This week my one year anniversary in the job ticked over. The day started well, the banana I peeled for my muesli was a double-yolker! A good omen in Qld.
One year anniversaries are celebrated with 'paper', I just printed out some emails. Then I felt bad. I did a carbon footprint quiz and learnt that if everyone lived like me, we'd need 2.9 planets. Crap. I was pretty embarrassed by that. It's the flying, and the car, oh, and that I live in a house all on my own. I mean really, that's just not fair. How do I know how far the veggies in Woolies have travelled? They keep pretty quiet about that kind of thing! I don't want to whinge too much, I think it was pretty lenient really. After all, the quiz didn't ask me if I have pets or not (add at least a half a planet for them, maybe more), if I take regular medication (that's gotta be a half-planet's worth, just on the packaging!) or if I buy stuff over the internet. Actually maybe that's good. I don't know. I don't think I can handle knowing at the moment. Still, 2.9 planets.
And that's not any old planet either, it's not like a twentieth of Neptune is going to sort out this problem. No, it's Earth or it's nothing. I wonder what the carbon (and remember, we haven't started really measuring any other kind of footprint yet!?) footprint for the colonisation of Mars would look like? Something like 486 planets probably. Then when we get there, we have to do terraforming!
Anyway, I was a bit bummed by the footprint report, so I clicked on the "Things you can do!" sidebar. Wow - I could put energy efficient lightbulbs in! I wouldn't have thought of that on my own... oh wait, I could reduce the packaging on things I buy and then recycle more. HHmmm. I think this is written for my neighbours.
You know what, I'd love to see one of these sidebars that suggests useful things like:
Five Great Tips to Help Save the Earth
1. Stop breeding! The Earth is overpopulated, especially with rich fat fucks like you!
2. Stop eating twice or three times the amount you need!
3. Walking is not a criminal behaviour!
4. Shopping will not fill the hollow place where your heart should be!
5. Stay where you are! Please don't travel to gawp at our problems - sort out your own back yard. Then you could plant some parsley in it.
Fine. So. Anyway.
Paper anniversary. I recycled all the paper I could this week, and have been spreading mulch around some parts of the yard. I'm not convinced of the science of the mulch anymore for water preservation (read this book if you'd like to know more) but it gave me something to do and I'm hoping it will keep some of the weeds down a bit. Or at least make them a little easier to dig up later. Presuming I can ever feel motivated again. All I wanted to do this week was sleep, and sometimes I seemed to achieve it while I was walking around. I have been a zombie this week, only the finger on the tv remote seems to have any energy.
So my double-yolker banana was a great moment in breakfast, and pretty much the highlight of the week, but didn't herald any wonderful abundances.... oh, *except*, now that I put it all together - I'm new in the job, so for the first 3 years I get a pay rise for each year that I'm there (separate to the CPI rise) and that (wait for it!) ticks over on the anniversary! Woot!! I would have got a pay rise on that day!! How terribly civilised!! It will be virtually indiscernible in terms of cash I'm sure, but the principal of the thing is simply marvellous!
And technically, money is still a paper-based currency, so The Banana didn't lie, the double-yolker really was a good omen!
You couldn't write fiction like that!
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Health Scare - Riley's Number Ones
In news just to hand, Riley was rushed to the vets this morning to attend to a possible relapse of bladder stones. Since the last surgery and subsequent recovery, Riley has exhibited no symptoms of crystallisation of his urine - the precursor to stones forming in the urinary tract and or bladder. However he started straining to urinate, and needing to do so far more frequently than usual and hence the express trip to the vet.
Thankfully a sample obtained (by getting between the dog and the tree in the carpark) showed a recurrence as unlikely, and a bladder infection as the most obvious cause of the symptoms. However, the infection may simply be masking the formation of crystals, so as his treatment progresses, re sampling and testing of the urine every 10 days or so will be undertaken. His treatment of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories has commenced, and Riley is currently in a stable condition and resting at his Leichhardt residence.
The owner is lightly sedated and recovering as expected.
