Indrani Perera

poet, publisher & mentor

Month: May 2017

Olive Curing

When it came time to prepare the olives for pickling I was really surprised at how much the girls enjoyed the process. I had thought they would have a quick go, lose interest and go back to playing a game or reading their books. Instead, they sat at the kitchen table, sorting olives and cutting a slit in each one ready for brining and salting. It was a big job and took a long time but they stuck with it, chatting away and telling each other stories, totally immersed in the process.

Miss Eleven even wanted to pound the pink himalayan rock salt in the mortar and pestle. I suggested we put it in the spice grinder but received an emphatic "No!" in response. She wanted to experience the whole process and do it herself, by hand. Now that's my daughter!

We had to have a break for dinner and after dinner they wanted to keep going and jar the olives. Even though it was late, I figured they were so into it that it would be a shame to send them to bed with the job only half done. I know I like having the satisfaction of finishing the task even though it doesn't always happen around here – I've become very good at interrupted crafting, cleaning and writing!

After Miss Eleven had a go at pounding the salt in the mortar and pestle she agreed we could whizz it in the grinder to speed things up. Rock salt is pretty tough! We divided the olives into two batches – black and green. We salted the black olives by layering them in a jar with alternating layers of salt. The green olives we put into a brine.

Making the brine was interesting. The recipe I found said add enough salt and an egg to a saucepan of water and heat gently to dissolve the salt. When the egg floats, the brine is ready. The recipe was vague enough that it allowed plenty of room for discovery, doubt and experimentation. I'm starting to really enjoy the more is less approach to recipes even though it's quite unsettling. It gives me a chance to experience doubt, embrace trust and learn for myself as much as I can from the process. It's a gift of learning to sit with uncomfortable emotions. Not easy to do but oh so revealing!

Miss Eleven is really excited by our olives and she wants to make a tapenade from them. When I suggested we buy olives from the market as ours were pretty small and we wouldn't get a lot of flesh from each I received another resounding "NO!" She wants to make tapenade from olives we forage and cure. And I have to say, I can't really argue with that.

May 29, 2017
Autumn Break

I was starting to feel hemmed in by my weekly routine. Every day except Sunday was accounted for with something that had to be done. Truth be told Sunday was accounted for too – clothes washing and house cleaning. No room left for spontaneity and adventure? Eek!

I'd been mentally counting the days till the school holidays when all the activities go on hold and we have a chance to be spontaneous and have fun. It's sunny today, let's go for a walk on the beach. Oh look, it's raining, how about a trip to the museum? Or my favourite, let's spend the day pottering around the house in our pjs doing whatever we want to at home.

Well there's still over a month to go until school holidays start but I got my little fix of spontaneity yesterday when we threw the routine out the window. Instead of our weekly visit to the market for fruit and veg we drove to the Dandenongs to see friends on a gorgeous sunny autumn day.

On the way we stopped at the most gorgeous shop ever, Epoche in Kallista. Four rooms filled with the most delightful handmade toys, clothes, jewellery, shoes, books, craft supplies and more. How gorgeous is the needle felted banner with all the leaves, flowers and birds? I love that kookaburra! My inner craft queen was in craft heaven. So much inspiration and goodness all around me. The perfect antidote to mundanity!

May 27, 2017
Running Wild

On a recent trip to the Darebin Parklands I arrived to find the creek running wild after several days of steady rain. It had well and truly burst its banks and turned from a sleepy little creek to a raging, rushing river. I was there with my girls and their friends and they all went wild with excitement, whooping, screaming, shouting and laughing at the river rushing past. There was no hope of crossing the river, our bridge was submerged by the torrent.

The kids were so loud and exuberant. They were totally in the moment, being wild with the wild river. I smiled indulgently at them at first. You know, in that patronising grown up way of "How sweet." Truth be told I was a little uncomfortable with such abandon and emotion. It was so wild and free. And it tugged at something inside me that been's buried for a long time under the work of being a mum, being organised, cooking, cleaning and all that daily drudgery that can completely engulf and overwhelm when you let it. It had successfully managed to stifle my own wildness with the seriousness of being an adult and a parent.

But on this day, when the river ran wild and my kids went with it, I did too. I let their enthusiasm sweep me along as we explored the new banks of the river, marvelled at our familiar path made unpassable by the torrent and discovered new routes in our new landscape.

