Did you see the drummers hair?!

May 30th, 2006

I think I might need to rethink my aversion to facial hair on guys. What is it with indie boys and having hair on their face? And it’s not trimmed hair, either. It’s shaggy, overgrown, ratty hair. Looking at some photos tonight of Augie March playing in Adelaide, I noticed every member of the band but one had a full-face indie beard. What the hell’s going on there?

I forgot, until this afternoon, that I’m going to Cairns next week. In exactly one week I will hopefully be comfortable in temperatures above 10 degrees. It’s so god damn cold here at nights right now – problem with getting home from work at 7 is it takes at least 2 hours for the house to warm up. I’ve started showering right before I sleep so I can get into bed warm ;)

Christ – it’s nearly midnight! Where the hell did the time go?! Tomorrow I have roughly 28731923797123871238 things to get done before 10AM.

Yeah. Likely.

Not for the likes of you and me

May 30th, 2006

Blah blah blah.

I got nothing.

Well, except to say STEP OFF Channel 9. Leave Augie March the hell alone.

Fuckers.

Breathe in now

May 28th, 2006

I’ve said this more than once, but one of my favourite things about Sunday is the arts programming on the ABC. Today I turned the TV on at about 3 and there was an interview with Jeanette Winterson. The interview (well, it was a little like a doco too) was specifically about her book ‘Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit’ because the BBC has made it into a TV series in the UK. I read the book about 2 years ago and the imagery has stayed with me – so much so that it was actually the images of the shorts of the TV series that stopped my channel surfing. It took me about 5 seconds to realise what I was watching, even without knowing it was on.


The book was very grey – the story was a little depressing, and the way she used imagery was effective yet oppressive. I enjoyed reading it though and I’ve read a few books of hers since (Written On The Body is one of the most lusciously beautiful books, language wise, perhaps ever written). Anyway, I digress.


What struck me most about Ms Winterson was her take on the world and the way she candidly spoke about her own history. She looked at where she had been and was grateful for her path, even though she’d experienced a far amount of shit in her time. She saw the pressure of the Church during her childhood as the main reason she sought solace in books and said reading the bible was a great start for a novelist. Also, she had some very well thought out ideas about art and its place in the world.


When asked if she thought art has a place in today’s world of popular culture, she described art as being -


‘An air pocket in an upturned boat.’


When I heard that it’s like a light went on in my head. I was describing it online tonight as some sort of epiphany – she managed to articulate exactly what I’ve been trying to figure out in my own head for a long time. She went on to say that art offers us space, air and silence. We need space to breath to live. Its role is to make the space we need and to stop the noise that bombards us day in day out.


The presenter said to her ‘do you feel like art really has a place in the superficiality of today’s world? She said that it was hard to live any way but superficially today, but art transcends that. She said superficiality does not come through washing the car or bathing the kids or day to day stuff – it’s a state of mind and a way of thinking. She said ‘superficial was to be found in an emptiness of mind and a hollowness of soul’. All people need profundity in their lives, more than just the banal. They need death and drama and beauty. Art offers them all of these things.


Brett Whiteley also said ‘Art is the spark that beats death’. I think he might be right.


After watching that today I kinda felt renewed in some way. I also felt, in a weird way, privileged. I see people every day who are so unaffected by the beauty in the world. They miss so much because they A) have their head rammed up their ass or B) are busy stressing about other things. I feel bad for them – it’s like they’re half living.


I’m living though. At least, I feel like I am. One day at a time.


Sunday: a list

May 28th, 2006

Sunday. Infinite possibilities. Here are the plans for today -




  • Finish the cat.

  • Phone the cat lady and organise dropping the drawing off next weekend.

  • Email Angela to confirm collecting her from the airport next weekend.

  • Oh shit, I just realised something – phone Hellen and check if we were supposed to be jamming Saturday or Sunday afternoon, in light of said airport excursion.

  • This is exactly why I need a small diary to carry around with me.

  • At some point get groceries.

  • Go through that very big box under the TV and stereo – the one I’ve been putting off since I moved in (which, as we just established last night, was a freaking long time ago).

  • Listen to the album Zopolite Machine by the Mountain Goats properly beginning to end.

  • The people who watch Video Hits regularly are clearly lame. They’ve had a poll recently to decide the greatest video clips ever, and coming in at number 3 is the clip for History by Michael Jackson. Wait, WHAT? I have never seen this film clip before, and I’ve watched a few in my time. It’s obvious none of them have seen the After the Fall film clip with the beached TVs. That is one of the best film clips EVA.

  • Whoops this was supposed to be a to do list.

  • Stop watching Video Hits on Sunday mornings.

  • I should probably clean out the fridge. There’s stuff in there that has lost all of its former shape and colour.

  • Washing. Particularly my sheets.


I lead such an exciting life.

Home again garden grove

May 28th, 2006

I’ve been thinking to myself how freaking cold it is tonight, so I just looked at the BOM website and apparently 6 minutes ago it was 3 degrees. No kidding it’s cold. I think I need to get one of those snake things for the front door – sitting where I am it’s like the cold air is constantly breathing on my feet. A towel would probably work just as well. I should get on that.

