Colours flick past the window of the passenger side of my car. I'm soaking in snippets of nature, travelling back from the road as far as the eye can see. Vibrant yellow canola flowers against an indigo sky. Rolling hills in the distance dotted with cows and little trees. Luscious fruit ripening on vast orchards in the blaring sun. Nature puts on a display every time I take a road trip to fruit country.
It wasn't the first time Mia had noticed the light. It had been in her presence a few times before, but only for a second. Then, it was a small pocket of green hue that she didn't think anything of. Presently, she gazed across the vista, observing how it had grown across the billabong into a glowing, misty green haze, hanging mysteriously above the water. She could no longer ignore it.
Ba, bump. Ba, bump. Ba...bump......My heart rate slows and I am totally in the zone. Shut off to the outside world, my noise cancelling headphones protect me from interruptions. I am itching to get going. Ideas swim like colourful, tropical fish around and around in the glass bowl that is my head. A podcast is playing. Check! A freshly brewed, strong coffee is steaming at arms reach. Check! Colourful polymer clay is lined up. Check! My tools are prepared. Check! Hands are at the ready, desperate to make something so I can find release. Hang on! Where is the chocolate? Phew! It's hidden in the creases of the couch. I may desire this later to keep me focused in my happy place. Now, to begin.
I was late to the party of self-confidence. You see, being bullied by my peers from primary school onwards, wore away at my ability to understand my worth. I was told I was talented; a very artistic person. Gregarious, verbose and gifted at many things. This was all fine and good, but the blinds were down and dark clouds filled my brain. Negative self-talk consumed me.
A Childhood in Technicolour
This story is set in a little town, far far away, nestled in the flats of Goulburn Valley. Fruit grows in abundance in Mooroopna, yet no-one seems to know where it is. To me, it is a place where my imagination grew from a seed and my creativity was discovered at its source. My memories of 1970’s country life are like an old reel to reel movie. I flick through each frame, taking myself backwards to a moment that comes to life in full colour. My memories are found in Mooroopna’s streets, its old buildings, the land, the weather and of course my childhood home, which still stands like a palace in its own kingdom. Memories live inside it walls, pulsing vibrantly, the source of everything that makes me, me.