Thankfully a sample obtained (by getting between the dog and the tree in the carpark) showed a recurrence as unlikely, and a bladder infection as the most obvious cause of the symptoms. However, the infection may simply be masking the formation of crystals, so as his treatment progresses, re sampling and testing of the urine every 10 days or so will be undertaken. His treatment of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories has commenced, and Riley is currently in a stable condition and resting at his Leichhardt residence.
The owner is lightly sedated and recovering as expected.
Monday, May 26, 2008
A Great Day for Science, and a pretty Crap day for Art
Woo!
What a crazy little while it's been!
How totally frackin exciting was it that Phoenix landed safely on the Mars polar region. Woot! Go you crazy rocket guys!! Yeah! Those rocket thrusters were fully sick. Why has it taken so long for actual space missions to look like our very well rendered games? I swear that "artists impression" footage was taken almost directly from "Masters of Orion". We all knew the airbags were dodgy as all fuck.
Congratulations earthlings on taking one more step towards becoming Martians.
Here's the master on the subject:
"Fools, fools. There is life on Mars, and it's us. We are the Martians now."
Ray Bradbury, Mars's first poet-in-non-residence.
Also, in other news of massive importance to the geek community, Neal Stephenson is releasing a new novel on September 9 of this year! So soon! Only 4 short years since "System of the World" was unleashed upon our puny minds we will receive "Anathem" (no, that's not a typo). I don't know anything else about it! Wait, and read it, and be happy.
Oh, that's right, and then there's this utterly utterly ridiculous situation where the NSW police force seem to think that it's about 1898, and that art is to blame! In a classic, one might be tempted to say textbook implementation, during a period of high economic stress (rates increasing! petrol prices increasing! chinese workers distracted from their factories by unpredictable natural phenomena!) what do we have? Why look, it's a very public condemnation of art as dirty pornography (I note, somewhat cynically, that many of the online news sources chose to run the unpixellated versions of the images). I refer, of course, to the new series of work by Australian photographer, Bill Henson.
his images are amazing. There's so much pap-art, it can be possible to forget what it's like to be confronted, really asked to engage with an artwork. I saw the image that went out to invite people to this opening (our Director is on the invite list) and it was captivating. Utterly astonishing and confronting. Sure. It's confronting.
That's what makes it so great - because this is the power of art - to reflect what you the viewer carry around inside you and never question. Then when it's projected - what do you see? You see your own darknesses, your own fears, or your own wonder and beauty. In these images, I see sadness and vulnerability. One of my work colleagues sees beauty of an almost transcendent nature. Talking to her about this has opened my eyes to her beauty and generosity (which has been a marvelous and unexpected benefit of this discussion!).
It is the yabbering and thoughtless reactions of people (such as, I'm sorry to say, Prime Minister Rudd) that contribute to an environment in which art of this nature and power is even more necessary. I think the attacks on this work make perfect sense for a culture where we have continued to dumb-down our public discourse, and where we have all but eliminated situations where there is any ambiguity or nuance. One of his previous series' images was in the Strange Cargo exhibition we hosted over last summer. Because of this kind of response, we arranged a "preview" viewing for the media and marketing teams of council so we could explain his work - knowing that if we were going to receive any complaints from our local audience, it would probably be for this naked and muddied girl being carried/dragged by two naked young men .... and yet (maybe because the town is so catholic) there was no complaint about this (but I got complaints about the monster/sculpture scaring young children)!
As a feminist I am sensitive to images of women which are exploitative, and his work asks us to look at that space, but from an angle of reflection about our own devaluation of youth, innocence and powerful transitional states. Any commercial on television is likely to be far more harmful and fundamentally exploitative than these amazing creatively fashioned (and I mean fashioned in the sense of consciously made, not in the modern sense of fashionably designed) images.
BTW, I'm not sure I *like* them ... I would buy different art for my walls (and I acknowledge too, that I am a long long way from being able to buy artworks of this status, so my opinion and knowledge must he held in that context). But I do know that when I am standing in front of one of his works from these series, I have that inner turmoil and satisfaction that comes from making an unexpected relationship with something, and that's when I know I've met some Art, and it has made a mark on me.
What a crazy little while it's been!
