All posts by : Rene Bahloo

Not sure how I feel, not sure what to think. I am so grateful to be here with my mom right now. I am amazed at the synchronicities that brought me to be here, and the story that has been (and still is) unfolding so beautifully. And my sculpture that is being woven alongside, intertwining all our lives with amazing metaphor and symbol . But this morning, from about 5.30am, I found myself cuddling next to my dad as his heart slowly fluttered to a halt. We think he had died a little while before in terms of brain death, he was so white and still, but his heart still prevailed. It was a peaceful passing. No more does he fight for every scrap of breath that kept him alive. But I feel so deeply sad.

Last night, I finished weaving the shape of the figure for my sculpture – what’s that? Dad had asked me just a few days ago. ‘It’s the shape of a body traversing the void, in the flow of the unfolding energy of creation’, I told him. Like it’s showing us how to navigate transitional spaces. On our back, arms softly to the side, head facing the direction of the flow – a position of total surrender.

In your philosophy, he asked me, how do I navigate this? Indicating his extreme laboured breathing and rapidly failing body. The challenge of facing the unknown, and the anxiety that came with that.

‘You surrender to the flow’ I told him. You notice your experience with curiosity, without judgement, one moment at a time. You practice the muscle of mindfulness. And I showed him how. And you know what? He tried it. Doggedly. Often stopping between breaths to clarify a point. ‘I practice being ok with how I’m feeling?’

I think I helped him let go, without realising that what he was letting go of was his attachment to his life, and his body.

Last night I finished weaving the figure. He kept asking – are you finished it? ‘Not yet, dad, ten centimetres to go still.’ Then… ‘I’ve finished!!!’ What’s that thread sticking out there? He asked. That’s to wrap around the join when I install the finished piece.

‘Oh.’

Then we had dinner, got ready for bed. ‘Love you!’ I told him. Me too he said. I mean I love you too, he joked. See you tomorrow, I said.

Tomorrow became today… and today we….

Said goodbye as he left his body to traverse the void.

It is with deep respect and honour that I share this with you, for my dad and for the exquisitely beautiful gift of life (and death) that we are given. These pictures are a reflection of how much I love my dad, always will, and how much gratitude I feel to have the relationship with him that I do. And my mom. It is in deep gratitude to the magical universe that I traverse with all its quirks and depths, that I lay down on my back and ride the waves of experience, in surrender.

#throughthehollowlog

Sit with me, close your eyes… This mission in Africa is a six week trip to facilitate the unfolding of a creative project called ‘Sit with me, close your eyes (Breathe).’ Imagine creating an art piece through the course of three festivals while teaching and demonstrating weaving techniques. Three very different festivals – a Kalahari desert culture festival, a consciousness festival and… Afrika burn. Bushman culture, contemporary spirituality and then… art in the desert, where the piece will be installed as an interactive art piece.

The installation will consist of a life-sized figure, woven from natural fibres, sitting cross-legged with hands on knees, staring out to the distance. A sign with the word “breathe”, written in wood, will be positioned directly in line with the figure’s (and the viewer’s) gaze, about eight to ten metres away.

Alongside the figure will lie a number of woven mats/cushions as an unspoken invitation for viewers to actively participate in the artwork. The name of the work itself will serve as a worded invitation (Sit with me, close your eyes). Tibetan bowl and /or bells and possibly a didjeridoo will accompany the meditating practice by providing clear and focused sonic cues.

Participants will be invited to weave additional mats for them sit on next to the sculpture, too.

I’ve had the armature made, an inner frame, a core. It’s been to the Kalahari already with me. Well, the legs have, anyway! The idea is that it goes to these places and grows as it travels, the more people it meets, the more it grows and changes. And I take photos of it as it changes and becomes whole.

Right now, I’m sitting in a place called Waterval Boven, at Michael Tellinger’s Stone Circle retreat, getting ready for the inaugural Ubuntufest. It’s going to be wild! Mind-opening, definitely. Art, music, consciousness. ubuntufest.org.za. Fibre sourcing and harvesting tomorrow is on the cards, in Michael’s old Corolla. Then… to find the local traditioanl weavers if they are here, and to organise the setting up of a weaving area for the festival.

Come with me on my journey, in pictures and words. Lets share the growth together.

Jamie recently spent a week on the Sunshine Coast in a project organised by Rene Bahloo, of Weavery. What a beautiful experience it was to share time with this traditional knowledge holder from Arnhem Land and to learn about the making and playing of the didjeridoo. They call this ceremonial instrument ‘ganbark’ in the central arnhem Dalabon language, other names are yidaki, bambu, muhgool and just plain ‘stick’. It is made from the naturally termite-hollowed trunk of a particular species and shape of eucalyptus tree, then sanded and shaped to length for the level of sound desired. Jamie Ah Fat learned to play the ganbark from ceremony leader David Blanasi and the traditional cultural group White Cockatoo, and had his debut at the first Barunga Festival of indigenous culture in the early 1970’s. White Cockatoo were the  group of traditional knowledge holders and ceremony men who had travelled all the way to London in 1970 to play for the queen of England, on her birthday. David Blanasi was known for many years in the Arnhem Land region as the mago style didj master, and his crafting and playing skills were legendary. Jamie inherited much of the knowledge he holds through ceremony and through the mentoring of his maternal grandfather, Fred Blitner.

This cultural sharing project with Jamie Ah Fat is the first to touch our Sunshine Coast shores, and served as a taster for Jamie who is fuelled to share his knowledge before he leaves this earth and his knowledge gets lost.

The Regional Arts Development Fund (RADF) is a partnership between the Queensland Government and Sunshine Coast Council to support local arts and culture in regional Queensland.

An amazing thing happened during the course of our workshops – an impromptu collaboration/ music jam between Jamie Ah Fat and Velvet Pesu (singer and performance artist), a weaving workshop participant present on the day – just listen to this ! And it then became a performance at the Powerhouse in Brisbane, which resulted in this! 

We are happy to discuss future projects and collaborations in order to bring this experience and knowledge to your community.

The Regional Arts Development Fund (RADF) is a partnership between the Queensland Government and Sunshine Coast Council to support local arts and culture in regional Queensland.