Photography by Corrine: Blog https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog en-us (C) Photography by Corrine (Photography by Corrine) Fri, 26 Jun 2020 04:22:00 GMT Fri, 26 Jun 2020 04:22:00 GMT https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/img/s/v-12/u36231651-o893057186-50.jpg Photography by Corrine: Blog https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog 120 106 Fearlessly Boldly Silently (excerpt from my book) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2016/5/fearlessly-boldly-silently-excerpt-from-my-book My Beautiful Mum Yvonne left this world when she was 48 years old. I remember the last time I saw her. As I watched her walk down the street...my chest started pounding, a silent voice from deep within me, urging me to call out to her..to say.."Mum, I love You''...I didn't call it out, I watched her walking away into the distance until she disappeared. The next time I saw her was in a hospital room,  she would never recover. I was 17 years old. Always tell the people you love..you love them...always listen to your heart.. 

 


''And we ourselves shall be loved for a time while we are here, and that will have been enough.. there is a land of the living and a land of those who have gone before us, the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.'' __ Thornton Wilder.

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(Photography by Corrine) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2016/5/fearlessly-boldly-silently-excerpt-from-my-book Sun, 08 May 2016 08:19:00 GMT
Fearlessly Boldly Silently (excerpt from my book) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/12/fearlessly-boldly-silently-excerpt-from-my-book At Lenny's funeral I saw a graveyard full of little babies. It was a very sad time and for years the grief tore into my very soul...the storm turned to rain and through the dark heavy clouds appeared a rainbow. Coming through that grief in the strangest way I felt a gratitude, that is hard for anyone to understand. Lenny Storm was not to be but from that muddy fog grew in me a rose. Lenny is the essence in the gentle breeze that kisses my cheek, he is the rainbow after the rain. I held my pain lovingly and became grateful for all that it taught me, every tear shed watered a beautiful flower in my heart and I allowed that flower to grow.

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(Photography by Corrine) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/12/fearlessly-boldly-silently-excerpt-from-my-book Thu, 24 Dec 2015 05:45:27 GMT
Fearlessly Boldly Silently (excerpt from my book) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/10/fearlessly-silently-boldly One fine day you will be deeply grateful that your heart broke wide open and took everything from you. The sun will shine and touch your cheek and you will feel it's warmth like you have never felt it before.... One fine day ...

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(Photography by Corrine) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/10/fearlessly-silently-boldly Tue, 27 Oct 2015 12:48:00 GMT
Fearlessly Boldly Silently (excerpt from my book) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/8/you-are-the-moon Your heart was touched, you got to breath life, you got to feel pain and suffering, you got to feel love and joy. It was you, your destiny, your soul's journey, and when you go you will leave with all that fills your heart, you will be the moon, and when I leave I will be a star and sit beside you.

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(Photography by Corrine) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/8/you-are-the-moon Sat, 29 Aug 2015 21:33:13 GMT
Fearlessly Boldly Silently (excerpt from my book) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/4/silently-fearlessly-boldly My father was a good looking man, over 6 foot tall, very athletic. In his twenties he was a champion sprinter who won every national competition he entered. He grew up in the roaring 40's, his mother Greta was a gorgeous looking, blue eyed, red haired beauty, she was a dancer, who enjoyed her night life to the fullest. My father "Grant" had two brothers, fathered by two different men. In that era it was very risque. The boys at a young age would be left for many evenings sitting in a bar waiting for their Mum. Little is known of his father. My grandfather died before I was born, he was never spoken about.

My Father met my Mother on a sheep station in the Australian outback. Yvonne , my Mum was a book keeper. He would have seen in Mum what eluded him in his childhood, a kind, dignified beautiful looking woman , blue eyes and black hair with a heart of gold. Mum saw in him , a good looking man with the eyes of a lost child. They fell deeply in love and were married in the 50's, they had 4 children, one boy, died at birth. My fathers drinking became prominent in the early years. He carried his own abandonment into adulthood and his wound would never heal. When I was 12 years old, Mum finally left him after years of heartache.

I still looked for him in my dreams, for his approval, his attention, his love, it was always elusive.