May 25, 2017
Olive Picking

I'm getting much better at really looking at the trees around me and noticing what they are. Not so long ago, it was all just a wall of green that was a background to wherever I was going. I can now confidently identify wattles (the sap is edible), she oaks (great for basket weaving), japanese maples (lovely shapes for eco-dyeing) and olives tress (need I say more?). I adore olives. They are my all-time favourite snack. So many varieties, so many ways of preserving. And so tasty! We eat a ridiculous amount of shop bought olives each week in this family. We've all got our favourites. For me and Miss Seven it's currently sicilian olives marinated in lemon and garlic. The lovely G scoffs the chilli olives along with Miss Eleven who's also partial to the feta stuffed ones. Of course we can't live without kalamata olives either, they go into my chicken casserole or a tuna nicoise salad.

I'm so excited that olive season is finally here again and I can have another go at curing olives. This time, hopefully with more success! There's quite a few places around Melbourne where you can find olive trees growing on nature strips. I went to a wilder place to pick my olives. As I sank deep into the rhythm of picking olives from the tree, thoughts flittered through my mind. I thought with wonder and gratitude of all the people who do this every day so that I can eat olives whenever I want to. I wondered at how long it takes to carefully pick olives from the tree so that they don't bruise. I can hurry but I'll damage my crop. A lesson in slow and steady. My focus narrows and becomes razor sharp. Now it's just the sun on my face, me and the tree. I get really good at singling out the green olives without blemishes. It becomes a game, how many do I still need to pick to fill my jar?

There's magic to be found in foraging. There's the excitement of discovering trees bearing fruit. A growing awareness of the plants around me. A connection to the season and what is ripe and ready for picking. You can't hurry a tree along, it's gonna be ready when it's ready. What a great teacher of patience and waiting until the time is just right! Invariably there's a lot of tasting before things are ripe but that's all part of the learning too. Who knew that green mulberries warmed by the sun are tasty when eaten right off the tree? My girls know! Discovery, tasting and the joy of harvesting. And all the while we are getting our hands dirty, feet planted firmly on the earth.

What are you foraging?

May 22, 2017
Open Studios

I headed for the hills at the end of last month for the Dandenong Ranges Open Studio weekend. Artists across the ranges opened their studios and homes to the public. It was so exiting to meet the different artists and get a tiny peek into their world. Jewellers, bookbinders, sculptors, painters, dyers and more had opened their studios and their hearts.

Each artist participating in the Open Studios weekend submitted an artwork for an exhibition at Burrinja Cultural Centre in Upwey. The quality of all the work was incredible and there was a wide range of styles on display. Next year I'll definitely be visiting the exhibition before the weekend to check out the works on offer and then plan which studios to visit.

It was delightful to catch up with artist Jacqui Grace of Beautiful Wasteland Create. She makes stunning eco-dyed silk and merino clothing. I fell completely love with her dedicated studio space at Burrinja. A studio of my own is now on my wish list! I also visited Nadia Turner, an artist who I have been following on Instagram. I love her pictures of fey folk. They look like they've just stepped out of a wonderful world filled with fantasy and adventure. I wish I could step into one of her pictures and join them on their adventures.

A highlight of the day was spending a couple of hours in the beautiful home of artist Susie Parry as she gave a demonstration in botanical watercolours. Spending so much time in nature lately has made me curious about capturing it on paper, not just on my camera. Botanical illustrations are so beautiful, it would be wonderful to be able to do them myself. Suzy made it look all too easy with her simple explanations and great skill. However, when I had a go at it myself the following week, I found just how hard it really is!

It was a lovely day, meeting artists and getting inspired by their studio spaces and processes. A big thank you to all of them for being so kind and generous and opening their studio doors.

May 18, 2017
Nature’s Abundance

It's easy for me to forget where my food comes from. I live in an inner city flat and buy all my fresh fruit and veg at a local market. Intellectually I know that it all grows on trees or in the ground and is harvested by farmers. Practically I am a world away from harvesting my own food. Or so I thought. It turns out that growing all around me in the parks of Melbourne is an amazing array of fresh fruit ripe for the picking. How gorgeous are the lilly pillys and feijoa in the above photo? They were foraged by a friend along with carob from local trees. I had no idea that feijoas and carob grew in Melbourne or that anyone had planted them.

Seeing the gorgeous colours of the foraged fruit was a lovely reminder of the abundance that surrounds me all the time. Nature is so generous with her colourful and delicious bounty. She shares with everyone willing to spend some time getting to know the plants that surround them. With consumerism rampant it's so easy to get caught up in the scarcity myth. It's the myth that says there's not enough for everyone. The one that says we need to buy more stuff. The one that tells us happiness can be bought with the latest or greatest thing. It's too easy to be distanced from the natural world of growing things and yet I find that the more time I spend in nature, the happier I am.

