Wilding the Heart


The mountain gods know it is time. Hush they say, listen to your heartbeat. Be ready for anything, sing the goddesses, we are here for you.  Somewhere between light of dawn and glow of dusk lies the present.  The forest beckons. Wild yourself whispers the bleached bones on my path. A feather falls, ever so lightly. I shiver in anticipation.

Our Elgin Marbles come home

Our Elgin Marbles come home (the marbles of the Parthenon). Only for a moment. These treasures of aboriginal cultural, sacred objects, will be shipped to the British Museum. Again. The first people of Australia have no say in this. Again.

These objects were stolen, along with the land we now call home. Yes, a Treaty was never signed. If there had been one, would the men and women whose ancestors walked the land for 60,00 years have understood its consequences?

We are almost tripping over the anniversary of that fateful date, January 26, when the nation officially celebrates Australia Day. Many of us now know it as Invasion Day, the day when 11 ships arrived in Sydney in 1788. Others prefer to call it Survival Day.

Wiradjuri woman, Mayrah Sonter explained,

“It’s a tricky day. We don’t celebrate ‘Australia Day’ today. We celebrate the survival of our people. It was the beginning of the end of a lot of Aboriginal culture and people. There were lives lost. Our culture has not been able to fully recover from the things that have happened.”

‘In 2003, Murray and Gary Foley, the Victorian scholar, author and activist, hatched a plan to seize the barks when they were loaned by the British Museum to the Melbourne Museum to mark the Australian institution’s 150th birthday.

The pair convinced a court to use a little-known provision of the National Aboriginal Cultural Heritage Act to secure the artefacts. Faced with pressure from the British and legal action from Melbourne Museum, the clan lost the case, but they found a friend in the Greek community, which is lobbying for the return of its Elgin Marbles.

“Our view has never changed. We want them home,” says Murray.’

The National Museum in Canberra is hosting an exhibition of 150 beautiful, hand-crafted spears, shields, necklaces and personal objects from the British Museum. They are here until March 28 and then the British take them away. Again.

Thanks to The Sydney Morning Herald and SBS for the quotes. You can read more: http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/art-and-design/encounters-at-national-museum-of-australia-our-elgin-marbles-come-home-20151104-gkp0nv.html#ixzz3y19V7IB1


Midnight moonlight


She was almost full

stalking the bush

casting long shadows

into the darkest recesses

of my mind

we stopped

and lay down on the litter

of warm damp life

the forest floor

soft against my back

your voice wandered

like my thoughts

to the sea

your hands still

like the air

your breath taking me

to another time



Love in Space

These are details from a painting that is about to be transformed into something else. A sign of impermanence. An offering of optimism.

Unspeakable Love

I have been working on this painting for a while now. It grew quickly, after the adrenaline rush of an evening’s life drawing, then stagnated on my wall for almost a year. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted but left it to gather dust. Passing glances told me that it was incomplete… but this stayed unresolved. A few weeks ago I reworked the face, creating a bland something that resembled a mass market greeting card. I fled for the coast, sun-filled days and friends calling.

I’m back in the city now, flying with new year energy. I threw myself at the canvas today and reworked the lot, knowing, simply knowing, that it was time!


‘The gift of unspeakable Love’, Oil on Canvas, 60cm x 60cm

© Jeni McMillan 2016

Breaking the circle

Often I am moved to poetry by the words and images of geo.kalpataru. A spontaneous eruption across time and space…

how can it be otherwise?
that lives and loves
crash on many shores
and break in tenderness
and rage in passion
and sleep in silence
dreaming dreaming dreaming
of birth death and rebirth
again and again and again.

Thank you, geo.

The mud of injustice


What will i do today?

From the comfort of my first world.

Food and abundant sunshine,

possibilities laughing through the double-glazed window.

What do i want?

And where do i go?

With romantic notions dancing on my screen-time.

How can i survive?

the confusion and guilt of having enough.

Being a unicorn in a shattered world,

A sunflower in a field of mud.

What will i do today?

From the comfort of my first world.



Ode to the Mystery


Sharp cliffs rolling

into the pounding, drowning

magnificent swell.

Wind tugging at my hair.

Feet firmly planted

against the edge

of Hell’s Jaws.

Biting gusts turning

my flesh into one bony carcass

perched at the abyss.

And beating on my careful spine …

the relentless sun.


Drawing, dreaming,writing, reading poetry (I highly recommend Mary Oliver), sharing a hammock with loved friends, massage swaps, cooking, feeding masses of beautiful people, swimming, playing… I have been to heaven and back!

Have a beautiful New Year, sun worshippers, wind warriors, and joyous beings … all of you special and creative friends.