Walking with Cello With My Mountain Climbing Sticks with Cezanne and Zola in My Heart

Thank you, Dovey and Libby, for Capturing Cello and Me in Action, March 2016

     Walking the Anglesea beaches in the early winter days of April here, with stratas of time watching the finite way of an old woman, so happy with the possibility once again of walking, with the Antarctic Sea bathing the shore with its cold and so unknown waters. Grateful to the thin strong walking sticks that give me the security to step out, that keep me anchored in the firm sands. Walking without the fear of falling is like running with the wind for me. If like me, you have fallen several times and fear it happening again, try these supports that breath adventure. I walk mountains, flat mountains, but always stunning new terrains, even in my home.

Today I turned over the 9 boxes of the Australian Jewish Democratic Society, the oldest progressive Jewish group in Australia. that I had prepared for their lives as an archival source to Sivan and Larry. Here on these new shores I have used my LHA honed grassroots archives skills for three collections: that of the first published Yiddish poet here in Australia, Pinchus Goldhar; the AJDS collection going back to the 1980s and the Women in Black Melbourne Archives, to be given, hopefully, to the  State Library. The day closed with meeting wonderful young scholars and activists, Max and Jordy. All expressions of the other Jewish community,the anti occupation Jewish voices. My time here has been enriched by these pieces of paper bearing testimonies of persistent struggles against Fascism. All kinds of histories hold me up here, of the land and of the  inclusive human spirit struggling for change.

Reading all I can about the friendship between Cezanne and Zola, their comradeship of the exiled. I have an opera in mind--The Home of the Refused. Vastness of thought, of how to counter the growing violence, on the streets, in the human heart, the unacceptable once again exploding into our social worlds. The bohemian spirit grows in its tenderness amidst struggle and its dedication to telling human stories.

Vastness of My Vistas Here, Now. The Mermaid Pool, a Swimming Spot Formed by the Tides