Full moon 2011 © Katrina Newman

I was visited by a poltergeist early this morning as I wrote my blog.  I was sitting calmly, as I reached the quintessential moment of publishing when the smoke alarm rang out loudly in the lounge room directly adjacent to my studio and computer.  It scared the hell out of me to think that there might have been a fire. I jumped up startled, immediately reacting angrily when I saw there was no smoke or fire, I blamed my partner who is always at me to go to bed instead of sitting and enjoying the peacefulness of the evening. This night was particularly pleasant as I felt the cool change arrive after several days of temperatures in excess of 32 degrees, it’s been hot and sweaty and unpleasant.  In recent days my partner wants to keep the windows open and I want to shut them and put the air-conditioner on 26. 26 what’s wrong with 26 I ask? It’s not exigent. It’s not like I’m looking for 23 or 22.  It’s just to be slightly more comfortable, so I could continue to function normally around the house instead of feeling ineffective as I have been.  I walked around quietly, almost tip-toeing on my feet that would otherwise send some rather uncool heavy vibrations through the floor so that I could remain tranquil and cool alone in the evening with my dog, my guardian beside the open door, where she occasionally growled at the passing Australian nightlife that might include ringtailed possums, bushy-tailed possums, koalas, owls and other exciting creatures.

I have often thought there might be a spirit in this house that isn’t really a very old house; it was built about in the 50’s. I have thought I may have previously heard laughter or a child running up the hall.  It’s a seaside holiday house that has become a permanent home.

As it was, my partner denied from the bed that he had played with the detector to spring me into the action of sleeping; an unlikely result.  It only saw me return to my computer and produce this next edition for my blog in an attempt to soulage the rush that I felt when I heard the alarm sound.

It was on the evening of the 25 January that I went out to see if I could catch a glimpse of the Aurora Australis, the southern lights illuminated by recent solar flares and radiation storms. I sat and stared out to sea and into the surrounding night sky, as some other people I found along the way were doing.  It was a cool night with a southerly wind blowing.  The stars were magnificent. One in particular appeared to be beckoning me, flashing at me occasionally, speaking to me.  Crazy.  Then I noticed a delicate haze in the air that lit up into a deep red colour.  It was not the Aurora; it was though beautiful and special.  The lights on Phillip Island blinked and flashed in a cacophony of greens and reds and whites, subtracting from the darkness of the night.  The cold was biting too deeply for this time of year and Izzy my faithful companion was demanding we leave.  We made our way back along the small gravel path and onto the bitumen. I felt a shadow behind me. I looked down at my dog expecting her to react and turn to notice something uneasy as I did about the night, but she appeared unaffected.  I turned and there was nothing, nothing except the shadow on my back, a shadow somewhat symbolic.  The sky had spoken to me. It encouraged me to reach out to create to be bold to be more expressive.  I’m spooked a little about what I felt that night but if I keep my feet pointed in the right direction I can leave the shadow behind.

The front door creaked (it needs a good oil) and the bedroom door slammed shut at least 2 times, I can’t imagine why my partner did not react himself angry at the disturbance, the wind whipped up around and through the house.  It was a productive night.

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