Banksia Wings

Dear Ms Nixie,

It is with much excitement that I learnt of your existence and I feel it would only have been frightfully amiss of me not to write you. That you have created a porthole to the world of history is beyond the hungry clock going back for empty seconds and into a realm of new truth, honour and justice for my fellow sisters. This is not, although rightly so for the sake of myself alone, but, even greater is the need for my story to be shared for the rightful empowerment of all women. You might know me by my husband more than you know me well….by me., the wife of a great botanist, Mr Joseph Banks. I am Dorethea Hugessen and through luck and luck alone, I’m afraid, as it was back in the day of my lifetime, did I  land myself in the role of heiress to a considerable fortune. My husband too was lucky in such regard and our combined wealth became the talk of the town. Such frivolous gossip was nothing to my aching heart and longing to be loved and respected in equal footing with Joseph, but as the time dictated, it was not to be Nicla.

I simply had to uncover the fraudulent files of history books and the hidden lies, of internet here-say, of that interplay between what was told in truth and recorded in man-speak with little consideration of what truly does dance about beneath the surface. What I mean to say, is that for every Mona Lisa Smile there is the story of a hundred winds beneath the wings. Let me just say that we were not the ladies of the past but the makers of feathers, of feathers that we never really truly got to sport for ourselves very much.

It was often said that in some of the most preposterous accounts of my time with Joseph, that I belonged to him as a devoted wife. Do you know my name sake Hug-es-en meant something to me. I do like a good cuddle like the rest of us but there was also the S for story and en for ever-never. It was the fixed state of us, the women folk from long ago. Our devotion was to be ever after and loyal servant and our huge story, our heart, our wonder and wild dreams and contributions were diminished to the never lands. It was the ever-never of our lifetime. It was the betwixt and between state, although fixed to the worlds of maybes and sort of and wishy washy perhaps speak. I have been described as modest and gentle and of no consequence as an ornament for display. I Have been described as an expert on china and though I am a collector of such pieces, I Ms Nixie am ever so much more than what they have reduced me to.

Do you know I spent every waking hour of my time in research for my husband Joseph. He was, yes, a great artist. His skills in the area of fine art were indeed unparalleled. He could draw flowers as though they were alive and oh, the colors, the definition, the line, the shade, the light, the contour, the precision and the flair had me and many of the ladies about the town, I’m afraid, rather weak at the knees . Oh dear, his style,well, it could flora ya wonder with evergreen wishes. But I lived in the pennate-enturary of forget. I was a scientist you see. Why Joseph never paid attention in Latin class. Yes, he went to Eton and I never did but I helped him along the way. We knew each other since we were practically children. He didn’t pay attention in Latin class. I DID. I hid beneath the lecture halls and took notes which gave him time to draw and doodle away. Now Joseph never did like science and the identification of species as much as I did to begin. I DID. We WERE A TEAM. WE WERE A BAND OF SCEIENCE AND ART IN A BEAUIFUL WALTZ. But it was thought that Joseph should be the front-man and I felt this was the way of the world. Please, tell everyone who I was Ms Nixie. They need to know. It must be told. Please tell them my story. IT WAS ME. I DISCOVERED THE PLANTS AND THE BANKSIA WAS THE NAME I CHOSE. It was his Birthday present. I named a flower for him.

I thought everyone should know. It happened a lot that way.

Yours truly,

Dorothea xx

Dear Dorethea,

I’m so glad you put ink to paper my dear sister. It’s strange because I only just finished reading a letter from Mona, she had a similar tale to tell. She wanted the world to know her smile is the wry smile of every woman who has been more in the picture than what, at first, might have seemed obvious to the eye of the beholder.  Apparently she knew a lot about Science too and art, though she was as penniless as a pauper. Thank you darling. It was a story I was happy to publish.

Please give my regards to the makers of wings and let your fore-sisters know there are plenty more allowed to make their own wings now or making them together too, regardless of the who or why or he or she or they or label that might have been allotted or owned.  We’ve still a way to go though.

Yours,

Ms Nicla

Ps. Ms Mona Lisa has a sealed section file on the day they made the statue of David. It’s rather x rated. She knew Michael Angelo too. You see she was always a Time Traveler. There's a Mona Lisa in ever period of history. Just look for the brown robe and the velvet and the sideways stare. If you have any such offerings, we have a new publication in the pipeline too…