The Worimi Way

Despite a few recent sleep-limited nights, it's hard not to feel empowered and driven. I can see exactly what I want, I've been dreaming of where I need to be and the ducks fly seamlessly into row formation. It's here, now. The ridge line promising guidance.

I’m not done yet.

Flying back from New Zealand last week, I put on a movie and grabbed out a notebook to jot down some thoughts. To be honest, most of the thoughts are the same- the dream of farming on rolling hills, restoring and rebuilding the love of agriculture that flows from the blood of my ancestors, and understanding the role of my People in all of this today. The Worimi air and The Dance lyrics promised more, reminding me of the cause.

Boorowa Basics

Rams roam in the front paddock along a tree lined driveway, connecting the Kenyu Road to the old farm homestead. Time trapped, stagnant, the old promising home seems a mere ruin to the naked eye. Yet in my heart, I know it promises much more.

A thirst for knowledge

After a quick yarn to the owners of the new hardware in town, I left the workshop where my Grandfather worked for 50 years, with photocopied picture in tow. I can't recall ever seeing it before, somehow hidden or forgotten in an old album, but there's something about it that makes me light up. With it, old facades embracing early model Holdens, a testament to the changing times. 

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