In his mid 40's, we heard he had re-married a woman the complete opposite to my Mum, someone to share his demise. They had a little girl, her name was Mandee Jane who was tragically killed , run over by a car in the driveway of their rented apartment, more tragically, as they sat drinking on the veranda, witnessing her death. Mandee would die there in my fathers arms, blood streaming from her little face, she was 4 years old. I would often think, what chance she would have had , born into a world with two aging alcoholics.

When I was a very young woman I located my father in a Sydney Hostel for the broken, the lost, the unwanted. I will never forget the pain in his eyes..He stood out on the grass and looked up to the sky and cried "Help Me, Help Me".

Some would think his life was self inflicted, and maybe so. In every human being there is a beautiful heart , waiting for the rain, waiting to bloom, but this journey takes effort and it is a fine line between heaven and hell on this  earth. My father came into this world with nothing and that is the way he left. He suffered his entire life without understanding the peace he so desperately craved for.

I visited him just before he died, I stroked his face, held his hand tightly and told him that I loved him ....I will never forget his eyes full of pain and longing...A journey over.

My father left me a gift, he taught me forgiveness and compassion. He died at 72 years old in a broken down nursing home. Luke and I were the only ones at his funeral. During his Service there were several crows squawking outside. Black crows visit me to this very day...they sit squawking outside my window and hold an essence of my Dad.

Thank you to Prem Rawat for teaching me what I most needed to learn....and giving me the heart to see...

 

 

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(Photography by Corrine) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/4/silently-fearlessly-boldly Thu, 16 Apr 2015 04:55:05 GMT
Fearlessly Boldly Silently ( excerpt from my book) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/4/-see-you-in-the-wind-excert-from-my-book Cowra is an old county town in NSW, Australia, South West of Sydney  in the middle of no where. I lived there with my family, Mum, Dad, my brother and sister. I had a dog , her name was Sheba, she was my shadow, my playmate, my best friend. We would spend hours playing in the old cars that were left discarded on the property, our special place was under an old gum tree where we would sit together  with our invisible friends, we would wonder into the bush and lay in the long grass looking up at the clouds as they rolled by. My Dad was a traveling salesman and was never home very much, he was an alcoholic, he was not a bad man, he just had his demons that he could not face, problems he could never solve. Mum was a victim of circumstance, a beautiful gentle lady that came from an Italian Catholic background, she would wash our clothes by boiling water on the wooden stove and kept our house spotless.  When Dad did arrive home , so did his supplies of alcohol, looking back I could see pain etched on his face, he had a story to tell that was never told.  We run from pain in so many ways, through alcohol, substance abuse, relationships, fleeing from our pain removes us from our heart and we become incapable of feeling joy, some of us never can be still with ourselves, constantly running as to stand alone and face our demons is not for the weak. My parents taught me so much about life, which will unfold as my story continues. Sheba gave birth to 6 beautiful puppies, through the eyes of a child it was the most magical time for me, as they grew we would all sit out on the grassy slope each evening and feed the puppies powered milk when they were weaned. Those memories were the happiest of my childhood. One morning just after Christmas Dad put us all in the car along with Sheba and her puppies. He said they were going to a wonderful home and I could have them back when they were older. We drove several miles down a long dusty road, Dad pulled over and pointed to a house far far in the distance, that was their new home (he said). He placed Sheba and the puppies on the side of the road...he drove off...I sat peering out the back window , tears streaming down my face, my little heart bleeding, their little faces bewildered and confused...he left them behind on the side of the road. I was 4 years old. This was the first time my heart broke, my first experience of real  aching pain, their little faces would haunt me for the rest of my life and so my journey into the world began..that day.

 

To be continued

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(Photography by Corrine) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/4/-see-you-in-the-wind-excert-from-my-book Sun, 12 Apr 2015 10:00:42 GMT
Fearlessly Boldly Silently https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/4/-see-you-in-the-wind 'It seemed a long time ago, like a dream, and in reality it was, for all dreams pass , you wake up and they are no more, so this story begins from the eyes of a child.

 

To be continued...

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(Photography by Corrine) https://photographybycorrine.zenfolio.com/blog/2015/4/-see-you-in-the-wind Fri, 10 Apr 2015 10:19:52 GMT