I have known June since 1994, when we were both writers at the International Young Playwrights Festival. Over 25 countries were represented, and June was one of only four playwrights invited from Australia.
Then and now, June’s work has been exciting and innovative. She is both an accomplished poet, and prose writer. She has a unique artistic, educational, and cultural background that allows her to explore both Indigenous and women’s issues.
June’s elegant writing is grounded in aching realities of daily life, motherhood, and Indigenous issues. June writes, “I see a saw reminds me of me Dad / cuttin’ the wood / and me brother’s markin’ out / where the trees to fall / an’ it’s the kinda / day you wanna write about / walkin’ past middens / Koori kitchens to childhood / kitchens nostalgic with tears.”
June is the type who has always done it all – raising a family, while getting a Ph.D. and working various jobs to contribute to her family’s income.
As a former playwriting fellow at Harvard University’s Radcliffe Institute, I have been in the “think tank” environment, and thus know June has the personality to encourage, bond, and interact with her peers. She is also a community educator, who has trained at tertiary level, so she is able to convey her thoughts and ideas to others very easily.
I give June my highest recommendation.
Aurorae, Hollywood, United States.
(Further details of referees provided upon request)
Monday, February 20, 2006
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Compilation of quotes from Visitors to Archives in the Land
Dear Pearlz,
It looks wonderful. I like the way you say that every bit of land is an
archive; and that the tree is within me and I am within the tree (A higher
concept of oneness!)
- Ananthan , Sydney.
I checked out your website with the Archives of the land, and Talking to trees. It is beautiful!
I found it very inspiring, and felt the urge to paint!
I thought i can't go on holidays now, is have to paint!!!!
I really liked "here in this tree", almost like it is put to music. (Simon and Garfunkel could make a catchy tune out of it i am sure), But all the other poetry is really nice too.
It made me visualize the light of the sun shimmering through the nice green leaves of the summer trees.
That is good because it is still cold here and the trees are without leaves.
The daffodils have only just stuck out their tiny cold noses out of the soil and await warmer times ....
- Paulien, Netherlands
Thank you very much for sending me your exhibition it is really inspiring!! And the whole page is so well done. the children and their boots look great! I will pass it around to friends if this is OK with you.
- Velda, Townsville.
"Pleasing to the eye. quite impressive and should be quite popular in Baha'i internet circles and other places as well here in Australia and overseas." - Ron, Tasmania.
"Lovely works!!! It brought what was missing to my lonely day"
- Farid, Sydney.
"It looks like you are enjoying your new environment and finding time to be creative in it. "
- Karen, Brisbane.
I've taken a quick look at the exhibition on the blog and love the gumboots, etc.Do you mind if I put a link to your blog on the ....... website on the 'Toplinks' page" I also have some friends who I know would love to see it.
- Sharon, New South Wales
These are beautiful collages, highly evocative. They sing.
- Ingereth
Poetic Review of Archives in the Land
Diligent Indolence
a poetic review of Archives in the land a blog
By Ron Price
So often, when I go to art galleries, I get sleepy and all the talent, all the art is wasted on my eyes as I fall asleep in a chair leaving my wife or perhaps a friend to walk around the said gallery by themselves. It could be some visual disability that I possess; perhaps it is a problem with spaces. I've never really figured it out. The main function of TV for me, sad to say, is as a mild sedative. My brain begins to shut off while my wife is getting turned on. That's okay for after many hours with print my brain wants to turn off. The affect of my poetry on many others often induces sleep. I understand that. Different horses for different courses. Sleep is as essential to life as art.
One must write, one must engage in artistic work, with one's eyes on something inner as well as someone outer. I find visuals on the internet, at sites like Pearlz, much more stimulating. I don't have to walk anywhere and try to enage on a distant painting. And I don't get sleepy. I can breathe the fresh Tasmanian air coming in my window beside my computer here in Australia's oldest town. I can read some words, see some photos, some art, some colour. I can spend 5 minutes or an hour at the site. I'm in control, well, at least partly. The mix is good. The mind can engage.
The following prose-poem is a description of my engagement with Pearlz’s artistic collage some four hours ago.
Diligent Indolence
Perhaps this is some of that
diligent indolence that Keats
said was necessary for poetry
to emerge in gentle self-surrender
to the savouring of days past,
days to come and thought's gold.
Sitting, standing, breathing
here at this online gallery
letting the space, the photographs,
the forms, the varied shapes,
the words, bounce off my
sensory emporium like art
works around the walls
of an art gallery: people
I hardly know come to life:
a beauty, a freshness, a newness.
I try to get eye to engage mind,
but without much success.
Worlds are here but still-born,
to my mind, my tabula rasa.
What can I say? think? do?