It's funny how you can forget things. Until I saw the fruit, I'd forgotten my own foraging adventures on nature strips and in parks around my home. In the past I've gathered olives, peppercorns, passionfruit, plums and figs. I'm sure there is so much more to discover. Last year I had a turn at pickling the olives foraged from a tree near my girls' piano teacher's house. I was using the soak and rinse every day method and on about day 11 of 14 I forgot and my olives ending up slimy and off. This year I'm having another shot at curing my olives. I'm going to try the brine and salt methods found here this time. I'll let you know how I go.

May 15, 2017
Craftyr

You may have heard of hygge, but have you heard of craftyr? Chances are, probably not as I've just made it up!

For the last little while I've been fascinated with the idea of 'hygge'. It comes from Denmark – a country of great design, New Nordic Cuisine and long, cold winters. Hygge is the experience of sharing a warm, cosy, intimate experience with others. Think sipping cups of tea with your friends in front of a roaring fire. Think of a long dinner with your family by flickering candlelight. It's even better if these events happen after you've been outdoors for a brisk walk or ski around your neighbourhood.

How to pronounce it is a bit of a mystery (hoo-gah or hue-gir or some combination of the two) yet saying aloud that an event is hygge is all part of the magic. Just thinking of a moment as hygge is fleeting and soon replaced by the long list of things to do and the little worries of the day. On the other hand, saying aloud that something is hygge seems to elevate the experience. Having someone else to affirm the observation helps to cement that moment in time and space as being special. I've experienced this phenomenon myself. When I observe a moment as hygge it's nice but when I share that observation with the people around me, the moment seems to take on a lasting glow. Especially when those people agree that the moment is hygge.

Imagine what it would be like to have a whole culture observing hygge moments. How special would that be? That's exactly what the Danes do. Maybe that's why they're consistently voted one of the happiest nations on earth in spite of brutally cold, dark and long winters.

As I added hygge to my vocabulary, I noticed that there were other moments that felt special and worthy of attention. Like hygge, these moments celebrated togetherness but they weren't quite hygge. There was no outdoor activity followed by the welcome of shelter, warmth and safety. What we had instead was creativity, togetherness, intent and quiet. The first time I noticed this feeling was when I was knitting with my daughters. We'd just spent time going through my wool stash and after finding everyone a ball of wool and a set of knitting needles we sat together on the couch. My eleven year old happily cast on for herself while I taught my seven year old the knit stitch. "The rabbit goes in the hole, round the back, pull her through and off." It was such a lovely feeling to be crafting together and such a perfect time of year with all the cold and rain of late.

The next time I experienced not-quite-hygge was when my girls and I were painting together. I'd set up their paints and was planning on catching up on some work or getting in a sneaky afternoon nap. Instead I pulled up a chair and began to paint. Instantly, I was absorbed in my art and felt my tension and stress melting. Being with my girls, painting side by side was so much fun. We were definitely together and cosy but we were each working on our own projects.

At first I called these moments hygge but it didn't seem quite right. So I decided to come up with a word to describe the joy of crafting together. I wanted something that sounded a little bit like hygge and that gave a nod to the all important element of craft and creation. And that's how craftyr was born.

Craftyr (pronounced craf- tir) – craft, creativity, togetherness, intent and quiet.

To craftyr, gather a group of friends or family. Everyone needs to have a something to make with their hands and be engaged in the creative process. So far my experience of craftyr has been with everyone working on the same craft but perhaps craftyr can also happen when people are making different things. Although my feeling is this may lessen that feeling of togetherness.

The atmosphere needs to be relaxed and the conversation lazy. It's the kind of conversation you can have with old friends and lovers. You know, where you can let the silence speak for itself with no need to hurry the conversation along or brag or complain. Just easy.

I'm not sure about snacks or cups of tea. I think they come after craftyr. But maybe not. Craftyr is still evolving.

So tell me, when do you craftyr? And do you have snacks while you craftyr? Is everyone working on the same project or something different? I think we could get craftyr in the dictionary if we tried hard enough!

May 11, 2017
Whittling Away

It all started six years ago with a new house, trees and my curiosity. I’d just moved from inner city Sydney to suburban Melbourne. My new-to-me suburban house came with a big garage. At the back, under a large window was an old and beaten up workbench and vice. My new “workshop”!