What I love about Salt ‘n’ Pepa (apart from their funk) is that they weren’t afraid to wear full bodied lycra jumpsuits.

Nathan called me this morning. It was really nice to hear from him – he seems to have worked through the shit he was going through with the mother in law, so that’s something. Most of the reason he called was that he got a hold of a whole lot of unused, already stretched canvases. Apparently they’re all varied sizes, and from what I got him to check on the phone they seem to be stretched reasonably well. I’m going to pick them up when I go down there in July. I have no idea what I’m going to do with them yet – I will see what size they are first. I’ve had this idea in my head, about dark playing on light, generally rather than specifically, and about the way artificial light permeates a dark space. I don’t know; it’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I need to find somewhere to paint. The garage I found is a good idea, but can you IMAGINE how cold it would be in there right now?! Ah, yeah.

I got a lot done at work today. There’s a small part of me that resents having to be there when no one else is, because really the only reason I’m there is because I spend all week dealing with problems in THEIR job. Still, Saturdays are so productive for me. I think I get more done on one half day on Saturday than on 3 normal week days. I’m talking real, money making work. Stuff that actually show up on the radar as being work. Some days during the week, if I leave my office, it takes me 45 minutes to an hour to get back to my desk. I get stopped with question after question and I get drawn into discussions and problems. It’s probably something I can improve if I get better at saying no.

I really should work on that.

Weirdest occurrence today – getting a text message from the boss lady at 9:30AM this morning asking me what she should wear to go paintballing. WTF? I’m not sure giving that advice (particularly on Saturday mornings) is in my job description.

Yesterday, putting together an application for a police clearance (for my registration to become an agent) I had to write down all the addresses I’d resided at over the last 10 years. That’s a long time. What I realised, though, is how long I’ve lived here. It’s nuts, because in my head I’d decided it was 2 years. Try 3 and a half. Where the hell did that time go? And what do I have to show for it?

In thinking about it though, I think I have achieved a lot in the last 3 and a half years. I got over the devastation of a broken heart. I found more of myself than I have probably ever known. I’ve made a lot of new friends and become more successful in my job that I was in the 5 odd years prior. I’ve travelled to far off countries and achieved things I never thought possible. All good things.

Even though I have a long way to go before I achieve everything I want for myself, the difference now is I know exactly what needs to be done. When I first moved into this little holeinthewall I was so lost. I had no direction or purpose and in retrospect I was very sad. Amanda had moved to get married, leaving me homeless (metaphorically), and I was really unenthusiastic about finding something else. I house sat for Debbie for about a month when she was in England, then Alan for about 6 weeks when he was in Europe, which effectively meant living out of a suitcase for that period of time. Alan came back from Europe and I spent about 3 weeks sleeping on his floor – probably not such a hot idea, but it still wasn’t enough to get me excited about finding somewhere new to live. Then I picked up the local paper one day at work and there was an advert for this place.

Pat was actually the one who convinced me to call – I wasn’t keen on the sound of the ad. When I first came down here and met Charlie and looked at the place, while the view knocked me out the first time I saw it, I was repelled right away by how brown and small it was on the inside and said I’d have to think about it. It took me maybe 30 seconds (basically until the end of the driveway) to decide to take it – who was I kidding? I needed something quickly, I could move into this right away, and I wouldn’t have to share it with anyone. And besides – it didn’t have to be for a long period of time. In hindsight moving here was one of the best decisions I have made. Through being liberated in my own physical space, I became more comfortable with my mental space. At least, that’s what it feels like. The next step is to get comfortable with the space I take up in the world. I’m working on that.

I can feel that it’s almost time for a change. Whether that means buying something, renting something else, or moving to a new city or country, I have no idea. It’s kinda exciting not knowing. I will be sad to leave this little place though – even with its peg thieves and lack of storage and crappy shower head and lack of real kitchen, it’s home. At least, it became home.

Well, I’m rumblin’ in this JCB

May 27th, 2006

The filmclip for ‘JCB Song’ by NIZLOPI might be the most adorable thing in the world. On the other hand, the film clip for Measuring Tape was a bit disappointing. Strobe-like images of badly shot live gigs aren’t artistically clever – they’re kinda annoying. The song was miles better than the film clip, so I guess that’s something. I’m really looking forward to hearing the new album.


Also, Josh Pyke is kinda pretty.


It would be nice to sit here in my pyjamas for another 6 hours or so, but it’s time to start the day.

La fin de semana

May 27th, 2006

Can I stay up until 1:45AM to watch the film clip for Measuring Tape by Love Outside Andromeda?! I freakin’ hope so, because I am yet to hear the song at all.

I made that call today, and now we’re having dinner on Thursday night. HAH. God damn – why do I walk myself into these things.

My brain, if it had a sound effect, would be creaking and groaning right now.

