We hope to stumble across you one day again.
We hope to stumble across you one day again.
We had a few technology hiccups, then got busy on other things.
And so we apologise for writing this post almost a month after it happenned.
Another two days at Summersalt. By the river.
Surrounded by cricketing fans unerring on their path.
Despite waves and smiles.
It was the couples walking against the swarm that stopped.
Hand in hand.
Sharing their aMoment.
A group of four girls were very inquisitive.
Three sat and chatted and laughed in the shade of the tree.
While one was brave and ventured inside.
“She can tell us what it’s all about afterwards” they told me …
And the couples continued….
“Make sure he does it too” we were instructed via whisper.
A mother and daughter wearing beautiful skirts.
A woman pondering under a tree post-amoment gracefully laughed when she realised she’d become the object of a clown troupe’s attention.
And lastly, a Dad with big lace up boots and his bright eyed, golden haired children. They emerged, unfolding their limbs and smiling their smiles thanking us.
“my wife would love this”
Happy Valentines Day little caravan.
And then the 21st:
A lady from Chile who is becoming a citizen.
A woman with a paua she plans to necklace.
Patchwork boots belonging to a friend.
A lady with a blue top who likes wild art.
Leggings with records on them.
A big back pack belonging to a man who told us as a child he tried to play the drums, but it wasn’t his forte…
And then it rained.
Poured really. For a while.
Its the first time in two years we’ve had rain beyond a spit.
We’ve been pretty lucky that way.
But we did learn our tarp is a gem!
“its funny how there is a common theme in the notes about happiness and love for the future, and that we forget that in our day to day…”
“That’s just what I needed” as a lady stopped on her way to work.
“I wish I’d done this earlier so that I could have told my friends”
Until next time, world.
See you again soon.
And out into 2015 we begin.
In Southbank. Where we started, actually.
It’s been 2.5 years since the caravan had it’s first outing.
I am no longer 28 actually.
But I like that this work has frozen me and this moment in time.
And it still resonates.
Tears were plentiful this weekend.
“I haven’t been to that part of myself for years”
Sitting across from a Rhino on Saturday.
Along the river on Sunday.
A three year old runs around the caravan two, three times.
While his dad tries to imagine him at age 23.
Some stumble across us.
Few are brave.
“Will the caravan exist in 20 years?” an 8 year old who would be 28 asked.
We hope we are.
We hope indeed.
you can catch us over the next couple of weekends at Summersalt Festival too.
Lots of little shoes, as we shared with families.
A bit slow to start, but then full-full as the day progressed.
Many dads wanting to talk about the work.
“It’s about stopping, isn’t it?”
“The future is big. And, well, scary.”
“My wife will love this. I’ll go find her.”
“That was beautiful. So special.”
There was also silence as people left.
And grinning teeth.
And little heads peeking in and out.
Word of mouth spread a little.
And many little ones found an adult so that they could go inside.
And towards the end a child with a perfect t-shirt visited.
On our breaks we wandered around and had out own moments under trees, watching lambs or eating well.
Thanks Edendale for having us.
It was a pleasure!
The caravan had a little pre-Spring outing to Windsor as part of Glow Festival.
Amidst the juice shops, circus acts & busy-ness we were tucked in Victoria St.
We were lucky to be there the two most summery days of winter.
Waving at hundreds of car drivers as they passed by – we were well-pointed and smiled at.
But, of course, it’s the ones that stop that provide the best moments for us.
A woman with blonde hair and a bouncy energy was our first visitor. Yellow tights and a bright smile she glowed as she came out.
Two best friends of about 10 decided they wanted to do it & snuck in while their carer was on the phone. (clever!)
But it was their carer who had tears welling when she got her chance.
Mickey and some bear ears waited outside.
A man meandering on his own entered and exited with little words, but appeared later with a hand-folded paper plane for us…his inner child woken…?
A small child with deep dark brown eyes that peered at our mask with wonder.