I did woodwork in high school, the only girl in a class of boys and have dabbled ever since. Before my own garage workshop it was mostly sanding and staining pieces of furniture or little projects like making knitting needles. With my own workbench and vice, I could start sawing timber.

I’ve always enjoyed making felt toys for my daughters. With my new workshop I branched (hehehe) out into wooden toys. Luckily for me, the people in this new neighbourhood would leave their pruned branches on the nature strip for collection. Whenever I saw a pile of branches on the road, I’d quickly pull over, turn on the blinker and shout to the kids, “Back in a minute!”. Then I’d load armfuls of wood into the boot to take home and turn into little tables and chairs for their dolls and animals. This new house was also blessed with an open fireplace so whatever didn't get sawn was used as fire wood.

After a while I started to make wooden buttons and pendants. And I began to wonder about the timber I was collecting. What tree was it from? Was it a native or introduced species? Hardwood or softwood? I really wish my high school woodwork classes had included lessons on the different types of timbers as well as excursions into nature to meet the trees and learn how to fell them. I crave a holistic approach to learning and am trying to fill in these gaps in my knowledge the best I can.

Now, I go out into nature, armed with my field guides and try to identify the tress around me. I only gather fallen branches from trees. My preference is for using native species but I’ll work with anything that the trees offer me. I’ve learnt to be choosy about the branches I select and leave the diseased or insect riddled specimens behind.

Six years after my garage workshop I’m in a flat, the workbench and vice long gone. I still manage to do woodwork only now it’s at my kitchen bench with a bench hook instead of a vice. Or more often lately, out in a park somewhere with a branch and my Mora 106 carving knife.

After last year's spoon carving mania and a big break I'm back with knife and wood in hand. Only this time I'm picking random sticks and practicing my knife skills by removing bark and working around knots. I want to sink into the technique of carving and concentrate on the process without the pressure of expectations or outcome. I want to teach myself confidence with my knife and to practice the different strokes you can use for working a knife and wood.

It's a new adventure this – making without a finished product in mind. Want to join me?

May 8, 2017
Craft Explosion

There's been a craft explosion at my place. Beeswax candle dipping, leather pouch sewing, weed foraging, salve making, needle felting and whittling. And that's just the last couple of weeks!

This time of year is the start of the making season for me. It's the time of year when the weather is drawing me indoors and telling me to slow down. My desk calls me to sit down and make. At the same time, my brain fires and fizzes with creativity and new ideas. I get the urge to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard!) and share my thoughts and experiences. My hands itch to hold something and create.

I want to feel raw materials in my hands and turn them into something new. I want to sink into the process of making. To sift through the clatter and chatter and get to the part where I'm immersed in the process. To that place where the repetitive nature of craft feels like home and soothes my soul.

True to form, I'm doing a little bit of this and a little bit of that and I love it. I admire people who can pick one craft and master it but it's just not me. There's so many cool things to make, crafts to learn and tools to buy. Why stick with one?

May 4, 2017
Sharing Passions

A couple of weeks ago I packed up my leather scraps and tools and took them to a friend’s house for an afternoon of craft. She had expressed an interest in learning leather craft and I was more than happy to spend the afternoon in her gorgeous garden, crafting together.

It was a beautiful autumn afternoon and after munching on dips and fresh fruit we headed out into the garden and the big old picnic table. I love this old, weathered table with patches of lichen and signs of years of use from a loving family. The stories that this table could tell! Now it has a story of mamas and children learning to craft together.

I had expected that we mamas would craft together while the children played in the huge garden filled with tree house, veggie patch, bee hives and bell tent. But no, they wanted to be with us, gathered around the table, playing with leather. And of course everyone wanted their very own leather pouch!

The littlest crafter was just three years old and he had a great time cutting up scraps of leather with a pair of scissors. His big sister wanted to be part of everything and using all the tools, even the sharp awls for punching holes. My oldest girl was keen to trace patterns on the leather and cut out her pieces. She’s done leather craft in the past and has a fair idea of what to do. My youngest girl was more interested in playing but was happy to sit with the group and watch while we made our pouches.

Eventually the children ran off, their need for craft satisfied while we mamas sat in the sunshine, sewing, chatting and drinking cups of tea. The peacefulness of quiet hand work with the shouts of children playing in the distance filled my soul right up. The chance to share a passion with someone I know was wonderful. I love to craft and create and it’s even better when I get to do it with good friends. Having the kids pop in and out as well was an unexpected bonus. Get ’em while they’re young I say!

Now that’s what I call a perfect afternoon – crafting outdoors with friends and children.

May 1, 2017