How totally frackin exciting was it that Phoenix landed safely on the Mars polar region. Woot! Go you crazy rocket guys!! Yeah! Those rocket thrusters were fully sick. Why has it taken so long for actual space missions to look like our very well rendered games? I swear that "artists impression" footage was taken almost directly from "Masters of Orion". We all knew the airbags were dodgy as all fuck.
Congratulations earthlings on taking one more step towards becoming Martians.
Here's the master on the subject:
"Fools, fools. There is life on Mars, and it's us. We are the Martians now."
Ray Bradbury, Mars's first poet-in-non-residence.
Also, in other news of massive importance to the geek community, Neal Stephenson is releasing a new novel on September 9 of this year! So soon! Only 4 short years since "System of the World" was unleashed upon our puny minds we will receive "Anathem" (no, that's not a typo). I don't know anything else about it! Wait, and read it, and be happy.
Oh, that's right, and then there's this utterly utterly ridiculous situation where the NSW police force seem to think that it's about 1898, and that art is to blame! In a classic, one might be tempted to say textbook implementation, during a period of high economic stress (rates increasing! petrol prices increasing! chinese workers distracted from their factories by unpredictable natural phenomena!) what do we have? Why look, it's a very public condemnation of art as dirty pornography (I note, somewhat cynically, that many of the online news sources chose to run the unpixellated versions of the images). I refer, of course, to the new series of work by Australian photographer, Bill Henson.
his images are amazing. There's so much pap-art, it can be possible to forget what it's like to be confronted, really asked to engage with an artwork. I saw the image that went out to invite people to this opening (our Director is on the invite list) and it was captivating. Utterly astonishing and confronting. Sure. It's confronting.
That's what makes it so great - because this is the power of art - to reflect what you the viewer carry around inside you and never question. Then when it's projected - what do you see? You see your own darknesses, your own fears, or your own wonder and beauty. In these images, I see sadness and vulnerability. One of my work colleagues sees beauty of an almost transcendent nature. Talking to her about this has opened my eyes to her beauty and generosity (which has been a marvelous and unexpected benefit of this discussion!).
It is the yabbering and thoughtless reactions of people (such as, I'm sorry to say, Prime Minister Rudd) that contribute to an environment in which art of this nature and power is even more necessary. I think the attacks on this work make perfect sense for a culture where we have continued to dumb-down our public discourse, and where we have all but eliminated situations where there is any ambiguity or nuance. One of his previous series' images was in the Strange Cargo exhibition we hosted over last summer. Because of this kind of response, we arranged a "preview" viewing for the media and marketing teams of council so we could explain his work - knowing that if we were going to receive any complaints from our local audience, it would probably be for this naked and muddied girl being carried/dragged by two naked young men .... and yet (maybe because the town is so catholic) there was no complaint about this (but I got complaints about the monster/sculpture scaring young children)!
As a feminist I am sensitive to images of women which are exploitative, and his work asks us to look at that space, but from an angle of reflection about our own devaluation of youth, innocence and powerful transitional states. Any commercial on television is likely to be far more harmful and fundamentally exploitative than these amazing creatively fashioned (and I mean fashioned in the sense of consciously made, not in the modern sense of fashionably designed) images.
BTW, I'm not sure I *like* them ... I would buy different art for my walls (and I acknowledge too, that I am a long long way from being able to buy artworks of this status, so my opinion and knowledge must he held in that context). But I do know that when I am standing in front of one of his works from these series, I have that inner turmoil and satisfaction that comes from making an unexpected relationship with something, and that's when I know I've met some Art, and it has made a mark on me.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Because it's on
I'd had such hopes for the "antiques and collectibles fair day" that I was ready to be faced with many choices and competing desires. I was armed up with a little bit of cash, and ready to have to do some appraising and make a difficult decision of how best to deploy it for overall pleasure on the day.
