I didn’t want to get up this morning—feeling tired, anxious about my upcoming trip, and worried about Louis, who might have heart worm. After breakfast, I climbed back into bed and napped, the boys curled up next to me, keeping me warm and cozy.

But my calendar had a visit to the Heide Museum of Modern Art scheduled for 10 a.m. I wanted to cancel and just sleep the morning away. I wasn’t meeting anyone, and no-one but me would know if I just stayed in bed all day, but I pushed myself. Those first steps are always the hardest, but I knew lying in bed and ruminating would only make things worse. So I got up, had a shower, and scooted out the door for the short drive to this local museum.

I got a little lost on arrival—there wasn’t great signage from the upper car park to the entrance. Heide sits within a large park and was once home to art patrons John and Sunday Reed. I learned more about them later.

The main gallery had two featured exhibitions today. First up was a paranormal-themed exhibit. At least that’s what I took it as. Not something I’d normally vibe with, but it was the first room I wandered through and I actually enjoyed the interpretations of possession and what I’d call sci-fi-adjacent themes. I’m often more intrigued by the architectural design of galleries than the art itself, but here it was a great mix of both.

Next was Black in Justice, featuring works from incarcerated First Nations artists and others exploring the overrepresentation of First Nations people in custody. Some powerful pieces here—so much so that I found myself wondering if I have time to get to Glen Iris later this week to see The Torch exhibition before I leave on Friday. Galleries help me disconnect from my thoughts. The artists’ work is often a kind of therapy for them—telling their story—and I guess, in a way, that’s what it becomes for me too. A very moving exhibition, complete with its own trigger warning at the entrance. Why do I keep going to places and seeings shows that need LifeLine calls.

In the next building, things flipped. This one, a house designed to be a gallery, was hosting an experimental photography exhibit. The concept: leave photographic film exposed to light for long periods, then display the results. I didn’t really connect with it, but I find it amazing that someone can come up with this sort of thing. I suppose anything can be art if you write a strong enough paragraph about what it means, right?

By now, it was time for a quick morning tea break in the glass cube of a café overlooking the main entrance. This morning was really a practice run for how I’d like to spend my time while I’m away: get up, do something interesting, sit and write in a café, then move on. It’s my activity planning on steroids—and I’m really glad I pushed myself to try it today, before I go. I sat there with a hot chocolate and banana bread, edited some photos, made a mini reel, and started writing this post. It was a paced, mindful activity: something outside the house to keep my brain engaged instead of looping into unhelpful thoughts.

I probably should have gone for something a bit healthier since it was basically lunchtime. I love banana bread, but it always leaves me feeling overly sugary and full. Sugar high in full effect, I headed over to the original cottage home of John and Sunday Reed. I entered from the rear (which somehow felt appropriate for me 😈), passing the aviary that once housed Sunday’s 20+ cats. Inside the homestead were works by Sidney Nolan. Just like in the main gallery, where I saw pieces by Reko Rennie, I’m starting to remember a few artist names from my gallery wanderings lately. That feels like an achievement—I’m usually hopeless at remembering celebrity names. Does this mean I’m actually getting art now?

The cottage is surrounded by veggie gardens, but with a light drizzle settling in, I stayed indoors. I learned more about the Reeds and their unconventional communal lifestyle, inviting resident artists to live and work on their 15-acre property. John had been a solicitor, and Sunday, a divorcee heiress, spent their years creating and curating art together. What a life.

Gallery visit complete and blog post nearly done, I reflect on how those first few steps this morning really changed the course of my day. The pull to stay in bed and wallow was strong. If I didn’t have this activity in my calendar, I probably wouldn’t have left the house on this cold, damp day. But I pushed myself just enough—and found a few hours of calm, beauty, and even a bit of quiet joy, away from the noise in my head (and, okay, a few overly chatty guides).

Visiting Heide: Just 9km from Melbourne’s CBD in Bulleen, Heide sits along the Birrarung/Yarra River. It’s open Tuesday to Sunday, 10am–4pm on weekdays and until 5pm on weekends.

The café is a nice stop for a hot chocolate and a break between exhibitions.

Explore current exhibitions at: https://www.heide.com.au/