1st day of school

Well, it's the first formal day of school, and already I've learnt so much. We've had a couple of days of orientation, and before that a week of Foundations, where there were about 300 extra people in town, or so it seemed. It's a lot quieter now.

Anyway, the online access place is only open for a short time each day and there are people who want to check their emails. Unfortunately I have problems with checking mine, so if you are expecting me to answer your email, I can't right now, 'cos I haven't read it... expect to get something sorted soon!

Like to get some photos here, maybe next time...

see ya!

here and now

Well, I've been in this town since thursday and sooooooooo much has been going on. Just to let you know I'm still alive and it's al really good! Catch up when I have more time!!
At the moment access is a bit scarce, and there's so much to say but, it's all good.
Nice town, this.

ch ch ch changes

Yes, a new look Honzablog. But then, changes is all around, as regular readers will no doubt be aware! In 2 days time I will be on my way to a new adventure, a new life in Tasmania. What's in store? God only knows... I mean, I think that this was his idea!

Anyhow, watch this space!

recent trends in white goods design

Whilst sifting through my junk I came across these old sketches of a brilliant idea I once had.

I think at the time, potbelly stoves were quite big (as in popularity, not in their physical dimensions.)

So I thought I would apply the potbelly principal to other household appliances. I looked no further than the humble refrigerator.
I though everyone could use a pot bellied fridge!




Rebelling against the notion that white goods had to be white I did my first sketch in potbelly pink. This led to the blue singlet version with the workboot feet, and a sort of eighties paint job on the body.

The more astute reader will of course realise I have these two pictures in the wrong order. The rest of you be assured there is nothing wrong with your eyes. Well, nothing that Honzablog has caused!






Following this came a more definitive Australian themed version, complete with a green and gold body with stylized kangaroos, Aussie flag, the ubiquitous blue singlet motif, and to finish it off, wearing thongs... oh, for non-Australians, read 'Flip-Flops...' (ooh that can be embarrassing!)








Of course the great thing about the potbellied fridge is all that extra storage space in the door! WOW!

I'm not sure how this feature would suit the dieter, so much more food can be stored.

Although, on the other hand, generously girthed individuals might find reaching the handle quite a challenge...



PS: for illustration Friday readers! This is your actual peice of Industrial Design concept Sketching what I did back in the eighties (when I was a mere toddler...), And it is kind of a coincidental incident that I upload this two days BEFORE the eighties topic is announced. I even mention in the original text that the design is eighties style. Not quite a Memphis fridge, but the colours would do...

All is Quiet...

on New Year's Day.

Not much to report except how easy it is to find alternatives to packing!!! These dodgy photos show Mr Clayton with his bass, and Mr The Edge and Mr Bono.

I shall stop blogging now...

Mysterious Ways...

There is a theory that time was invented to stop everything happening at once. In November there was a four week period where I felt that time had let me down and everything indeed was happening at once.

Let me list some of these events.

I guess we start on 16th of November when cancer finally took my mother.

18 November I went to see Mr Paul 'Bono' Hewson, a noted activist, champion of the poverty-stricken and the justice-deprived, friend of presidents and popes, Pavrottis and punks, and some-time lead singer of a little band called U2. One of the finest bands of this genre in the world. These are some of the photos I took with my mobile phone... we had a great spot, perhaps only 5 metres from Mr Bono and Mr The Edge when they played on the little sattelite stages. A fantastic concert.

21 November was the last class in Foundations, a short course I had been going to on every Tuesday night for a few months. It's run by Fusion and is a very worthwhile look at how to live with yourself, with others and with God.

23 November was mum's funeral.
The next two weeks were reasonably quiet until...

7 December. Fusion contact me and tell me that I have been accepted into their 6 month Intensive Certificate course in Youth and Community work. It means moving to Tasmania and getting into penniless student mode.

8 December. Dad put's on his Santa suit and goes to Boronia Mall, where he falls ill. He is rushed to the hospital, but only kept alive long enough for my brother and I to see him...

