Outrunning cyclone Yatsi

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Mark's Tree
Yesterday we got back from the south of Queensland.
We had done a runner from Cairns, Far Northern Queensland, as the Government advised ALL to flee..
The cyclone Yasi had been approaching.
So, as good and frightened citizens we hopped in the car and made a dash for the south.
Yasi decided to follow us. We went through a pretty beach place called Cardwell, abandoned for sure, windows taped up etc but it was quiet and peaceful. Our two dogs, loves of our life, traveling with us needed a break. Angelo, named after Michael Angelo, and Vinci, named after Da Vinci.
Cardwell was a very pretty place and we stood on the beachfront with a row of palmtrees.
We left and ten hours later it was devasteated. Same with Tully, further down..In Cardwell the beautiful row of palmtrees along the coast where we stood with the dogs were all gone.
We saw that devastation on our way back. Then came Tully, near Townsville.
We left and it was also hit in a mighty way. So sad.
We found ourselves at Mark's, Clemens eldest son and my godson. (Clemens is my friend from when we were 7 years old in Indonesia and later Iran and Holland. Then Australia !!!)

Mark lives near a place called Bundaberg.(QLD)
In Marks house I saw a painting I had done for him. A few years ago, maybe 3 or 4 years. It was to symbolise strength.
Now he needs it as every man of 39 wants it. The threshold of becoming 40. Scary. I nearly went crazy when I turned 33.
J.C dies at the Cross then !!!
Then we moved futher south to Clemens other son Rick with his lovely wife Lindsay and little boy Callum. They live on the Sunshine coast. Also Queensland.
Rick's PaintingThere I saw another painting I had done for them.
I was totally proud of both paintings. I always say: I hold the brush, somebody or something else does the painting. So I am showing them here.:
Ok, what am I going on about ?
The trip down south to avoid a terrible catastrophe was very mild. A bit too much rain but nothing unusual. The trip back to the North, to home, nothing happened but we saw the devastation.
Houses unroofed and nearly all the trees badly damaged or completely felled. Again very sad.
But all the time I had in my head the two paintings I did.
One to symbolise Strength and the other to symbolise Moving on.
As it happens the young man with the Moving On painting is on his way, with wife and kid, to Europe.Scotland to be precise.
To start, again, a new job, and new life.
The painting about strength comes at a time very approprately. The man has a very new and optomistic way of approaching HIS life.
And I am biased, he is my godson, for heavens sake !!!!
I know I have no special insights or future gazing qualities. Just coincidence.All coincidence.
Also the coincidence we didn't experience any bad things on our journey. Not even a flat tire.
Maybe flat energy and nerves, but no more. We did travel 3600 km !!!!
Thinking about that I must say, having lived in Indonesia as a kid, in Holland growing more up and in Iran as a youngster, in Portugal in the late 70's I missed every bloody opputunity to experience SOMETHING dramatical.
I vaguly remember in Djakarta in 1952 0r 3 we were driving through down-town Djakarta and were stopped by a soldier waving a sword and pretty off his face, drunk or something. My father got out of the car and faced this menace , who truly wanted to kill us, and my little sister Margaretha shouted: Don't you hurt my daddy !!!
But then five cars with help came and nothing happened. Well, we were saved.
When I lived in the Azores we daily had a few tremmors, you could see it in a glass of water,
the survace would have a shake, I actually hoped to experience a minor earthquake but nothing. Bloody nada. Nothing happened.
Until I left. In Lisbon I heard they had a big earthquake on the Island of S.Michael, where I was living on for a year.
When I was at boardingschool at 11 years old in Holland, St.Louis in Amersfoort, everybody had the Azian Flue, including the Holiest of Holy men, the Brothers of Mary of Immaculate Conception and the Priest, but not 4 boys. Obviously I counted to that number.
Still, at 65 years of age I am waiting for my first flue.
I am certainly not a healthy living person. Maybe that is the reason.
My daily icecream with thickened cream and Gingerbeer, milk and coffee must do the trick.
I know what many people say to me: Just you wait. Ja, ja, just you wait Henry Higgins.
But for how long ? How many paintings ?
My next painting will be about this enigma of not feeling a little pain with all the distruction around me.
Or should I shut up. Or stick to painting........
Maybe.
I'll tell you the next time.
Or the next Life.
Or the next Earthquake, flood or cyclone.

Comments

Dearest Paulo

It must of felt surreal, one day beautiful - next day devastation. I was not in the Brisbane floods myself, though they were not too far away - it still seems far away and removed. Your paintings as always, I adore, they are a gift from within that you share with the world. Our treasures then, and very relevant and reflective of your recent experiences.

Love you always
Tracy :)