sallymurphy.com.au

Sally Murphy, Australian author

Sage is Back (And I am Too)

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I am home home homity home. I had a wonderful time in Hanoi, writing, exploring, meeting people, writing, walking, writing… but all good things must come to an end, and coming home is always fabulous.  It is wonderful to be back with my wonderful family, to walk on my beach, to  see my friends and to sleep in my own bed.

It is taking me a little while to get back into the swing of daily life – with the wedding of one of my sons happening soon after my arrival and, of course, three months worth of things to catch up on. It’s a good kind of busy, though, and I am happy and content.

One of the things I had to do when I got home was open three months worth of mail, a task which took a few days. It was a specially lovely surprise to find not one but two parcels containing author copies of new books – installments seven and eight of my Sage Cookson series.

First, there was Stormy Weather, which sees Sage visit Townsville and experience a cyclone first hand.

This book is dedicated to my friends at Kirwan Primary in Townsville, a school which holds a very special place in my heart. My annual visit there is a highlight of my touring calendar. I have signed a copy and posted it off to Kirwan – a tiny token of my very great love for the school and every one there.

And then there was a second parcel containing copies of Snow Day, in which Sage (and her parents) head off to the snow for a relaxing weekend – with Sage promising to stay away from danger.

Both books are out now.

 

As for me, I am busy, among other things, finishing off the two new books I started work on in Hanoi, among many other things.

Stay tuned.

Poetry Friday: Reflections

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I am in the last two weeks of my Hanoi adventure. Some days it feels like I’ve just arrived; others like I’ve been here forever. Since I last posted I have travelled further afield, seeing  a little more of  Vietnam including glorious Sa Pa,  and three trips to different parts of Ninh Binh Province. I have had a few scary moments and some moments of sheer joy. Luckily more joy than scare, but it’s the blend that keeps life interesting.  Anyway, I have tried to capture some of this in poetry, so rather than rabbiting on, here is what I’ve come up with – firstly on the scary bits:

Moments of fear:     

The only photo I have of the scary cave was too busy keeping my head down – this is a snap just as we exited. the ceiling was slightly higher here.

Crossing a Hanoi road;

Too-fast bus swinging around blind corners

On a narrow mountain road;

Scam taxi driver

Late at night;

Power outage

In a building

Needing electricity to exit;

A boat ride

Through a flooded cave

Where the roof brushes the back of bent head.

 

After each I laugh and say

I’ll write about it.

 

(Sally Murphy, 2018)

 

Secondly, on the  blissful stuff:

What Am I Of?

Beautiful Sa Pa.

I am of the sea.

I like to walk

And breathe the fresh fresh air

Feel the sand beneath my feet

Hear the waves lap on the shore

And feel close to creation.

 

But in the mountains

Of a foreign land

I feel my heart swell

And suddenly

 

I am of the mountain.

I like to walk

And breathe the fresh fresh air

Feel the mud beneath my boots

Hear the waves of rustling green foliage

And feel close to creation

 

And I know

That I am of nature.

(Sally Murphy 2018)

 

And thirdly, because these hands, framed snapped in a  second, deserve a few lines. Thanks to my new Canadian friend, Dave, who these hands belong to.

This time in two weeks I will be on a plane making my way home. I know I will be sad to end this amazing experience – but, of course, can’t wait to get home to my amazing family.

 

Today’s Poetry Friday roundup is hosted by Michelle at Today’s Little Ditty.

 


PS. This post, and my visit to Hanoi, are made possible by the amazing Asialink Arts Program, and with the funding support of the the Western Australian Government through the Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries.

Poetry Friday: Crossing Roads

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It’s kind of ironic that I have come to Hanoi to write, and yet struggle to find time to write a regular blog post.  But rest assured, although I have been quiet here, words have been written, and ideas are percolating, and adventures which will, one way or another, make their way into my future writings, are being had.   Many of those adventures seem to involve traffic, a topic which seems to keep coming up in my writing and in my conversations.