9 December, Mike Pilley who captain's my cricket team and plays trombone in the Melbourne Staff Band gives me tickets to their Christmas concert. MSB is one of the finest bands of ther genre in the world. Also sharing the stage was the a Cappella group The Idea of North, one of the finest groups of their genre in the world. A fantastic concert.

11 December, Volleyball Grand Final. We won the first two sets reasonably comfortably, but then got a little anxious and showed signs of choking when Kaylor's team won the next two... We got our act together in set five and finished the season in style! I've played volleyball in this competition every season since 1987, except for a season of basketball in '98, but that is my last game of v-ball for the forseeable future.

12 December, Dad's Rotary club's Christmas party. A month ago we were all looking forwards to going to this annual event, Penny, Allan, their three kids, me, mum, dad... six of us went and saw a bunch of very sympathetic Rotarians, and despite not buying ANY raffle tickets, we won four prizes! hmmm...

13 December, I hand in my notice at work. I've only been there since 1987, so it's no big deal really...

15 December, Dad's funeral. Mum and Dad re-united on their 44th wedding anniversary.

Since then it's been me procrastinating about packing, and getting serious about de-cluttering myself, finding homes for stuff. Anyone wanna buy some cheap stuff? Lot's of books and old Cassettes? Unbuilt model kits? Vinyl records from the eighties? (mostly played once to record to cassette, so 'as new') old clothes? call me...
I move to Poatina on Jan 18, so I really should get stuck in.

Bono sang the song Mysterious Ways that day at the Docklands Stadium. The words of the bridge mean something.

One day you'll look back
And you'll see
Where
You were held how
By this love
While
You could stand
There
And not move on this moment
Follow this feeling...

It's Alright..
We move through miracle days
Spirit moves in Mysterious Ways.

Penny doesn't know how we've made it through this period except to say that we've been held. God has given us his peace. Mum and Dad's birthday and Christmas all occurred between dec24 and dec27. Miraculously those days all passed with more joy than sadness.

And now a new year begins. A new adventure awaits. New doors open. May I have the courage to step through them and the Faith to know that God is right here with me all the way.

masks

This week's topic in Illustration Friday is Masks. I asked my 6yo neice to help me with this one. She loves drawing, and has discovered painting on the computer too, I supervised and suggested, but she did the colouring herself.

People wear masks all the time, to hide how they feel, who they really are. It seems safer, but is it? to deny your true self?

re-united...

The last few days have been surreal. Smoke from fires in the north of the state have blanketted the city in a dirty fog, the sun an alien red orb bathing us in eerie light, not bright, but intensely hot.

And my father. Since my mother died, a large part of him left too. On friday morning he went out in his Santa suit, to do that thing that he loved, but early in the afternoon, dad was re-united with mum, both now safe in the arms of Jesus.

From Fiona

Hi John, I led the service at Ashburton this morning and as we follow the Christian calandar, it was "Christ the King" Sunday, a day when we traditionally celebrate Jesus as both king and servant. I wrote one of my prayers using images that came to me on the day when we honoured the life of your Mum.
This was my prayer...

Let us pray ..

To Jesus whom we worship as King,
but who constantly comes
to us as Servant.
Jesus with sleeves rolled up ... and hands in the sink.
Jesus in gumboots ... sweeping out sheds and milking cows.
Jesus, the sign of hope in every drought...
move among us ... stand among us....
teach us to love ... teach us to serve.

You are God in human flesh,
God with human hands.
Open our hearts;
Fill our lives with your compassion.
As we bring our lives as a daily offering...
to Jesus Christ,...
our Servant King.
Amen.

(Let us stand to sing, "The Servant King".)

eulogy

Major Lorna Cooper. Bill Cooper's missus. The lady at the shop. the tea-lady's daughter, radioactive Nan, My mum...

