Nothing more can be said - this is my ABC3 Application
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Sydney put on a beautiful display of weather yesterday. Not a cloud is site; the harbour was calm, charming and begging to be played with. So what better activity to do, than paddle a kayak to Nelson’s Bay and down a couple of beers and bite into a burger. My friend, Mat a visitor from overseas was ready and rocking for a ride in the harbour. We set out from Rose Bay, renting the kayaks from the boat shed. Our original idea was to paddle to Watson’s Bay, but by the time we made it to Milk Beach (40 minutes) we thought our exercise for the day was done. We hid our kayaks under a tree and walked to Nelsons. It’s a beautiful 15 minute coastal walk to the next beach. At the local café we had the most delicious lunch. The seagulls were squawking, mums and bubs walking the promenade in bikinis and tourists jollying along. We sat and watched the waves splash effortlessly against the sand. When the day was over, it felt like we’d spent an afternoon hanging out by the French Rivera. It was a little chic on the cheap.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Being missed is a wonderful feeling. What isn’t wonderful - is missing a delicious dinner with best friends. Although, this happened some months ago, I’m still incrediblely touched by what my best friends did. At the beginning of this year, only weeks after returning to Australia, I logged onto Facebook to see I had been tagged in a photo. When I opened the link I was startled! There was a drawing of me. It was the most beautiful gesture anyone has ever done for me. The image was just like me, with coloured in blue eyes and pink lips. My good friends from the International Herald Tribune had cooked a feast and wanted to include me somehow. Even though I was a million miles away. There were photos of me at the table, eating desert and drinking wine! I felt like I was part of the action. At the time I was looking for a job in Sydney. So I spent many hours sitting in cafes jazzing up my resume. Every waiter that brought me coffee was privy to seeing these photos on Facebook. One guy liked it so much, he asked for my number! I want to thank my smart, generous and funny friends who truly are the best a girl could ask for!
** Cuddly Ciara is a staff blogger here
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
There is nothing like waking up to goose-bump good news. The moment Barack Obama was elected it was like the world changed forever. It was a moment in time that needed to be stored. Interning at the International Herald Tribune in Paris at the time, it allowed me as an Australian to appreciate the experience on an entirely uplifting and unique level. I was surrounded by Barack Obama loving Americans. It's not often that news breaks which sends Reporters, Journalists, Copy Editors and Bureau Chiefs into complete and utter bubbling excitement.
In an attempt to treasure this moment, I had the newspapers from this historic day framed. One day when I'm old and gray they'll hang on the walls in my study and I'll say to my grandchildren "I was working on that paper the day the world changed forever!"
A couple of days ago I was looking through my diary from my first few days at the International Herald Tribune. I thought I'd include a snippet below.
"Entering The International Herald Tribune, on first glance is like entering a home of aging geriatrics. Grey haired men, with slopping bifocals are hunched over their computers, tapping away on keys like their life depends on it. One particularly old man with a protruding bump on his bald head - sits in the corner, coughing loudly. I’m waiting for a nurse to pop out of a door and bring him his medication. But, this I discover is not rare here at the IHT. Through the summer months of July to September, ‘Summer Soldiers’, retired employees from the New York Times voyage over and work at Parisian head quarters, while the ‘usual suspects’ take vacation.Over my couple of weeks here at IHT, I have come to adore these old men. They bring a rich journalistic history to the paper, which I probably wouldn’t have been privy to otherwise. Nor, would I find a younger editor with the time to tell me the stories these men share. One of my favorites is Irv Molotsky, an endearing man in his mid-70’s, who reminds me of Mr Beaver from the Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. Irv gushes with delight when I come to give him the paper ‘dummies’. He’s been retired for 12 years, and been a ‘Summer Soldier’ for most of that time. A visit to him downstairs is like a trip back in time, hearing snippets about journalism life as a young man in New York city. But IHT isn’t all about octogenarians and random observations like the A4 size picture of George Clooney on the notice board reading the International Herald Tribune on his yacht in the South of France. It’s an experience like no other – a learning curve so high that I’m scared to jump off. With each day, new surprises and circumstances arise – they hit me like a hurricane, with just enough time to stand up and recover, there is already something new to learn. With barely enough time to catch my breath, I’m on the next stage of my 6-month internship here. Each day starts out at 3.30pm with half an hour to get prepared for the official news meeting for the day. This meeting pretty much determines what the paper will be producing over the next 5 hours. May I add the tightest deadline I have ever had to work to. The meeting starts with Marty Gottlieb (usually) giving an encouraging speech and raising the moral of the team. I’ve sat in on a few news meeting rooms before, but I have never seen a Global Editor like this who has such respect and admiration for the people he is managing. The feelings are obviously mutual. I noticed this when recently one of the News Editors retired and throughout his farewell speech he kept glancing at Marty and tears where in his eyes. Marty is warm, friendly and a quintessential New York Editor. He comes to work every day looking like he's walked out of the film All the President’s Men. He makes the perfect team, working along side Alison Smale, the Editor. She was declared by the Times as one of the most influential Editors in Europe. Her experiences as a journalist are unbelieveable and ore inspiring. Her resume spans the documentation of the fall of Communism in the Soviet bloc and the Czechoslovakian revolution that made Vaclav Havel president, to name just a few. Just being in these offices is special, from seeing how the pages are churned out and from watching how last minute changes can determine an increase in sales for that day. It’s exciting, yet raw and real. Although I have not had the opportunity (nor the time) to write (yet), I feel that I am in the right place and stand in good stead for when the time is right. There are parts of the web, which interns are encouraged to contribute to and the younger employees (yes – there are some!) are really helpful and optimistic. It’s great to be in a place that really has its finger on the pulse and some of the best writers/editors in the world working for it."
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
I recently had to fill out a couple of forms and was asked “What was my most precious possession?”. It didn’t take me long to realize my most prized possession was the rocking chair my grandmother left me. After she passed away in 2007 I was left with a few of her belongings. One of these was this very rocking chair. After reupholstering it in a crème and sailor blue coral print purchased from France, I rediscovered my love for the chair. At the moment it sits in my parents lounge room with some of their most prized possessions. In a room filled with beautiful furniture it seems that someone always finds their way to my grand mother’s rocking chair – and I just know she’s looking down from above.
I created this chuppah for my sister and her husband Rob while I was living in Paris last year. I was inspired by the beautiful autumnal colours of France. I purchased all the fabrics from La Pigalle, which was luckily around the corner from my apartment in Montmartre. The chuppah symbolizes the home and life the couple will build together. For this reason I wanted to use the tree of life as a metaphor for something that will continue to blossom over time. I loved creating the holy canopy and bringing a personal touch to the day. I showed it to my sister a week before the wedding, but Rob only saw it on the day. I will always cherish the moment he looked up and lost his breath. Every month spent sewing, quilting and sourcing fabrics was worth it!
(This is one of the lovely warehouse type stores I purchased from http://www.tissus-reine.com/)