This is the place for a red painted tugboat...

and this is the life for me! I came over all Scuffy the Tugboat a couple of weeks ago as we put the finishing touches on our caravan and annex arrangement at Queenscliff in anticipation of nine glorious nights beside the seaside. We stayed in the same park I had my summer holidays in as a whipper snapper, in the same aluminium Millard van with it's mint green stripe along the side. Thanks Mum.
I am, by nature, rather prone to bouts of deep reminiscence and upon getting that first whiff of sea air mingled with the aroma of musty canvas I was instantly transported. Upon returning from the ice cream shop with the two kids, it was with great relief that I found the annex assembled and van ready to settle in to. If you've ever wrangled tens of metres of heavy canvas and accompanying poles in to something resembling an annex, you'll appreciate it when I say, "marriage saved!"
I think the most glorious moment of a holiday is that which sees the opening of the first holiday beer, or the pouring of the first holiday wine. It signals that we've officially arrived at our destination and as far as the eye can see are days of happy holidaying. My late Dad always appreciated this moment and I would like to think that as I took those first few sips of red from my very best plastic picnic cup, he was with us. Because, through our caravan radio came the dulcet but daggy tones of Dire Straits. It was a moment straight from K Rock circa 1989. Too cool.
Many of our holidays take the form of a choose your own adventure. I'll sit in my $7 camping chair of an evening, trawling through those glossy tourist books proposing to my husband which fun and exciting activities we should fill our days with.  Imagine my voice, high pitched with a slight hyperventilating quality, sprouting, "Look, honey, on Tuesday we can visit the rotary art show then on Wednesday I'd really like to take the kids to the free craft activities in the park and if we can fit a sleep in straight after that we'll have time to get our bums to the twilight amateur theatre production of Cats for a gold coin donation. CHEAP AND FUN!!" After a couple of days of this, we all tend to end up burnt out and fighting and looking nothing like the cheery faces you see careering down water slides on the front of those brochures. This holiday was thankfully nothing like that. Having a longer time frame, in a place I know like the back of my hand, went a long way to avoiding the usual hyper holiday.
You know you're relaxed when the best you can manage regarding the days schedule is, get dressed, read books, have a wine. After a jolly visit from Santa my holiday bag was a few new cookbooks heavier. Yay! Not to mention that being on holidays induces in me the sheer inability to resist purchasing more reading material. I love those beach newsagents and, after buying a couple of magazines and another book (the very beautiful Spaces by Frankie magazine) the newsagents probably love me, too. So at every glorious afternoon kiddie nap time I would align myself in a cheery patch of sun in my trusty cheepo chair and sit, and sit, and sit.
After some more happy times spent idling along the beach, redirecting my daughter away from drowning herself and stuffing our faces with fish and chips and the best ice creams in the world (get ye to the Scandinavian ice cream shop in the main street of Queenscliff) we embarked on the miserable task of packing up and heading home. As sad as this part of the holiday is, I'm happy to report that I'm in a fresh new frame of mind now. A trully relaxing holiday is very powerful. It seems to have made all the minor irritations fade away and life is no longer so frantic. I suppose as 2011 gets out of first gear into second and then third things will start to get busier and the stress will creep back in. At this point, as I absorb some much longed for sunshine after LOTS of rain I will quietly vow to myself to hold on to that holiday vibe as long as I can and go easy on the clutch so those gear changes are nice and smooth.

I found these cute little leather bound books for the bargain price of four dollars at a market down the beach and when I'm in holiday mode my creative energy is not tied to anything particular so I can express and experiment freely without the underlying need to produce something constructive and usable. The epitome of art for art's sake. It helps me in my buntyandsars work too. I did a little bit of life drawing towards the end of last year and it had much the same effect. It enabled me to get back to my drawing roots and build my skills, resulting in works of no other particular value. Very liberating.
As the buntyandsars bus gets back on the road and I start to anticipate some markets and develop some new directions I think I'll try to build in more of this drawing for joy where I can. It's therapeutic and makes what you see at buntyandsars just that bit better. And hey, if I'm going to continue in my ultimate pursuit of illustrating a children's book, me thinks getting a decent folio of drawing together is probably important.