What can I tell you about my mum that you might not know? She was the first of four children born into a dairy farming family in the western districts of Victoria, and grew up in Warrnambool, a practical, down-to-earth country girl. Through Salvation Army Youth Councils she met a certain young Ballarat lad called Bill, and a friendship was struck up. Actually the story goes that there were two Bills but the other Bill realised that it wasn't to be, because he destined to go to Officer Training College and she wasn't. Ironically, that Bill never made it to college, but mum did, a year or two after dad, the Ballarat Bill, had been there.

Mum and Dad applied through the correct channels to be engaged, and after getting the okay from the Army, Mum was promptly transferred to Tasmania. Despite it's faults, mum loved the Salvation Army and the opportunities it gave her to serve.

Eventually they got married, and not too long later I came along. At that time we were living at the Mt Barker Boys Home in South Australia, it was a dairy farm, but the lady officers were not supposed to be involved with the cows at all. I don't clearly remember, but I'm sure mum wasn't too impressed by that. She still had plenty to do though. On the day we came home from hospital she ironed the shirts for 50 boys while I was watched over in the bassinette by a golden haired retriever. She was not the sort to sit idly while there was work to be done, mum had a strong sense of duty.

During a short break from Army service, Allan was born in Warrnambool, and then we were back into it. The life of an officer of that era involved a good deal of travelling and a variety of appointments; boys and children's homes, corps in the inner city of Adelaide and in country South Australia. Then there was 5 years in Melbourne and seven in Perth. In Perth, Mum set up about a dozen new thrift stores for the Army, showing the staff by example how to run a store, and when they knew what to do, she opened up another.

Finally mum and dad were transferred to The Basin Farm where they retired early due to dad's health problems. Not that they ever really retired, there was always things that they could and did do.

As boys we didn't really enjoy mum's occassional sermons. Yes, they were much shorter than when dad preached, but she always told anecdotes about 'her boys...' Anyway, mum's strengths were always more on the practical side of officership, working alongside people and showing by her example. No-one better exemplified how to be a servant and yet still be a leader. She could take charge, yet still the country girl was there with the common touch, showing the men at the farm how to milk cows, how to herd them at 5 in the morning. She was not scared of dirt on her hands, or mud on her boots, and she quickly earned their respect.

She was very particular about being punctual, unlike the rest of the family. To get us on time for things she had every clock in the house set ten minutes fast. Of course, we knew the clocks were wrong and we were still late! She was also the organiser. If my brother and I were going on a youth camp, she would always make sure we packed more than we could possibly need, but we never forgot anything!

Mum never really learnt to cook, fortunately dad did, or we would've starved! I think her best recipe was probably packet Macaroni Cheese and Fish fingers... She had a sweet tooth though she tried to deny it.

Mum spent a lot of the last twenty years caring for dad with one ailment or another, dad has had fragile health, and so Easter Sunday 2000 was a big shock for us, mum in hospital and close to death. But she was a fighter, and wanted to see her first grand child. When she was finally realeased from hospital in the June, we took her to visit one day old Bella on her way home. She was a proud and doting nanna who got to see not just one but three grand kids. The first time that she allowed Bella to eat her sweets before she finished her main course Allan and I were in shocked horror! She never let US get away with that!

As soon as she was able, she was back at work at the corps shop, she loved being busy. However in the last few months the cancer finally got the better of her. She tried to hide it, and carry on, I don't any of us really knew how sick she was until near the end. And yet she didn't want us to worry, we won't ever know how much pain she was in, she tried not to show it, probably the greater pain was not being able to work as she had. Even in hospital she tried to be helpful and assist the nursing staff with watching over the other patients in her ward.

Mum's favorite bible passage (Php 1:19-26) deals with Paul's dilemma, on one hand wanting to be with Jesus in Heaven, on the other hand, knowing that there is still much work to be done serving Jesus on this Earth. Mum was born to serve, and now has recieved her 'well done, Good and Faithful Servant' . No more tears, no more pain. She knew where she was going and died at peace and with a smile on her face.

There'll be an empty seat at the hall on Sunday and some one else will have to take up the offering. But in heaven there is one who is probably right now trying to teach the angels to play the timbrel.

forwards to the battle

Found this image in the 1935 Christmas Warcry (Australian Edition), and played with it a bit on my poor old 'puter, adding a touch of colour, etc.
Echos of Communist Proaganda posters in it's composition, but I like that about it.
What do you think, Fiery Prophet, whoever you are!

there's a red moon on the rise...

