try red cordial so I asked my house-mate to get me a large bottle of red cordial and I tried it.

 Each morning, I would walk up the orchard hill with the chicken under my arm and place  her in the shade under one of the apricot trees  with a large bowl of cool  raspberry cordial. I would then collect the chicken in the evening, sometimes in the dark,  and carry it down the hill with a bucket of chicken feed. The others would follow me down the hill  and settle for the night in their boxes. The sick chicken began to improve after about eight or nine days  and she was soon able to amble up the hill herself.  From then onwards, every day I would find a small brown egg in her nest box.  

Whether it  is true that red cordial is great for sick chickens…I don't know… I never asked her and she never told me. For the mere price of a bottle of red cordial, we always had her beautiful eggs in the fridge. She didn't  die of old age, though - a few year's later, the owner came home from work to find that a neighbour's dog had spent the afternoon chasing and tearing up the chickens into bloody, feathery pieces ... none survived. 

Sharks don't eat flowers.

Textile by dheborah.

A dyed piece of dupion silk with hand brushed lines and screen-printing.

*dupion silk is a beautiful, imperfect  fabric woven from threads spun from the cocoons of  two silk moths. 

Alien Life Forms. Historical Mars Landing

Friday 09 August 2012:  3:00pm Western Australia. New picture released by NASA: Photograph compiled from multiple images taken by the vehicle "Curiosity," released today (taken on 08.08.2012 early a.m EDT time). Like a Norman Lindsay photo developed from a glass plate, this will one day be a glimpse of the past and a footprint for the future.

Australia 06/08/2012. 08:10. NASA will be attempting a Mars landing in five hours and twenty minutes.

Australia 06/08/2012. Added at 13:51 Western Australian time: Nasa has landed "Curiosity" on Mars a few minutes ago.

*EDT= Eastern Daylight time in the USA.  08:00 EDT = 8:00pm in Perth.

http://mars.jpl.nasa.gov/msl/

http://www.news.com.au/breaking-news/world/nasas-curiosity-rover-lands-on-mars/story-e6frfkui-1226444082058

Haitian Nurses Scrubs.

Member No. 33: 2012.

Ordering uniforms when you work for the government can sometimes be a real test of patience. We used to have "uniform rooms" (in the dark ages) but now we fax request forms a few hundred kilometres or make computer orders to a "non-person". My prescribed shirts did arrive  but two years later, I am still awaiting two pairs of trousers and some culottes. 

In the meantime, my bum is threatening to get bigger. How big do they want my bum to get? I recently ordered two navy blue theatre scrubs ( from "WonderWinks" scrubs) on ebay, via a seller called the "enchanted butterfly". They have neat, hidden little pockets and pen loops inside.  A week and a half later, two beautiful uniforms arrived from Haiti. That country has had to deal with poverty and is still recovering from a devastating  natural disaster. They have managed to get them to me in ten days, despite being on the other side of the planet.  Haiti, I love you.


*(Someone asked me what I am wearing...it is a digital Mucha print from Thailand).

Fashion Illustration: Lane

Illustration by Dheborah

To serve or be a servant (for anyone that ever ordered raccoon soup at Fat Franks)

Photograph taken by Andrew.

I never knew the difference between 'being a servant' or 'to serve' until a Malaysian king said the words, "I would like some cheese."

"Cheese?" "You have got to be joking, " I said in disbelief. "I haven't got the keys to the kitchen. Where the hell am I going to get some cheese from?"

I was there to serve, but I wasn't his servant. I couldn't get the cheese and I felt particularly  uncomfortable saying, "Your Highness," so I said, "Sir, I can't find any cheese." If I was anywhere close to being a decent servant, I would have found some cheese and said, "Your Highness, your cheese." A good servant would have known this.

England II : Canals in the beautiful city of Bath.

England I : Roman baths as reconstructed by the Victorians in Bath.