Yesterday, talking with some lovely new friends about overcoming fears and taking risks, I found myself using an analogy, comparing the doubt we have about taking risks to  the moments before crossing a busy Hanoi road. The moments when we wonder if the traffic will ever clear enough, and if we should risk it or just go back where we came from. And I talked about how, once you do take that first step, a pathway kind of appears – not a straight line but an awareness of the gaps. And how good it feels to get to the other side. As I said this, my friends nodded in agreement, and I knew I had to try to put all that into a poem.  Before I show you what I came up with, here is a glimpse of the kind of road I mean. This footage was taken just after I had crossed both of the roads at a busy intersection  (to end up diagonal from my starting point). It is actually an intersection with traffic lights and even walk signals  but  red lights and little green men do NOT mean the same thing here as they do elsewhere. And the most dangerous part is often on the pavement, because the motorbikes leave the road, cut the corner on the footpath, then duck back onto the road.  You might get some sense of what I mean in the video.

The best part is – this is not the busiest road I have crossed.

Anyway, here’s my attempt to craft my analogy into a poem.

Crossings

 

Crossing a Hanoi road

is just a metaphor for life.

You stand poised on the edge

and you see

all the danger

the risks

the hazards

and you wonder if it’s safer

to just stay where you are.

But then you remember your goal

and you know

you can only do it

by leaving your safe spot.

So you assess the risks

watch for patterns

and gaps

and opportunities

and finally

take that first step.

There is no straight line.

There are noises

and smells

and moments of sheer terror

and you have to adjust your course

as you go

but when you get there

you smile

glad to be alive.

(Poem copyright Sally Murphy, 2018)

Today’s Poetry Friday Roundup is hosted by Brenda at Friendly Fairytales. Head over there to see links to loads of other poetry goodness.  Have a good week – and watch out for motorbikes!


PS. This post, and my visit to Hanoi, are made possible by the amazing Asialink Arts Program, and with the funding support of the the Western Australian Government through the  Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries.

Poetry Friday: Poetic Motorbikes

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One thing I wonder at every day here in Hanoi is the way motorbikes are used – as family vehicles (amazing how many people can ride on one bike!), as shops, as taxis, even – to my amazement – as beds. I have seen many riders stretched out on the back of their parked bike fast asleep.  But the use that amazes me the most is for transportation of stuff. I wish I had started photographing these sooner – photos I didn’t take included a whole single bed innerspring mattress being carried on the seat of the  motorbike and a piano being carried in a tiny trailer behind a motorbike.  I was also delighted to see a boy sitting on the back of the bike driven my his mother. He was not holding on – because he was too busy reading a book!

Anyway, I have started collecting photos of some of what I see being transported, which has made me ponder even more the very exact art of  loading,  and securing that load. And, of course, wondering how often loads come loose or the whole bike topples. I did pass one bike on its side outside a shop, with the shop staff unconcernedly carrying the various scattered boxes into the shop.

 

As I thought about how to put all this into a poem, it occurred to me that the art of loading a motorbike is very like the art of writing a poem. So here’s what I came up with.

Poetic Motorbikes

Loading a Hanoi motorbike

Is much like

Writing a poem.

First you collect

All that you want to include

Then you carefully

Add and layer

Layer and add

Shift things round

Balancing

Balancing

Balancing

Then, when you are done

You take off

Hoping

It reaches

Its destination.

Sometimes it works

And sometimes

You have

gone

too

far.

(Poem Copyright Sally Murphy 2018)

That’s it from me for this Poetry Friday – but don’t forget you can see what other poetry lovers all around the world have posted today by visiting the Poetry Friday Roundup, hosted today by the wonderful Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference.
PS. This post, and my visit to Hanoi, are made possible by the amazing Asialink Arts Program, and with the funding support of the the Western Australian Government through the  Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries.

Poetry Friday: Nature Songs

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Exploring Hanoi continues to throw up much food for thought. This week, among other places, I visited the Botanic Gardens which, I was surprised to realise, are withing walking distance of my apartment. It took me three weeks to realise there was a park with trees and lakes and nature so close to me. So, of course, I just had to go and visit it and spend a few hours walking and wondering.