What was actually available was ... lacklustre. A bit dull, very nana. Not much chop. Well, in the end I picked up another typewriter (a funky two-tone Remington 315 'portable') bringing it to just 2 Remington's an Olivetti and an Underwood (still pretty modest and I am *not* calling it a collection, I just like typewriters, and yes, nearly all of them work, but the ribbons are pretty faded) and an owl clicker. A clicker - you remember those pressed metal toys, where there was a body and then a little stub of metal on the back that you'd depress and let go, depress and let go and it would go "KL-ICK!, KL-ICK!" yes? Well, I paid an OUTRAGEOUS sum for one of those. I don't think it was outrageous, but Mellie (who is visiting with her dog-nephew Jinx) *screamed* when I said $8. Jeeze. Yes, we all had them when we were kids, but they got destroyed, chucked out, lost. Anyway, given that the only other thing I was interested in there was $255 (and incomplete! The lady let me take a photo of it which she seemed confused about) I think I got out very lightly and it was still cheaper than a film and a choc-top.
Once again confirming my theory that things in Ippy are generally well attended not out of the oft touted "community spirit" nor out of any particular interest, but simply *because*they're*on*. We'll go to anything around here just to have a look. That's right. Just because there's nothing better to do and we're all a tiny bit sick of the inside of our own houses.
I'm not complaining, I'm just saying how it is. Same thing today - Million Paws Walk. Can easily give the RSPCA money any day, but went along for the social outing. Riley doesn't even like other dogs. He certainly does not like being around hundreds of dogs he hasn't personally approved to attend, many of whom may bark without his express permission. None the less, off we went into the howling wind and sat around getting red ruddy cheeks, knocked around by massive bodies on short leashes, enduring ridiculous commentary of the Frisbee Dogs team (?! I kid you not) and getting sick on horrid, expensive coffee. Euch. But there you go. That's two events I've been looking forward too. Ah. [shakes head]
So here we are. It's early Sunday afternoon. I'm going to have a nap. Possibly for hours. Then I'm going to write (or at least type up some of the masses of notes I have, there's always editing time later!), and for dinner I shall have toast. Wonderful. See - no need to go out again for weeks, possibly months now.
What was actually available was ... lacklustre. A bit dull, very nana. Not much chop. Well, in the end I picked up another typewriter (a funky two-tone Remington 315 'portable') bringing it to just 2 Remington's an Olivetti and an Underwood (still pretty modest and I am *not* calling it a collection, I just like typewriters, and yes, nearly all of them work, but the ribbons are pretty faded) and an owl clicker. A clicker - you remember those pressed metal toys, where there was a body and then a little stub of metal on the back that you'd depress and let go, depress and let go and it would go "KL-ICK!, KL-ICK!" yes? Well, I paid an OUTRAGEOUS sum for one of those. I don't think it was outrageous, but Mellie (who is visiting with her dog-nephew Jinx) *screamed* when I said $8. Jeeze. Yes, we all had them when we were kids, but they got destroyed, chucked out, lost. Anyway, given that the only other thing I was interested in there was $255 (and incomplete! The lady let me take a photo of it which she seemed confused about) I think I got out very lightly and it was still cheaper than a film and a choc-top.
Once again confirming my theory that things in Ippy are generally well attended not out of the oft touted "community spirit" nor out of any particular interest, but simply *because*they're*on*. We'll go to anything around here just to have a look. That's right. Just because there's nothing better to do and we're all a tiny bit sick of the inside of our own houses.
I'm not complaining, I'm just saying how it is. Same thing today - Million Paws Walk. Can easily give the RSPCA money any day, but went along for the social outing. Riley doesn't even like other dogs. He certainly does not like being around hundreds of dogs he hasn't personally approved to attend, many of whom may bark without his express permission. None the less, off we went into the howling wind and sat around getting red ruddy cheeks, knocked around by massive bodies on short leashes, enduring ridiculous commentary of the Frisbee Dogs team (?! I kid you not) and getting sick on horrid, expensive coffee. Euch. But there you go. That's two events I've been looking forward too. Ah. [shakes head]
So here we are. It's early Sunday afternoon. I'm going to have a nap. Possibly for hours. Then I'm going to write (or at least type up some of the masses of notes I have, there's always editing time later!), and for dinner I shall have toast. Wonderful. See - no need to go out again for weeks, possibly months now.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Great Cull
Having set a date (no matter how randomly) for delivering a project, one's energy seems to magically align to making that happen. Why don't I use this power for good more often?
