The other night I went to a fundraising event for an organisation called Moorambilla Voices. The group provides access to music and the arts to children of central and western NSW to address the scarcity of such opportunities in these regional and remote areas.
Their aim is no less than to change lives. Through their choral and drumming programs they provide the framework for children to develop as people: their resilience, work ethic, confidence, connection to their communities and, of course, their creative and musical skills.
But it was the mention of the flow-on effect of the program that most stayed with me – the fact that allowing a contributing young person to emerge and can, in turn, raise other people. A positive individual can have a positive effect on a group whether that be a family, a friendship group, a town or region. It is that famous ripple effect. By improving one part, the whole is enhanced.
Of course, I thought of painting. By improving one element of a piece, the entire work is lifted, or at least on the way to being so. Sometimes we look at the whole and tackle that. Sometimes we look at a small element and devote time to it. Both are important – the overall and the detail. They work together but there is no doubt that the success of the small parts makes everything stronger.
Via Moorambilla Voices I am warmed by an image of little seeds of creativity, confidence and contribution spreading and germinating throughout the regions. In turn, I am inspired to give more attention to the corners, the quiet moments, the little announcements, and the subtleties of my canvases. Those parts don’t have to draw all the attention, but their well-roundedness will make the entire painting live.
Until next time,
4 thoughts on “Ripple effect”
Hi Kristen, Carn has just sent your blog link through. Thank you for coming along to our little fundraiser, it was lovely to meet you. Your beautifully articulated words resonate especially as it was your first time hearing about our program. Thank you, talk soon Jxxx
Justine Campbell, are you the Justine who had a pet white mouse as a child? That indeed would be a wild coincidence. If so, hello, hello. If not, Justine your full name spun me back many years to a childhood friend, from along my street. Just seeing your name took me to a place of deep fresh water!
so I’d just finished tinkering with yet another draft (see below) of how thoughts, feelings and perceptions adance action through rippling back and forth, from the initial perceptions of looking and or looking away – Ripple Effect popped into my in box: aah I thought, yes, yes, yes to the seeds of creativity germinating throughout the regions … and those are so, so many, and sooooo far reaching
it’s spring over here, in New Mexico, yet our canvas is parched and cracking with the doubt of drought, with the loss of Daunte Wright and the repeating image of his little son, barely a toddler, daddy-less, and the shootings continuing on, name after name, father, mother, child, the constant toxic incarnation of Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring – when will the collective look, SEE the seeds, and ripples, bumping each other and FEEL the collective rise and fall and interplay, because this water is the color of water? and this air is the color of air?
Moorambilla Voices, you inspire me to reach lower, wider, further within and higher, simply further, because any drops and drips of watery hope, are truly rope, from the wider world, because we all know someone, who knows someone who is getting it done – what? connecting us… which leads me to thanking YOU Kirsten, the life ring at the end of the rope,
so bouyant, and nope,
you never have looked away,
and Everyday Thoughts of an Artist has sway:
: rather you lean into the voids and spaces, giving voice to art processes and inspiration’s journey into new places,
at the pace
from the depth of good,
of shared human parenthood …
both the awkward squirm
of a growing silkworm,
AND the sow’s ear which want’s to become a silk purse
and make it so tenderly plain
that no journey, no insight, no gain;
let us know at the same time that it’s a sure bet
that even the nourishing, life giving milk,
with its luster and feel of silk,
has endless complexities, the ilk
of which is mainly under discovery,
no matter our daddy or mothery
instincts to hush and soothe our babes, and say that it will all be ok,
and at times only these emerging, hard fought connections, are what drives our hidden fears away.
so, my friend, I take a poem title from your lead…
needs & oughts of everyday artist thoughts: :no doubt that the success of the small parts makes everything stronger
latch on before the milks gone t from the nipple of the ripple
why do you look away? keep your gaze:
have you not the strength to stay p your guts raise
eyes engaged? c some good points
and heart to share who you are on the neighborhood stage? and your courage anoints
the spirit to show f others with spirit of strength
that you know s to relax arm’s length,
that it is together, that we must grow? e embracing the sleuth to truth
ps, I’ve really no clue if when I push “post comment” these words above will align, as intended, with mirroring and spacing that makes the least sense at all, but, like learning to skip a stone on water, I must toss to try, so here goes …
apologies – the rock sank, no skip, skip
so, at the end, that was supposed to have been two, literally side by side poems, with a vertical line of text down the middle saying ” the space of see”, kind of like a mirror place delineation, yet what comes back either side is never precisely what’s actually on the other side. Anyway, here are the little poems:
why do you look away?
have you not the strength to stay
and heart to share who you are on the neighborhood stage?
the spirit to show
that you know
that it is together, that we must grow?
keep your gaze:
your guts raise
some good points
and your courage anoints
others with spirit of strength
to relax arm’s length,
embracing the sleuth to truth