Gather kids, it’s story time! Seriously, gather your kids if you have them, as this post is for the little ones and the little ones at heart. It’s a treasured childhood book of mine and I found a you tube reading of it to share with you which (again, with the peeing in the pants) brightened my day so much so that I now need to wear shades.

This book is called tikki tikki tembo, and the story is set in ancient China. It’s written by Arlene Mosel and illustrated by Blair Lent.

I adore this book, although my 30 year old copy is in Sydney, I can still bring it to you right here, thanks to technology. It is this book that first captured my imagination and sent my heart wandering East. It was through my constant yearning to learn more and more about China that I soon learnt about Tibet. I was devastated to realise that right at that moment, a country and people I cherished were destroying and torturing it’s neighbour and themselves. My wandering heart bled. That was about ten years ago. and at that time I was at Uni studying art, so I went to a Chinese calligraphist in Sydney who taught me the Chinese character for ‘love with suffering’, I was told it is a character used often. I still continue to use this symbol in my art.

But as some of you may know, thanks to all of us pressuring to bring this situation to the headlines and hearts of thousands, Tibet and China are talking right now. This is positive.

My post about my Tibetan friend Tenpa gathered some great and controversial comments, check them out here. And as I mentioned in my last comment on that post, I will not only be showcasing Tibet on my blog, but everything that is connected with it, and that includes China. So why not start with Tikki Tembo! It begins a little something like this…

The illustrations captured my imagination as a little girl. When Mum read me the book I was instantly taken to the little house at the top of the hill, or resting with the old man and his ladder.
And it is now one of my niece and nephew’s favourite as I have been reading it to them since they were toddlers. Their faces beam when they hear me say tikki’s name and they join in with pure delight.

I highly recommend you buy a copy as the printed version is definately the best. But for those who just can’t wait, here is the very awesome retro video reading. Make yourself a tea, take a break and a deep breath. And enjoy…

And just for laughs, here is a chipmunk version of tikki’s name!

When I came across this story, I wanted to skip the writing and go straight to the little images at the bottom of the page. And so I did. But when I opened the photographs they captured my curiosity so much so that I had to read the text to understand the meaning of them. Then I found myself wanting to skip paragraphs of the text to get to the meaning as quickly as possible, but each time I skipped a paragraph it didn’t make sense so I found myself going back where I left off and reading through. It was worth it (and proved to me once again how impatient I am). And now I have read and viewed the images many many times, completely enchanted by the author’s experience. I would be in disbelief that there lived a girl this beautiful in such a place, except for the fact I have heard many similar encounters time and time again from friends who have traveled to this incredible country.

This is an inspiring short piece written (in English) by Dutch author Tim Krabbé. Take a 5 minute break, with cup of tea in hand, and click on the link below, it will truly enhance your day.

there was once a young girl who wore a green scarf…

Please click ‘play’ on the music player below while you read this post, thank you (and be patient if there is a little delay in loading)…

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okay. so this is it. there is no more procrastinating. no more perfecting my words. no more clearing my throat. or doing more research. or reading more literature. or looking at pretty pictures. The truth is I can’t go to this place you see above, or this place you see below…

… it’s not because I have a broken leg or something. Or because I can’t afford it. No, it is because of something I said.

But what could I have said that could stop me from going to a place as magical as this? Well, the thing is that I only told one person. I mean, I am no speech maker. I only have a little quiet voice. and it wasn’t made for making loud noises. So I haven’t announced this to an audience. Or even a group of individuals.

Until today.

I can’t visit this place because, well, I made a pact. You know some people get tattoos, or get a second earring hole. Or maybe pierce their nose. Or their tongue. I made a pact. And I declared my pact to this person…

His name is Tenpa . And he was born in the country I can’t go to. And perhaps I’m crazy to have made a pact to say that I can’t go there, because it is obviously full of the inspiration I crave – full of nature, full of colour, and life, and natural wonders, and full of photo opportunities to say the least. In fact, just like all ethnic cultures that us creatives derive inspiration from, this country and it’s culture is at the height of it all. It is in fact, the rooftop of the world. Yes, I’m talking about magnificent Tibet…

Back in the early ’80’s, when some of us were sporting bubble skirts (yes i confess), and large bangs, and listening to Wham, Tenpa’s mom was walking across those mountains with her 5 year old son on her back. She was escaping. Although she had done nothing wrong except breath which all of us are ‘guilty’ of, she was getting the hell out of there. For 15 days she trekked through that snow. And there were others too. A group of about 10 people, some old, some young. And some died. I often close my eyes and try to imagine being Tenpa’s mom on that mountain top. She would have been about my age. What would I see? Would I look back and whisper goodbye to my home? And as I struggle through the snow with nothing but the clothes on my back and my son at my heels, what would I be thinking as I watched others on my same path lay down of exhaustion and die? If it was me I would be scared out of my wits. But something must have been scarier behind Tenpa’s amala than in front of her, otherwise she would never have made the trip. No woman, man or child in their right mind would make that trip without a good bloody, freakin’ scary reason.

So baby Tenpa made it to India alive and so did his amala. But not for long, she lasted ‘in freedom’ for only five years, and died when he was ten.

Fast forward to the year two thousand and Tenpa arrives in Sydney, stepping off a plane for the first time in his life. He’s been granted a special visa to live in Australia thanks to his Dad who endured over 14 years of imprisonment and brutal torture in China for being a Tibetan monk. And yes he was a special sort of monk, he was a Rinpoche. For us novices of Buddhism this means he was a reincarnation.

Now, I’m no Buddhist so I won’t go off on a tangent and pretend that I know anything about monks and reincarnation. But I do know I’ve met many people in my little 30 years on this planet and I can assure you that Tenpa’s pala is without a doubt the gentlest person I have ever met in my life. He has not even lifted a finger to kill a mosquito sucking on his arm. In fact, while he endures the sting from the blood sucking creature he just smiles at me. I can imagine why too, that sting must feel like a kiss compared to what he has endured in his lifetime.

So under miraculous circumstances, Tenpa and my life crossed paths, and we’ve been crossing and weaving each others paths ever since. And that is when I made the pact. My reasoning was simple – for as long as Tibetans are not free to come and go from their own country, then nor am I. I made a pact that I would not go there until Tibet was safe. More poignantly, saved.

Which brings me back to this post. We all know Tibet has been in turmoil for the last 50 years. We all know that it is in the media right now. And we all know why. So just like I put Africa in the Spotlight in light of the horrific-ness of what was happening in Kenya two months ago, the time has come to put Tibet in the spotlight. For some reason it is harder for me to get these words out about Tibet. And I can’t discuss the brutality that is going on right now because it makes me vomit. It has taken me many hours to even get these words out and onto this post.

But since I’m in the habit of making pacts, what the hell, I’m making another one. I am no Steven Spielberg, Björk, Tina Turner, or Richard Gere. But I am the friend of this man. And he is the friend of this man. And his people need us. And lets be honest, are we not sick of hearing about the abuse of human rights in the 21st century? I don’t want to hear about another Tibetan nun shot dead. Or see another photo of a young, unarmed Tibetan protester shot dead. I want to hear that our voices are being heard and we can make this world a better and safer place. And to do that I will be showcasing Tibet and everything and everyone inspirational connected with it here in the (blog)house along with all our other wonderful design finds from around the globe. Tibet will now be an official part of the (blog)house until everyone in Tibet and associated with Tibet is safe. And in the meantime, I stand by my friend while his voice echoes through the loud speakers. He does have a louder voice than me after all. There is no doubt you will be seeing Tenpa on the TV and in the papers in Australia and the world in the months to come. And it will be for all the right reasons. But my wish is that one fine day, my pact will be met and I will travel to Tibet with my best friend and have Tibetan tea in a place just like this…

All Tibet images courtesy of L’Internaute.

Photos of Tenpa la courtesy of Tenpa la and Jamie Williams.

And music by none other than the very talented Tenzin Cheogyal. Click here to visit his website, and here to download free mp3’s like this one you are listening to – another example of how generous the Tibetan people are.

Be warned, if you are eating breakfast or dinner right now it may come back up while you read this…

Beverly found this article and I am still in shock. Can you believe that this is during the time of our grandparents, that our parents were born from this era, and that there are still remnants (large remnants I must say) of this thought pattern between men and women today. If you can’t read all the points, it is re-written in this article, click here to read. Here is one bullet point that might just have you gasping for breath as it did me:

8. Give every girl an adequate number of rest periods during the day. You have to make some allowances for feminine psychology. A girl has more confidence and is more efficient if she can keep her hair tidied, apply fresh lipstick and wash her hands several times a day.

Funny that Beverly found this article the morning that I am about to call my gorgeous Great Aunt in oz to wish her a happy birthday (she is in her ‘mid’ eighties), and I may just have to ask her a question or two about her experience of working during the war.

I’ll be back today with a few more posts, see you soon px

image courtesy of Get Up Australia.

Today is a special day. Right now hundreds of people including Aboriginal Elders have gathered from across that beautiful big island in the southern hemisphere and are listening to the Australian Prime Minister saying sorry. What for? Read about it all here.

But before I continue on my post to celebrate this day, I have a song I would like you to listen to while reading this post. If I could be so bold as to ask you to click here to listen to The Stiff Gins ‘In Paradise’ while you read this post (don’t forget to come back here to read!)…

Photo by Gerald Jenkins for The Dreaming.

So where was I… Oh yes, I love Aboriginal Australia: original Australia. My favourite books in Primary School were the dreamtime ones, filled with Aboriginal paintings and drawings of serpents, watering holes and naked black figures with boomerangs. I loved when an Aboriginal Dance group would come to perform at our school, my heart was filled with inspiration and anytime I heard the didgeridoo I would feel ‘home’.

Photograph by Rotten Cotton. Purchase awesome didges online here.

As you can imagine there is so much I could share with you about Aboriginal Culture but in this post I have picked just a few of my favourites in celebration of this momentus day. Let’s start with these two chicks you are listening to now…

The first time I heard these girls sing was a decade ago. I was in a friend’s exhibition opening, sipping champagne and enjoying the wild and wacky work of my fellow students. While the room was filled with loud chattering all of a sudden these harmonic voices broke the chattering. It was that of these girls, Aboriginal singers The Stiff Gins. They had no instrument but their voices, and they stopped my mind’s chattering dead, my skin was covered in goosebumps and my heart was pumping loud and became a hidden beat to their song. There latest album called Kingia Australis is breathtaking.

All three stills from Phillip Noyce’s Rabbit Proof Fence.

Then there is this brilliant movie that depicts today’s reason for saying sorry. An incredible cast. Also in my DVD collection is Noyce’s remarkable Ten Canoes…

Still courtesy of Ten Canoes.

It goes a little something like this: “It is longtime ago. It is our time, before you other mob came from cross the ocean…longtime before then. The rains been good and ten of the men go on the swamp, to hunt the eggs of gumang, the magpie goose. One of the men, the young fella, has a wrong love, so the old man tell him a story…a story of the ancient ones, them wild and crazy ancestors who come after the spirit time, after the flood that covered the whole land…” Check out the website, it is beautiful.

And last but not least there is the incredible Bangarra Dance Theatre, one of Australia’s most innovative dance companies that blend traditional Aboriginal culture with contemporary dance. I have loved every single performance I have seen, each performance is stunning. They are heading overseas for their North American tour later this year…

Image courtesy of the Bangarra Dance Theatre.

And so my heart is inspired today – inspired with hope that today’s apology is representative of a new kind of people in this world. A people that finally recognise that the colour of one’s skin does not determine one’s value in society. A people that have spiritually evolved and know full well that their spirit comes from their ancestry and indigenous neighbours. And today’s post is to tell you that I am one of those people.