Finally I am able to face the 3 or 4 (I don't even really know how many there are!) folders of notes, drafts, versions (at least 3 distinct versions, not including the original sci-fi dystopia version!) and scribbles, hopes and fakes that make up the "file" of this work in progress. I have been kidding myself that it's "pretty much all there" for quite some time now, allowing hope and denial to take the place of clear-eyed editing. Having spent Monday night critically appraising the existing computer files (ack! so make that 5! folders of stuff) I realise that there is a lot of work ahead of me. Proper work, not collating or finessing or polishing, or the other hand-waving that I will try and get away with before I do anything requiring mental horsepower. I think, with my Realistic Hat on that I will be keeping less than 10% of the guff that I have, and that I am at First Draft stage rather than the hopeful Second Draft I posited earlier this week.
Rather than being depressed by this (as I have been in the past when the hand-waving hasn't worked) I feel invigorated. Scared of still producing nothing but crap come August, but keen to give it a go. There's nothing to lose.
Finally I understand that there's nothing to lose in trying to make this thing. Oh. Oh wow.
No really, wow. I can only get better (!), I can only make myself happier by working on this thing. There are very few things I would rather do with my time, and (call me crazy) it might all go well and be good. Woah!
I know I'm talking it all up more than showing you the goods this week. It's not that I don't want to share with you, it's that there's masses of culling going on and not yet enough (read: any)new stuff. Tonight will be new stuff time (I will alternate culling and writing so that there's some chance for the old stuff to grow and the new stuff to not be too swamped). Even this degree of deliberate focus is very very new for me, and intimidating. I write on-demand at work, but that is very functional and practical material. This experiment tonight may be wobbly-time. Anyway, if all goes to the Optimistic Plan can expect to see some samples here in June/July.
The once-deserted fairly landscape down in the new estate is overrun with building goblins now. Men in high-vis yellow and orange or high-risk tans swarm over the mess of concrete slabs. Wooden skeletons of rooms and roofs are massing themselves and sitting over the top of the oddly truncated plastic tubes that stick out of the slabs like the severed arteries of ossified giants. It's a cacophony of nail guns, oaths and earth-moving equipment. I find it a bit much for my 7am, but Riley is intoxicated with the variety of smells and activities. We compromise and go there every 2 or 3 days for the morning walks, and I try and keep my gaze averted to the trees over the gorge, rather than risk accidentally seeing a workman piss against his own truck again.
Finally I am able to face the 3 or 4 (I don't even really know how many there are!) folders of notes, drafts, versions (at least 3 distinct versions, not including the original sci-fi dystopia version!) and scribbles, hopes and fakes that make up the "file" of this work in progress. I have been kidding myself that it's "pretty much all there" for quite some time now, allowing hope and denial to take the place of clear-eyed editing. Having spent Monday night critically appraising the existing computer files (ack! so make that 5! folders of stuff) I realise that there is a lot of work ahead of me. Proper work, not collating or finessing or polishing, or the other hand-waving that I will try and get away with before I do anything requiring mental horsepower. I think, with my Realistic Hat on that I will be keeping less than 10% of the guff that I have, and that I am at First Draft stage rather than the hopeful Second Draft I posited earlier this week.
Rather than being depressed by this (as I have been in the past when the hand-waving hasn't worked) I feel invigorated. Scared of still producing nothing but crap come August, but keen to give it a go. There's nothing to lose.
Finally I understand that there's nothing to lose in trying to make this thing. Oh. Oh wow.
No really, wow. I can only get better (!), I can only make myself happier by working on this thing. There are very few things I would rather do with my time, and (call me crazy) it might all go well and be good. Woah!
I know I'm talking it all up more than showing you the goods this week. It's not that I don't want to share with you, it's that there's masses of culling going on and not yet enough (read: any)new stuff. Tonight will be new stuff time (I will alternate culling and writing so that there's some chance for the old stuff to grow and the new stuff to not be too swamped). Even this degree of deliberate focus is very very new for me, and intimidating. I write on-demand at work, but that is very functional and practical material. This experiment tonight may be wobbly-time. Anyway, if all goes to the Optimistic Plan can expect to see some samples here in June/July.
