Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Blaise's Page
Lake Cullulleraine Writers’ Camp
This was my first writers’ camp and I must say that I was very impressed with the creative pursuits of these kids. The idea of making books is a new one to the camp but it seems that most participants were eager to try it. I was also very chuffed to be so easily accepted by everyone.
As always, when we surrender ourselves to the written word, we are surprised at what might eventuate. Sometimes it’s a good surprise and other times it can be painful or left of field.
One of my poems from Barry’s workshop was one of those ‘left of field’ writing experiences:
My Family (the truth)
When I was a kid
I lived with my mum, two brothers and a sister
My dad was long gone
Cos mum kicked him out
I don’t remember missing my dad
Cos I didn’t really know him
And I was busy being a kid anyway
My sister’s five years older
So she was always just bossy
I hung around with my two little brothers
Climbing trees and pulling wings off flies
They’re called ‘walks’ when you do that
Now, I’m a mum with two high school boys
And I’m glad they know their dad
Better than my dad
Who never came through with a single promise
This was my first writers’ camp and I must say that I was very impressed with the creative pursuits of these kids. The idea of making books is a new one to the camp but it seems that most participants were eager to try it. I was also very chuffed to be so easily accepted by everyone.
As always, when we surrender ourselves to the written word, we are surprised at what might eventuate. Sometimes it’s a good surprise and other times it can be painful or left of field.
One of my poems from Barry’s workshop was one of those ‘left of field’ writing experiences:
My Family (the truth)
When I was a kid
I lived with my mum, two brothers and a sister
My dad was long gone
Cos mum kicked him out
I don’t remember missing my dad
Cos I didn’t really know him
And I was busy being a kid anyway
My sister’s five years older
So she was always just bossy
I hung around with my two little brothers
Climbing trees and pulling wings off flies
They’re called ‘walks’ when you do that
Now, I’m a mum with two high school boys
And I’m glad they know their dad
Better than my dad
Who never came through with a single promise
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
Sarah's Page
Sarah at Longrenong Writers Camp, 2005, demonstrating a newly discovered musical instrument: the electric whisk. This was during a workshop on The Blues. Sarah pointed out that these electric mixers run at three speeds: fast, medium and slow. Each speed is a particular note. Cool, huh? The other two photos show Sarah performing her songs.Sarah prepared around 12 new tracks - she composed and recorded the backing tracks that were used to inspire students at the camp to write rap. She also wrote severla raps herself; here are a couple of them:
Where do I belong?
©Carozzi Cowan Speiser 2010
These days I do a lot of wondering ‘bout what makes me Australian
The nation’s coat of arms on feedlot farms or the thick melanomas on the labourers’ arms
I mean the mighty roo up for number reduction emus boiled down for oil production
When I say I’m an Aussie tell me what’s that? I don’t do footy or Akubra hats
And I’m not a true native of the Southern Cross as to where I fit in I’m at a total loss
But I’d be lyin’ if I said I identified with a flag or a jar of vegemite
All of my life I’ve been searching for something
Always that one thing
Where do I fit in?
And all of my days I spend searching for home
Who are my people?
Where do I belong?
I am connected to the rocks and the gum trees I am a creature of the deep green southern seas
I love the way dust feels between my weathered toes the way it gets really still just before the wind blows
The growl of the possum the spirits of the old ones yellow sand ancient land red dust gold sun
It’s not on my visa or a note from the Queen I’ve connected more with this land than anywhere I’ve ever been
All of my life I’ve been searching for something
Always that one thing
Where do I fit in?
And all of my days I spend searching for home
Who are my people?
Where do I belong?
X2
No More War
© 2010 Carozzi Cowan Speiser
Lyrics © Cowan
Oh no more
No more war
They came to this land with nothing in their hands, saved by the sand and the sea
Their countries at war, spirits so sore, shocked to the core indeed
They took their lives in their hands and paid the boatman, left their homes to come here
In leaky little boats, lucky just to float, the coastguard shooting up the rear
They’re escorted to the shore to a locked cell door, split from their children and their families
They were losin’ grip, stitchin’ up their lips, here in the land of the free…
Oh no more …
In a world ideal with peace the real deal and people not buying into fear
When no one has to steal to find their next meal then we could go there or they could come here
I gotta give what I’ve got cause man we’ve got a lot and it’s weighing us down in shame
Coz we only got one, better share with someone, or I’ve only got myself to blame
Oh no more
No more war
Lyrics © Cowan
Oh no more
No more war
They came to this land with nothing in their hands, saved by the sand and the sea
Their countries at war, spirits so sore, shocked to the core indeed
They took their lives in their hands and paid the boatman, left their homes to come here
In leaky little boats, lucky just to float, the coastguard shooting up the rear
They’re escorted to the shore to a locked cell door, split from their children and their families
They were losin’ grip, stitchin’ up their lips, here in the land of the free…
Oh no more …
In a world ideal with peace the real deal and people not buying into fear
When no one has to steal to find their next meal then we could go there or they could come here
I gotta give what I’ve got cause man we’ve got a lot and it’s weighing us down in shame
Coz we only got one, better share with someone, or I’ve only got myself to blame
Oh no more
No more war
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