A modern ski chalet is the happy home to this Grizzly mama and her cubs.
A few months back, we closed the gate on our Coorabell acreage for the last time. Change had been in the air for us for a while. Those rolling green hills where we spent our lives for years, a place where our daughter grew up and, almost without us noticing, our little herd of four alpacas became eleven. Life there moved to the calm rhythm of mist drifting through the paddocks, the soft hum and playful prongs of alpacas always drawing a smile. The arrival of four new crias in just two weeks was total magic—a quiet signal that life multiplies in the background, blossoming when you least expect it.
Why move? Our daughter, once a youngster running across the paddocks, has spread her wings and is studying in Canada. With her final year nearly done, my husband and I felt prepared to downsize. I dusted off my paintbrushes and savoured the joy of losing myself in colour, letting the world fall away while I painted. Suddenly, I craved more time for art, more room for adventure.
It wasn’t a light decision to let go of our architect-designed home in Coorabell, and it did take some time. But when the right people came along and loved our home the way we once did, passing our home to them felt right, a gentle handover so they could create their own story for the place.
Preparing the house for open houses was full-on; bonus, the house always looked great, with my paintings hanging on the walls. Strangely, while visitors admired the home, my artwork sold and found new homes. Each piece that left with someone brought a quiet thrill, so I kept creating.
We found a new place in Yamba, this time a smaller patch of earth. Downsizing, yet somehow the house breathes with even more space. There’s a room just for me now, flooded with sunlight—a studio where I can leave my brushes and canvases out, colours remaining in the air at the end of each day—pure delight.
With a smaller property and a fresh, new house, we can lock the door and start travelling wherever it leads. Our daughter, now a young woman, is dreaming up her own adventures, maybe somewhere else in Australia or perhaps far beyond.
We packed up our lives and moved to Canberra for seven weeks, soaking up the city and precious time together—wandering museums, tasting wines, letting the days go by. With our new place not quite ready, we all set off for Canada, swapping hemispheres to enjoy summer in our winter house. Our daughter will continue her studies in Ottawa and join us again when the snow falls thick for another ski holiday. As a child grows, I realise how rare and golden these long stretches together are, knowing they'll soon become fleeting visits, treasured all the more.
Four whole months to rest, to dream, to plan a new phase in life. Days filled with hiking and painting in my makeshift studio in Big White. The mountains rise, breathtaking, and the Okanagan wineries to explore and taste.
Time to prepare my new website focusing on my art, ready to sell and ready for commissions.
Now settled in Yamba, I’ll keep up my photography work for clients, both existing and new. Many are artists themselves. I’m ready to return, fully refreshed, with a head and heart teeming with ideas for new artwork.
Life is good.