The once-deserted fairly landscape down in the new estate is overrun with building goblins now. Men in high-vis yellow and orange or high-risk tans swarm over the mess of concrete slabs. Wooden skeletons of rooms and roofs are massing themselves and sitting over the top of the oddly truncated plastic tubes that stick out of the slabs like the severed arteries of ossified giants. It's a cacophony of nail guns, oaths and earth-moving equipment. I find it a bit much for my 7am, but Riley is intoxicated with the variety of smells and activities. We compromise and go there every 2 or 3 days for the morning walks, and I try and keep my gaze averted to the trees over the gorge, rather than risk accidentally seeing a workman piss against his own truck again.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Back at Work
Hello mundanity, thy name is Monday.
I promise to leave off on the NG thing now for a good long time (today he has some excellent suggestions today on approaching a second draft which sound very useful although as someone who writes longhand, my suggestion to myself is to get a typist on staff. oooh staff, how good would that be?!).
Another tip I've just thought of, is don't try and start a new life, new schedule, new resolution on a Monday. Really, anytime from Tuesday through even until probably Sunday afternoon is giving yourself a much better chance at things. Less pressure, less chance of getting completely body-slammed by other things. I never used to have this problem, well, let me re-phrase that. I haven't had this problem since the last time I was a monday to friday working stiff. When you work in service industries and performance industries, the Monday Issue doesn't really exist, doesn't have the same sting to it. There's just working days, and, if you're lucky, days off (or Orf, as we say in Qld). So as I'm very grateful to have regular days orf, I'll shut my trap.
I got the quote wrong yesterday. How embarrassment. It's meant to read "Action will remove the doubts that theory cannot solve." Sure, I was close, but there's no prize for second (why do people say that? Has anyone told the Olympics? They could save, like, a trillion yen on medals if they don't need to do the silver/bronze thing). Yen? That's Japanese! Shit. Hang on ....
That would be "Renminbi" in denominations of Yuan. My apologies.
In other news, I've randomly selected Tuesday 26 August 2008 as the release date for the next thingo*, which will be called "Parched" (thereby shortcutting one of the usual concerns of the second draft) (note also the clever use of a Tuesday). This date is subject to some change, but not much! Which means I must now digitus extractus and get all the little scribbley-bits typed up and looking like official paper. Scary exciting.
* book. I meant book, but felt too superstitious to say it, twitchy today. Too much tea.
I promise to leave off on the NG thing now for a good long time (today he has some excellent suggestions today on approaching a second draft which sound very useful although as someone who writes longhand, my suggestion to myself is to get a typist on staff. oooh staff, how good would that be?!).
Another tip I've just thought of, is don't try and start a new life, new schedule, new resolution on a Monday. Really, anytime from Tuesday through even until probably Sunday afternoon is giving yourself a much better chance at things. Less pressure, less chance of getting completely body-slammed by other things. I never used to have this problem, well, let me re-phrase that. I haven't had this problem since the last time I was a monday to friday working stiff. When you work in service industries and performance industries, the Monday Issue doesn't really exist, doesn't have the same sting to it. There's just working days, and, if you're lucky, days off (or Orf, as we say in Qld). So as I'm very grateful to have regular days orf, I'll shut my trap.
I got the quote wrong yesterday. How embarrassment. It's meant to read "Action will remove the doubts that theory cannot solve." Sure, I was close, but there's no prize for second (why do people say that? Has anyone told the Olympics? They could save, like, a trillion yen on medals if they don't need to do the silver/bronze thing). Yen? That's Japanese! Shit. Hang on ....
That would be "Renminbi" in denominations of Yuan. My apologies.
In other news, I've randomly selected Tuesday 26 August 2008 as the release date for the next thingo*, which will be called "Parched" (thereby shortcutting one of the usual concerns of the second draft) (note also the clever use of a Tuesday). This date is subject to some change, but not much! Which means I must now digitus extractus and get all the little scribbley-bits typed up and looking like official paper. Scary exciting.