This happy looking gent is Count Zinzendorf. Just recently I have discovered that this long-dead German aristocrat has been stalking me for a few years... Well, maybe not, but I am becoming aware of his influence. Back in July 1999 I visited the Czech Republic, mostly in the Moravian area. We came across a statue in tribute to the Moravian Church which despite depicting a man holding a Bible overhead, survived many years of a Communist political system. Read a very ill-informed blog and see a photo here.
When i wrote this entry earlier this year, I had no idea that i would actually be spending a day and a night in Zinzendorf's village, a place called Herrnhut, the site of the hundred and twenty odd years of non-stop prayer I alluded to, and the inspiration of the 24-7 prayer movement I also alluded to (without any real knowledge about either) .
Herrnhut is a very nice little village in the sth east corner of Germany within sight of the Czech Republic and Poland. Young Count Zinzendorf allowed Moravians who were being persecuted in their own country to settle here in the 1720's, and the village they built has a significant place in Church history, history that is still being written.
And then a few weeks ago my friend Daniela in Berlin suggested I read a book called Red Moon Rising by Peter Greig. I popped into Word Bookstore on my way to ACC at Box Hill Salvos (see my blog of Sept 29 - easy to find, it's only two blogs back...), but I didn't spot it on the shelves there. Probably they had it but I didn't bother asking.
The next day at ACC, Major Brendan Nottle from Melbourne 614 got up to do his annual rant on the state of the Army (not to be missed!) and in the middle of it read out something called the Vision which challenged us all. Actually had lunch with Brendan just after that, he introduced me to John Cleary (ABC Radio Religion journo and Salvo historian who also joined us) as his star Face Painter, I had my first go at Face Painting at the Rugby World Cup in Brendan's team, and it was in some ways through that I went to Germany to the football World Cup to paint faces and found myself for a day in Herrnhut. (incidentally football first came to Germany with English students who wanted to study under the Moravians IN Herrnhut! Herrnhut, the birthplace of German Football!!! True!! And I was there during the German World Cup!!! How cool is that!! Didn't get to any games, but saw the birthplace which few people knew about - even the Moravians themselves till the Football Assoc pointed it out.)
Anyway, I digress. Somehow, during the next week I discover that the Vision was also written by Pete Greig, and now I had to get his book! I picked it up the following Saturday at Koorong Books on my way to play cricket (first game of the season and we won! yay us!). That night, co-incidentally a red moon DID rise, it was the full Harvest moon, and it seemed to reinforce that I really had to read the book.
So what is Red Moon Rising all about? It's the story of the beginning of the 24-7 Prayer movement (previously alluded to), and how did it start? Where did the idea come from? Pete Greig was touring around Europe, and en-route to the Czech Republic from Germany found himself in Herrnhut, and discovering Zinzendorf. Greig tried 24-7 prayer out in his church in England and the results were impressive. Others tried it too and now the 24-7 prayer thing is all over the World, and the Salvation Army is quite a big part of it. Greig helped launch a German branch of 24-7 prayer by taking a bunch of young Dresden Goth Christians to Herrnhut and I would've loved to have been there for that!
After reading the book (it took only three days) I loaned it to Danny, my officer (minister/pastor guy to non-Salvos) as I know that Prayer is his thing. He has only read the first 40 pages but has already put it into his top ten Christian books, and this morning preached a bit on the Order of the Mustard Seed, in 1715, aged just 15, Zinzendorf and 4 friends first formed the group which became the Order of the Mustard Seed. And there is another thing that Zinzendorf started so long ago and is now experiencing a re-birth. The basis of the OMS? True to Christ, Kind to People, Gospel to the Nations.

So, what has all this got to do with me? Dunno, maybe God is saying I should pray more...
Or should I stop looking for these silly little co-incidences that pop up? What do you think?