marigoldpazar.com

this above all: to thine own self be true. ~ Shakespeare

writing . film . photography . art . dance

Bird is a beginning, born from a continued ritual that started moons and suns and seasons ago, in the form of wrtiting journals. it came to me a few days ago, from i don't even know where, in a sunshower, to create a journal to share online. i loved the feeling it gave me. the possibility of what i could do with it, and how it could serve all the art that i do across mediums. it moved me to feel ready and inspired to share things i don't normally share - as a way to be in communion and in service to the creative message, and to be awake to the inbetween moments. this is a very humble manifesto of a multidisciplinary dreamer. somewhere i can share content, with the hope to document a sacred but often ordinary and unseen pursuit that may inspire or be meaningful in some way to others - the act of following a magnetic pull of the heart, even when the path is unkowable.

Sunday.dimanche.vasárnap

23rd November 2025

I found you. i went for a bike ride unsure of where i was going, which isn't usual you know. my only prayer for the day was that i might find a jacaranda tree still flowering. then to have the will to get off my bike and take its picture. especially to try and get it on my film camera if it decided to work. to stay with the tree and the flowers long enough, not to let the time go without us knowing eachother a little. i know they're on their way out, the purple glow in humid air against dark blue clouds won't last much longer.

it was such a relief to find you. bobbing above some monument at a crossroads in a tiny park planted only with jacarandas. i saw your purple and also brown on the pavement. we swayed and nodded to eachother on the wind.

when i get the film developed i hope i'll have more to share - infinitely more beautiful, more exciting, more to tell, something closer to the truth with film.

Friday.venredi.péntek

The Message is a short film i'm making. the writing started maybe 3-5 years ago, and we shot it in January/February this year over 8 summer nights. i'm now working on the edit with Andy one evening a week, between our day jobs and his beautiful dad life. we are in November now, and we have a 12 minute edit - with half still to go - it's ok that it's slow. i don't mind. from the misty land of ideas, to the story on the page, to the meeting of like-minded souls, to the miracle of shooting, to the magic of the edit, and the sound design still to come - each of these stages reveal another secret to me, new voices speak that weren't there before. and i understand more... anyway, why i started this post was because i wanted to share my recent poster designs i've been making for the film. just because i have so much fun doing it, and feel it's another art practice that brings me a lot of joy. i expect i'll continue to experiment and maybe get better and come up with more.

.

14th Novemebr 2025

This was our edit night on 11/11. - supposedly this date is a powerfully important portal they say, an opportunity not to be missed - messages from the feed. 'don't miss this opportunity to reclaim, rebirth, shed, cut old ties' etc. bla. it was a hot day. i was up at dawn to get to work. a rare early morning NAIDOC ceremony. honouring the morning star with the children and school. it was a long day. i had no capacity to stop for self-reflective manifestation. (isn't that what we were doing collectively in ceremony?) only my actions, i thought, throughout the day could speak to the stars. be true in them. that night our co-producer, came to see the first edit. she cried as she watched it, because she felt moved by what we were creating. we reached our crowdfunding goal 20 days early that night too... the exhaustion i felt at the end of a late night didn't take away my elation. i feel it after every edit. and on my drive home, the window open, my spirit sours.

Saturday.samedi.szombat

once i used to write something every night before falling asleep. i had to grasp something from the day before i fell to dreaming, a word at the very least. sometimes it was an effort, sometimes it was ready and waiting on my pillow. still, i wrote 8 small notebooks... they began one birthday on the 8th August, with a little bird on my shoulder.

there is a seed that is germinating. the warm wet wisper of spring has got the storm clouds cracking up at dawn, over winter's sorrow.

8th Novemebr 2025

Monday.lundi.hétfő

25th August 2025

The sun had my back all the way, and like a gentle mother's hand, held the singing bird - i was the bird and the broken heart and the mother and the sun. the tears we wept soaked the ground. it was a windy month, and rains fell stormy.

i didn't know it at the time, but the blowing of the wind and watering of tears was all part of the clearing. preparing dark wet earth for new growth.