Standards - lowered.

Ok people, I am changing this blog's philosophy from quality to quantity. The very few people who ever comment (see below on how to comment) always say how terrific the posts are and I have gotten performance anxiety*. So, here it comes, straight off the cuff and weekly instead of whenever I get the guts.
Let's start with...me!
I get to do art here. I get to felt and have an art class and you can't swing a woma** here without hitting an artist of some ilk and it's considered perfectly normal - as most things here are.
There is a place about 80K down the Stuart Highway, then 20K down a dirt track, called Rainbow Valley. Its Aboriginal name is Wurre. It is one of the, if not THE most beautiful, peaceful, holy, stunningly magical places I have ever been. Here is a photo of Wurre.Here is my felt rendition of Wurre from someone else's photo.Here is part of the art show it's in. Oh, I made a lamp too. It's easy; I'll show you some time.The show is at Central Craft. I volunteer in the shop, but I did so even before I had stuff in it because: it's right across the street, it has really neat stuff, I get to meet people from all over Australia, I like working in retail if I'm not being paid for it, there are usually artist there, making stuff and I can watch and learn, and it's just a cool place.
"Craft" here means something more... respectable than what it does in the states. It can be lousy craft-show stuff, but it is more often wood carving, sculpture, pottery, couture, felting, enameling, jewelry, -just not painting/drawing.
My friend Emmy said she is "a craftsperson as artists tend to be a bit...er, off with the fairies."
Am not labeling myself either way.
What else I do is help at Thomas's school 2x a week. Mrs. Smith, his year-one teacher, is amazing. She has 20-odd kids every day. This one needs their shoe tied. That one has a bug bite and needs pawpaw cream. This one needs help spelling a word. That one needs help just because she likes it. This one just wants to keep sharpening pencils. Thomas has been contemplating how his workbook is put together for the last 10 minutes.
Some of the kids can't write 3-letter words; some can write whole paragraphs.
Somehow, she teaches them all something; keeps them reasonably in line and makes them want to come back.
I am in awe of people who teach 7 hours a day, then get up the next day and do it again!

Show's over, folks.
Now, look at the bottom of this post. See where it says, "0 comments" or, "2 comments?" Click on it! Now, write me a comment! Thank you. Sorry to shout.

**PS This is not meant to be an ego stroke. I would write a way better one than this. It's just to see if anyone is still reading or i need to crack some heads.

*Hey pal, thanks for sticking it out to the bottom. A "woma" is about the only snake around here that won't kill you just cuz you looked at it. It's a python that squeezes its prey against something (rock, wall, Toyota Land Cruiser) instead of wrapping its body around it (like a good, decent American constrictor would). Think, like being slammed against a wall and not let back up. Then swallowed.