My favourite thing there was the squirrels. We don’t have squirrels in Australia, so i was delighted when I spotted them here, running up and down trees, along branches and collecting food. the one in the photo below froze hen he realised I was watching him. I think he hoped that I would mistake him for part of the tree.
I love the way squirrels seem so busy – and, of course, their adorable fluffy tails! here’s my Squirrel Song:

So, with so much squirrel goodness, you would think I would have left the gardens happy. But I didn’t. Because not far from where I watched the squirrels was a cage. And in that cage, with a concrete floor, metal bars, and a tub of water, were several monkeys. Sad, overweight, apathetic monkeys. Obviously there to be looked at, and nothing more. I stood and watched them for a while, and cried. I told them how sorry I was that they were caged and I felt powerless to help them in any way. Here’s my Monkey Moan:

I have spent a lot of time thinking about these monkeys – and, my thoughts went to other caged animals. I know that zoos can play very important parts in education and even in preserving endangered species. But this was not a zoo. It was a cage of monkeys in a park. There was also a cage of peacocks. And around the world there are dolphins in tanks for entertainment, and all kinds of animals caged and restrained for people to enjoy. Heartbreaking. And something I will continue to ponder – knowing I am powerless to change everything but perhaps my power lies in raising awareness to make tiny changes.

On a brighter note, later in the week I walked past this fence line and was amazed to see the tree roots growing not under or over, but seemingly through the solid fence. Nature is resilient and very very clever. So here is the Tree’s Trill.

Sorry for a slightly depressing post this week. You are witness to my learning. For more poetry goodness, please visit the Poetry Friday roundup hosted by Jone at Deowriter.

PS. This post, and my visit to Hanoi, are made possible by the amazing Asialink Arts Program, and with the funding support of the the Western Australian Government through the  Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries.

Poetry Friday: Never Alone

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This week I have been, understandably, a little homesick. Not dreadfully so, but this is the longest I have been without seeing at least one member of my family EVER. And of course I am in a country where I am surrounded by people, but very few of them speak my language, and this is a very new experience for me.  It’s why I came here: because I think it is important to step outside my comfort zone and try new things, and I also think it is good to feel what it likes to be in a minority.

So, my thoughts have turned to commonalities. Because in amongst the strangeness of a foreign country there are many moments that remind me of the universality of human emotions, and the ability to communicate. An exchange with a taxi driver who attempted a little English, with me attempting a little Vietnamese back, lead to us both giggling at our own efforts. A child running with a balloon and squealing made me stop and smile, and the mother following behind met my eye and nodded. A man  on a motorbike was clipped by a bus but luckily was not hurt – but my driver and I both exclaimed.

I tried to capture these thoughts in a poem:

Different but the Same

In a bustling

Busy city

It is easy to feel alone.

But in that busy bustling city

A smile

A giggle

A shared moment

Of shock or horror

Reminds me

That everyone

Is human.

(Sally Murphy, 2018)

And then, after I’d drafted this, three things happened.  First, I decided to go to a meet up of  women, that I heard about through Facebook.But on the way, I got a little lost and, on the verge of giving up and going home, was helped on my way by a stranger, who went out of his way to ensure I got where I was going. Secondly, on my way home from this wonderfully warm morning of chat, I was stopped by a stranger who was lost and, it turned out, I was able to help him (a fellow Aussie!) get his bearings. Thirdly, the discussion in between times lead to us talking about commonalities, and, as a follow up, to sharing of this video from Maya Angelou, all about humanity!

Oh Maya – what a brilliant human being !

Not much else I can say really except have a wonderful Friday.
Poetry Friday this week is hosted by Erin a The Water’s Edge.

PS. This post, and my visit to Hanoi, are made possible by the amazing Asialink Arts Program, and with the funding support of the the Western Australian Government through the  Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries.