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Gunduy by Kat Bell

The Bower Bird

Updated: Sep 4, 2019


A long streak of sunlight beams across my table reflecting through the messy strands of my uncombed hair. A scruffy white dog shivers feverishly to my right while its fat companion lies comfortably behind it soaking up the sun's rays.


There are many simple pleasures in life that I hope I never take for granted, like the warm feeling you get on a cold winters day and the sky is clear blue and the sun is shining bright. Your skin almost feels like it's being nourished by the sun and it's a glorious sensation.


Ever since I was little I recall how days like this would make me feel. I'd feel a sense of peace, I could just close my eyes and drift off to a far away imagined land. I'd sit outside in the school grounds wishing I could stay in the sun all day long. I'd long for a time where I would be free to run wild in our vast Aussie outback. We were so fortunate to be able to live in this place and enjoy moments like this. I'd run wild through the bush chasing the wind and searching out bower bird nests. I think this is when I fell in love with the bush, birds, our native wildlife and all things creative. I'd spend lengthy amounts of time observing these birds in their habitat, admiring their collection of blue objects. They'd gather up straws, glass, paper, plastic, feathers, fabric and many other items to lavishly adorn their nests. It was almost the perfect artist metaphor - a life of gathering up bits and pieces of what ever they can find to form their beautiful creations, a space decorated from floor to ceiling with colour and textures, exhibited in all their glory and wonderment, hoping to catch the imagination and intrigue of its intended audience.


Over time I've morphed my own existence into that of a bower bird, gathering up all that I can find (objects, materials, ideas and obsessions) anticipating the creative venture they will become a part of. Much like the bower bird, I place these things throughout my nest on walls, floors, ceilings and in obscure places. Their colours and textures filling my home, heart and mind with a sense of warmth, vibrancy, inspiration, intrigue, wonderment and calm, all the while embracing me in their individual and collective beauty.


As the sun starts to set, a new light and feeling comes into being. The scruffy old dog wonders off to another part of the house and its fat companion lifts its weary head from its afternoon slumber. Like clockwork they anticipate their evening dinner is coming. Eyes pointed firmly at the human that is tasked with catering to their evening nourishment. They are predictable creatures to say the least, eagerly waiting for the familiar movements of their Master gathering up their dinner bowls.


Like the bower bird predictably gathering up blue objects and proudly putting them on display, so to is the predictability of our evening routine. With the puppies now fed and the sun setting into the far off horizon, it's time to gather up some objects and start creating. This little bower bird has a burning desire deep down in the very darkest depths of the core of my being. And with that in mind dear readers I bid you good evening as I wonder off to create.

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