Two ladies that stumbled across us & were particularly moved. Tears and hugs a-plenty.
Day two was particularly sunny.
A few friends popped by. One had to stop clicking, another had to stash his skateboard.
A couple who had been told by their teenage son Chapel St wasn’t a place for them to hang out. We had a good giggle at that.
A 20-something man who’d ummed and ahhed about going in. Then did and the smile he had afterwards blew us away.
A man of 27 from Belgium who sat and spoke for a-while. We mused on our careers (he – a pianist) and which paths to take.
And dogs. Lots of dogs.
We learnt Windsor has lots of dogs.
It spat with rain and we used our umbrellas for the first time.
It reminded us how old our caravan now is. Almost 2.
A tenth of 20 years has passed…
But, I’m not sure if we’ll ever get sick of sharing Drop #6 with new people…
Maybe you don’t know this, but we welcome others to do drops.
Sarah made some beautiful teacups filled with natives.
Have a little looksy at the facebook page to see people’s finds and comments. I think she made quite a few people quite happy….
aMoment passed on.
The caravan was born in a studio now demolished in Brunswick.
Salvaged wood from hard rubbish.
And the collection of white strewed on its streets & within our homes.
So. Glad we were to share it here.
It began playing with a child of about six. We mimicked each other and high fived before his tram arrived.
Our first guest was a snowpea.
And our second a tomato.
Then some adult and child pairs. The child dragging their parent inside.
One six yr old we know announced the caravan wasn’t very good, not big enough!
We agreed to let her design the next.
We received more waves from those safe in cars at the red light. I think they took the most photos too.
A women saw us from afar and made her way to us. I think she needed us today. She left with a heavy heart and hug. She was thinking of her niece…
A deep-thinking friend came. And my heart warmed.
A man decided to give me a spare akubra he had. I’m not sure why.
Four women stopped. Giggles and shyness, I think they were surprised the most. Delighted even.
I’m glad they stopped.
All in all most we’re pretty quiet as they came and went. I missed the natter of coburg and glenroy. It reminded me of the importance of slowing down and being. Which is what aMoment is all about…
We had to cancel Saturday due to the rainy rain.
But, boy, did we luck-in with the sunshine on Monday!
And, boy, didn’t Glenroy’s people charm us!
Before the caravan was even set up, there were people buzzying around wanting to get in.
Two women in burkhas were our first visitors.
The first woman was particularly moved. “God bless” she said as she left…
We knew from then on it was going to be a special day.
Then a woman on a bicycle decided to be late in favour of having a moment.
(hooray we said to ourselves)
She, a talker, told us her daughter studied circus and was now a hypnotherapist.
She also uttered the words “not on this earth” while listening to the first track…
3 quiet children, 9, 10 & 13ish.
Home schooled & insightful. All responding with “that was awesome!” in chorus.
Then more children.
Alone and in pairs.
All very independent and their eyes a little wider as they left.
A 7yr old, who I’d misjudged & thought was older, revealed to me that she couldn’t read or write. Within the caravan I sat with her, reading the words of others & being her scribe.
She gave me my own moment, she did.
A man needed much persuasion to enter, then stayed within the longest of anyone.
His friend didn’t enter but we talked about travel and our favourite cities.
“I want to go to Paris. No one doesn’t like Paris,” he said.
A man from Vietnam wearing painting gear and blundstones exited & shook his head:
“within my culture, we reflect a lot. We do this all the time.” We continued talking and he said:
“What is the point? Why be rich, like a doctor? school then work hard. Why we do this? The planet could end. We die.”
“We are all brought up differently. We have different cultures, ways to be. But, we are the same too.”
And as it began to get darker and the moon watched over us.
A man from Papua New Guinea sat beside us.
He talked of work. Of time off.
And how his favourite thing to do was to get on any train and get off at a place he didn’t know and just explore….
Thank you Glenroy. you have been the most open and welcoming nook we’ve been to ever I think.