HeyJared:: fieldnotes from a tidewandering journeywoman ::
these fieldnotes embrace stories about making things with cloth and paper, travels with needle, thread, paints and notebook, my ongoing love for printing with leaves, and my compulsion to dip my toes in the ocean whenever the opportunity arises
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 14
- Latest publication
- Sep 29, 2026
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 13, 2026
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tidewandering at the coorong (opens the original)
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<img alt="" class="sizing-normal" height="1092" src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!ZWgj!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F42c9b55c-42e3-4076-a36c-a611b7a5b673_571
taking memory lane (opens the original)
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Today I drove on a road that I hadn’t travelled since 1978, making my way around the shores of Lake Alexandrina to the ferry at Wellington en route to a week of drawing, writing and watercolour painting at the Coorong, South Australia’s marvellous salt water lagoon. When I was a child and my father was professor of meteorology at Flinders University, we used to stay in the university research hut there from time to time. Papa would blithely load us (along with several of his students) into a hea
I think I over did it (opens the original)
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<img alt="" class="sizing-normal" height="576" src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!dqun!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F39050c21-4fe6-4f45-99ac-6e9d841f3a2f_2605x1030.h
dyeing big things (opens the original)
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It’s been an interesting week in which while driving I had what seemed could be a brilliant idea for a story but I was in heavy traffic and couldn’t pull over and by the time I reached somewhere safer the idea had floated out the other ear so that was that.Instead I am going to share some of the many reasons I have to be grateful, aside from the obviously fortunate life that I lead. <a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!PBUz!,f_auto,q_auto:goo
in which the swampwitch is well content (opens the original)
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The garment sat on top of the kitchen fire for a few days and nights, snoozing contentedly in the small three-legged iron cauldron, surrounded by a warm brew of valerian tea that had been (ahem) compromised by moth larvae (the only protein I tolerate in my tea is milk).It had been wrapped relatively loosely around an old piece of door furniture, brought home as a souvenir of New Orleans in 2010 (not pilfered, honestly come by at a secondhand store) in company of leaves plucked from a Solanum lac
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