I have a heap to write. Firstly, Anzac day. Haven’t really done anything but it reminded me just before o fan Anzac dawn service that we went to in the Solomons, it must have been 4 years ago. Our motive – the free breakfast, ha! with real bacon and orange juice (luxuries). As it turned out I think I got ham and not bacon.
I can remember being cold, excited and bored all at once. The trumpet – when it was blown funnily enough was the most moving part of the morning. The solemnity of a lone trumpet still gets to me and I’m guessing does the same to most. Mournful, lonely yet hopeful.
We had the breakfast, it was for expats and held at the Yacht club. I had the camera with me and I remember walking out on the tiny jetty and looking at Savo (dormant volcano) and the water. I don’t know if it was that particular morning, or another in the same place but there was this massive blue butterfly – the name escapes me now, just sitting on the water. Beautiful.
I got a photo of that jetty, one which I later painted. It inspires me (now) to go and find the photo, it was a still, calm morning and the absence of people in that image reflects the peaceful nature of my world before it turned upsidedown and erupted with complications: the plans to return to Australia and the intricracies my brain created – all of which got into a ginormous mess and is only now begining to defragment.
God you were there, I remember thanking you.
The second thing, coming across an old journal of mine. But I need to do some more thinking before the words will come, for there is too much – ha, let’s be dramatic and say: dark history. At least a smudge on my twelve year old self that has taken a very long time to heal.