India Flint, Australia’s best-loved Prophet of Bloom,
“maker of marks, forest wanderer & tumbleweed, stargazer & stitcher, botanical alchemist & string twiner, working traveller, dreamer, sax player and occasional poet”
squidges along the riverbank at Fife like a sandpiper, her sack filling with shells and tchotchkes rolled back and forth by the bulge and nuzzle of the tides…then it’s back to the studio like a vodianaya (river daughter and water spirit)—to bind books, stitch robes, and lower bundles of fabric and rusty metal into bubbling dye pots.
In this quiet, peace full video by Tracey McConnell-Wood she is “learning to read the river, but nowhere near fluency, yet”.
This lullaby of wind and tide lulls me to calm; I want to kiss her beautiful, dirty, reed- and woad-stained hands.