Go gently.

Back in school, when i had decided i no longer cared about grades and such, not because i was too cool... just because i realised that rote learning and regurgitations of thoughts had by every other HSC student before me- would do nothing much to make the world or myself any better... (haha see i was always about the cause and never the effects.) - i spent many hours torturing teachers with profound essays on why i believed i should not be writing the set essay...

Haha one teacher in particular found my one person rebelion frustrating, and devoted much time to half trying to enlist my participation whilst indulging my tendencies to stray from the task at hand.

Once school was over and i scored a respectable enough mark to get into some sort of University Course, she emailed me.. and we exchanged many deep and meaningful talks about the confusions of my existence and her own search for identities. She gave me books to read, artworks that she'd done back in art school, before fear drove her to the safety of teaching.

I rambled as i tend to do, and back in those days the humour was laced with a real and tangible fear of never getting to where i wanted to go- or even ever knowing where that was.

She would always end her responses, with what i imagined would be a sigh and a shake of the head, the same thing she always did when she caught me trawling the halls of Mary Mackillop College, seeking fun and mischief with my camera lens- and these words,

Go Gently.

I thought them pretty and later thought them apt, because she was right. I had a tendency to run screaming and insane into projects and philosophies, frustrated when nothing happened quickly enough, deflated when things would not eventuate as i hoped.

I remember these words every now and then... and they slow me down when my fancies carry me away.

I've written about the stirrings of these thoughts when it comes to THEY & i - the project i said we would start- tomorrow(!?) coz there's no commitment without a date... haha i've thought too much about what we could do in 365 days... how we could make these days amazing.

Then i got carried away - with websites and projects within the project, of grand schemes and master plans... haha then i realised... the point is not to be extravagant but to be glad for all the small things that already make our days miraculous.

I do not need a launch party for tomorrow, no marching band no fireworks. Only our Thursday as they always are... because we will begin with the ordinary pleasures of being just us... and as for the website, my often unappreciated husband is now joyously playing his part. He loves that i am actually promising to do something for he has grown wary of my changes of minds... and gosh so have i. I love that he is not just ignoring it as yet another thing i've started, but now and then would contribute to the extensive list of ideas.

ANyway, for now - They & i will begin here.

And it will be an evolution of things, grand things and marvelous things... i have so many plans, so many ideas... so many insanities that have an excuse to come to light and life.

But for now, we go gently. And introduce ourselves as we are... fantastically ordinary and extraordinarily real.






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Miss Atkins,

I remember the day i came back to school to return the books you leant me, i remember i bought you a sketchbook and a set of pencils, because i thought you must have missed your art and should grow confident in it once more. I bought with me also 20 yellow helium balloons that trailed behind me as i stuck my head in doors looking for you. It made me laugh at how you would fit them into your tiny car... and its probably why i bought them coz it was funny. And i like balloons.

The kids in your class looked at me strangely. But it was the last time i would see you. And not long after that the last time i would hear from you and i remember your last email was full of the promise of bravery and adventure... so we parted ways and words to explore new lives and relationships.

Haha thank you for taking the time to introduce me to all the things you thought would help me, back then i probably didn't appreciate it as i do now. I was young and cocky, self obsessed and embarassingly arrogant.

I hope you have found all that you were looking for, i imagine a story for you that involves quitting english teaching and running off to do something fun and courageous. You were always so uncertain. I hope you explored the world and decided what you wanted from it. And i hope you had fun doing it.

Thank you for The Catcher in the Rye. And Gertrude Stein.

a hip horray To great books, free art and sound advice.

And to Teachers that teach outside of the textbook.