Surely this is not just to enjoy?
”Just enjoy”, said the muse:
the smoothest of smooth worlds,
beautiful people, young, very young,
they pop up and up and down and down
and I stroll by with my eye trying to catch
with some of my quiet moments
some of their vitality from their young,
persistent faces bubbling over with life.
She is so beautiful, a thing unto herself,
something magic, deserves at least
a nomination for this work in this place
at some future Internet Academy Wards.
Created, partly, by genetic evolution,
DNA , in a process we are just beginning,
just, to understand. Such beauty, real life,
can be transferred to a wall, a website
and to your heart, that is usually slow.
So much space, order, regularity here,
evenness. I hesitate to send my “little”
poems onto these bright pages, my pieces
with their own regularities and evennesses
where the eyes, too, must engage the mind.
Who will stroll by my work?
who will try and sit and read?
Smiling with “what do you think
of this dear?” Who will sleep,
as I sleep, with my poetry laid out
before me on my bed of ease?
Who will read and watch these
images fly by in gay profusion?
Someone said there are several
trillion sites now for all of us
part of the unparalleled character
of the coming world civilization.
Well, here is one part,
one small part, sweet and young
and so very beautiful to defy
definition or description.
Are my words over the top?
Perhaps.
Ron Price
February 1st 2006
Ron Price has a strong interest in publishing on the internet as well as other forms. A couple of collection of many links is provided below.
http://www.writers.net/writers/36722
http://www.buzzle.com/authors.asp?author=805
a poetic review of Archives in the land a blog
By Ron Price
So often, when I go to art galleries, I get sleepy and all the talent, all the art is wasted on my eyes as I fall asleep in a chair leaving my wife or perhaps a friend to walk around the said gallery by themselves. It could be some visual disability that I possess; perhaps it is a problem with spaces. I've never really figured it out. The main function of TV for me, sad to say, is as a mild sedative. My brain begins to shut off while my wife is getting turned on. That's okay for after many hours with print my brain wants to turn off. The affect of my poetry on many others often induces sleep. I understand that. Different horses for different courses. Sleep is as essential to life as art.
One must write, one must engage in artistic work, with one's eyes on something inner as well as someone outer. I find visuals on the internet, at sites like Pearlz, much more stimulating. I don't have to walk anywhere and try to enage on a distant painting. And I don't get sleepy. I can breathe the fresh Tasmanian air coming in my window beside my computer here in Australia's oldest town. I can read some words, see some photos, some art, some colour. I can spend 5 minutes or an hour at the site. I'm in control, well, at least partly. The mix is good. The mind can engage.
The following prose-poem is a description of my engagement with Pearlz’s artistic collage some four hours ago.
Diligent Indolence
Perhaps this is some of that
diligent indolence that Keats
said was necessary for poetry
to emerge in gentle self-surrender
to the savouring of days past,
days to come and thought's gold.
Sitting, standing, breathing
here at this online gallery
letting the space, the photographs,
the forms, the varied shapes,
the words, bounce off my
sensory emporium like art
works around the walls
of an art gallery: people
I hardly know come to life:
a beauty, a freshness, a newness.
I try to get eye to engage mind,
but without much success.
Worlds are here but still-born,
to my mind, my tabula rasa.
What can I say? think? do?
Surely this is not just to enjoy?
”Just enjoy”, said the muse:
the smoothest of smooth worlds,
beautiful people, young, very young,
they pop up and up and down and down
and I stroll by with my eye trying to catch
with some of my quiet moments
some of their vitality from their young,
persistent faces bubbling over with life.
She is so beautiful, a thing unto herself,
something magic, deserves at least
a nomination for this work in this place
at some future Internet Academy Wards.
Created, partly, by genetic evolution,
DNA , in a process we are just beginning,
just, to understand. Such beauty, real life,
can be transferred to a wall, a website
and to your heart, that is usually slow.
So much space, order, regularity here,
evenness. I hesitate to send my “little”
poems onto these bright pages, my pieces
with their own regularities and evennesses
where the eyes, too, must engage the mind.
Who will stroll by my work?
who will try and sit and read?
Smiling with “what do you think
of this dear?” Who will sleep,
as I sleep, with my poetry laid out
before me on my bed of ease?
Who will read and watch these
images fly by in gay profusion?
Someone said there are several
trillion sites now for all of us
part of the unparalleled character
of the coming world civilization.
Well, here is one part,
one small part, sweet and young
and so very beautiful to defy
definition or description.
Are my words over the top?
Perhaps.
Ron Price
February 1st 2006
Ron Price has a strong interest in publishing on the internet as well as other forms. A couple of collection of many links is provided below.
http://www.writers.net/writers/36722
http://www.buzzle.com/authors.asp?author=805
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