Photos of Dublin ( from the street 05) : St Patrick's Day

Irish Joanne and my friend Gary, a freelance sound-man that works with the Natural History department for the BBC, in the foreground.

Australian Zebra Finches

Trials of themed prints from charcoal drawings screenprinted over Erte.

dheborah

Zebra Finches (Taeniopygia Guttata) are found wild in the central regions of Australia. They eat small seeds and one of their favoured foods is millet. They are used to large, busy flocks and fly large distances. As pets, in small cages they will be found hopping from perch to perch, almost pacing: Boredom and monotony. As for all birds, keep the small bird cages for transporting them only.

Their colouring is varied and sometimes quite vivid. The male Zebra Finch has a deep red beak and bold coloured orange circles (side-burns). The females have an orange beak and may have side-burns but they will be softer or just a tiny stripe on either side of their beak. Two males can live together reasonably well but one may dominate a little and peck at the other occasionally. Both boredom and mites can cause the birds to pull out their own feathers. A white towel or sheet will attract the mites but must be washed daily.

If you ever wish to see a piece of architechtural genius, almost like an art instillation itself, allow the birds to make their own nest. They don't necessarily need to be mates. Breeders are inclined to use boxes or a ready made wicker nest. Birds have nest-making in their genetic make-up: they are better at making an amazing nest than humans, just believe me.

Try placing a large handful of shredded paper on the bottom of the cage in the evening as they are settling in. They will study it for hours. I did this a few days ago. By the second evening, one of the finches had cautiously started assembling pieces up in the highest corner of the cage, across two perches.By that evening the two birds had made a mountain of paper up one side of the cage.

The following afternoon, two fabulous birds were attempting different flying manouvres and they constructed a beautiful masterpiece of a nest with a curtain of paper threads to also sit beneath. On a final note, I do believe  that all birds should be left in the wild. No bird could possibly love a cage.

This is one of the few portraits I have done where the model has clothing on. Simon is a great friend of mine and a good friend of a past beau. This charcoal piece was drawn while I was cooking a roast, the night before he moved into his new place. It is a reasonable likeness, considering that he had reversed into my little silver car and bent the front fender only a few days before. It has now been some time since we have had any contact…..I think because I had the audacity to ask if he "still hung out with midgets". I felt that his new (and rather height restricted) girlfriend had been a little rude. Simon is a handsome, athletic man and I rather liked him… he just liked putting his pencil in too many pencil cases. I should have known that a remark like that would severely stretch a friendship. Simon, who had  shared his Morton Bay bugs with me at the 'Red Orchid', didn't speak to me  for over a week when I did him a favour once by putting his washing in the tumble-dryer and shrunk his underpants. All of them. I said...and will say again.... I was really, really sorry. 

Models : Dancers from the School of Performing Arts

Photographer : ( I have to check with Mladenka or Sophia)

Garments by Dheborah

  ( Shown at the West Australian School of Art, Design and Media. I made this shortly after returning from the Solomon Islands with a medical team. The airport had been occupied by Soldiers from Pacific nations and there had been recent fighting).

Model : Lindi Biezen

Photograph by Dominic Cuda Photography

Garment by Dheborah ( Shown at the Australian Masters of Fashion - the colour is listed incorrectly as I hadn't made it when I submitted the garment. entry I sewed this on the plane after night-shift and again in the hotel dining room. Beneath the light exterior was a heavy layer of scattered mint and silver beading which no-one but the wearer knew ).

Model : Bianca

Photograph by Dominic Cuda Photography

Garment by Dheborah ( shown at the Crown Casino at the Australian Fashion Design Awards. I sewed the panels down for their journey - the dress actually opens out and is a moving piece but was never shown so ).

Model : Nikki

Photograph by Tony Vu Le

Rococco garment by Dheborah ( the back of the dress was covered in butterflies; panels down the side with silver thread; asymetrical top; ribbon details).

Model : Charmaine

Photograph by Tony Vu Le

Garment by Dheborah

Fashion Illustration : dude

Illustration by Dheborah