Tomorrow, before I go into work, I have big plans to buy a CD rack. I’m so fussy though I’ll probably come home with nothing. I’m half thinking about just getting a very large bookcase. This would effectively kill two birds with one stone – I need more book storage space too.

I am very glad it’s the weekend.

A heavy sack of flour sifted

May 25th, 2006

I got two important emails done tonight. I’ve been putting them off – one because I know the person I’m emailing will see right through the fact that I’m making small talk and really I’ve got nothing to say, and the second because I had to say something that I know they’re not going to react well to. Procrastinating with these things never helps. I have another one to do tomorrow, though I’m not sure it wouldn’t be better to phone this particular person. I will see how brave I’m feeling tomorrow afternoon.


I was thinking about going to see the Da Vinci Code on the weekend – I read the book a year or so back, and while it’s not a literary masterpiece it was fun to read. I’m not a big fan of Tom Hanks though – I kinda pictured a dishevelled Michael Douglas in this role in my head. Oh well, I will go see it, and then probably bemoan to myself the fact that I did.


All this week I’ve been playing my guitar again. I’ve been telling myself for the last 6 months or so that I haven’t picked it up because I’ve been too busy. That’s not really true though – you can make time for these things if you want to. The last couple of weeks I’ve felt a little out of control, but somehow I’m fitting stuff in. The house is (relatively) clean, my washing’s done, I’m working stupid hours, I’m going out, and I’m still finding time to do things like play my guitar and turn my closet into a dump while looking for a CD of photographs. One thing that IS suffering though is the amount of sleep I’m getting – I know it’s not enough. If I were to give up this part of each night – the writing, web browsing, emailing and chatting online, I could get more sleep. I should probably put some thought into that.


I’m not sure I’m willing to give it up – it’s often my favourite part of the day. I read (obsess?) about the music I like, I talk to friends and family I wouldn’t normally get a chance to catch up with, and I write here. Writing here has become really important for some reason. My day doesn’t feel quite finished until I’ve done it.


The plan is to keep up with the guitar thing hardcore (like, over an hour a night) until the calluses form again. Right now it’s hurting like a bitch, and this second I have hardly any feeling in the tips of my fingers in my fretting hand. I only need to persevere for another week or so, and then I’ll have fingers like a brickies labourer ;) On one hand at least.

There’s gonna be a party when the wolf comes home

May 24th, 2006

So tonight I started writing a whole rant about men and woman and sharing the world. Also about the definition of feminism, and whether the actual form of the word was detrimental to its function. It kinda got away from me though, and delved into relationships and patriarchy and a bit of a political rant. And then that lead me to carry on for a bit about hip hop and how a lot of men in the world seem to actually dislike and/or be uncomfortable around women.

There’s no way I can touch on that stuff in one night. You can see my problem.

So I’m going to take the 12 pages I wrote and work on it. And maybe I’ll post it. It’s good, in a way, because it’s helping me work some stuff out in my head. I read a lot and I listen a lot – stopping the listening and starting the processing of the information is probably healthy.

It all started with someone at work apologising for being a snarky cow, and finishing with ‘it’s because I have PMS’. She then went on to say this might mean she’s snappy for the next day or two, like it was a decent excuse.

Man do I lack patience with stuff like that. I understand it to a point because I live it every month just like SHE does, but using it as an excuse is dangerous. The second you do shit like that you give other people the power to take you less seriously. You’re effectively devaluing your own opinion and actions.

Anyway, I need to stop before I start again.

In other, rather worrying news, I’ve lost a whole CD of photos. Not just any photos either – all my photos from Ecuador. I haven’t laid eyes on them since I first got back from South America – like, the day I got back. I’ve known they were missing since then, but I thought it was because I hadn’t really looked properly. But now I can officially say I’ve looked properly. I’m going to have to go through every CD at work (because of course I didn’t label the fucker) and I’m also going to have to phone Selina and make sure she doesn’t have them. Man o man I hope I can find those photographs.

I’ve been seriously thinking about buying a digital camera. Not a great big fancy one, but just one I can carry around with me. Sometimes (like the last two nights at work) stuff happens that you want to capture. Particularly now I’m posting here regularly, I’d like to post photos occasionally as well.

It’s funny; I wasn’t sure when I set this thing up how committed I would be to using it. I’ve always kept a paper journal but this is a whole different kettle of crab. Last week when I was looking through the archives I felt a little pleased about how many words I’ve accrued since I started. They might be messy, hastily strung together words, but they’re all mine.

Chameleon

May 23rd, 2006

As brave as I am,
I come out talking counterfeit
You’re no mystery to me,
I just can’t work out how to breathe slowly
(But this is nothing new)

I’ll be the rain on my own

You didn’t have so much to say,
As I put my insides on a plate
You didn’t want to look let alone swallow,
You didn’t want to look let alone be,

As brave as I am,
I come out with a broken down mystery
I can’t work out how you cannot love me
(But this is nothing new)

It has been done, I must let it be,
Not walk around with untidy hands,
Making you my own misery

See you at Spectrum in June Sianna-Lee. I can’t hardly wait.

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