* book. I meant book, but felt too superstitious to say it, twitchy today. Too much tea.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Manic Inspiration
It is official, Neil Gaiman is very possibly the nicest author alive.
I haven't met any dead authors, so I couldn't say otherwise, and I'm wary of hyperbole after this week, and you might be tempted not to believe me if I just say nicest person (although I think he must be right up there in the running) and actually, to my shame, I haven't met very many International Authors of Intrigue and Excitement. But of my whole life experience, and all my book gossiping, I can tell you with the utmost lack of authority, that Neil Gaiman is very possibly the nicest author alive. So there.
At the event at Kino, he signed himself nearly into oblivion. How very tired he was, how very sore his hand became, and yet, person by person, he had a smile and a quip and maybe a little drawing. Maybe I could say that Neil Gaiman has whatever the antithesis of hubris is. I'd love to know if there's a word for that. Something that covers humility, good humour and being clever.
It was inspiring to be involved in this event, and I have to confess, I did double-dip and go to "D's" the next day (in my defence, I waited until right at the end! I didn't want to cheat any first-timers!) for another hello. It does sound a little odd to be hounding the poor man across the city, but as wisdom seemed to drip from his pen, I thought it might be a good idea to be near the pen often ... well as often as possible without being pushy.
You see, I can't write like Neil, or like Jane, or like Cory, or Gibson or Le Guin, or Stephenson, or Shute or Rumi or Scott Card or any of the other dozens of inspiring authors whose stories and tales and imaginations I adore. I just write like me.
For ages I've been really down about wirting like me, and have made no effort to find out what might be good about that. I've been blind to my pictures and deaf to my voice. Hence the big gap in publishing projects, and the pulling-teethness of my "oh I want to write, but my writing is so bad I shoudn't inflict it on anybody until it is much much better" whining and prevaricating! Blah Blah Blah.
It never occured to me that real-life International Authors of Intrigue and Excitement might have had that feeling too. Someone put a question into the fishbowl about the themes in the stories and I'm going to paraphrase heavily here now (until Mez gets the tape out of the box and onto the interwebs) because Neil says something *like* "Actually I write a story and then read it and go 'oh, angels again'." and ka-ching a little light goes on in my head. I *know* I've heard generic-people say stuff like that before, or at least read it in a book, but it never hit a big gong before!
So there it is. Action will resolve the doubts that theory cannot solve. There's fresh hope and motivation. So much so that I'm telling anyone who'll listen that Publishing Project #2 will be done for August 2008.
Since Tuesday night, it's been a manic week of inspiration, of ideas and of clarity about what's needed, and what can be let go. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to go through this experience, and want to thank all the generous actions that put me into the place where I could hear that message.
I thank the loving friends who arranged the flight, and all the people who've encouraged me (from dodgy drafts, through the blog and also through Trojan Moments), I thank the store for letting me be involved, and I thank Neil who cares about even the last person in the queue.
I haven't met any dead authors, so I couldn't say otherwise, and I'm wary of hyperbole after this week, and you might be tempted not to believe me if I just say nicest person (although I think he must be right up there in the running) and actually, to my shame, I haven't met very many International Authors of Intrigue and Excitement. But of my whole life experience, and all my book gossiping, I can tell you with the utmost lack of authority, that Neil Gaiman is very possibly the nicest author alive. So there.
At the event at Kino, he signed himself nearly into oblivion. How very tired he was, how very sore his hand became, and yet, person by person, he had a smile and a quip and maybe a little drawing. Maybe I could say that Neil Gaiman has whatever the antithesis of hubris is. I'd love to know if there's a word for that. Something that covers humility, good humour and being clever.
It was inspiring to be involved in this event, and I have to confess, I did double-dip and go to "D's" the next day (in my defence, I waited until right at the end! I didn't want to cheat any first-timers!) for another hello. It does sound a little odd to be hounding the poor man across the city, but as wisdom seemed to drip from his pen, I thought it might be a good idea to be near the pen often ... well as often as possible without being pushy.
You see, I can't write like Neil, or like Jane, or like Cory, or Gibson or Le Guin, or Stephenson, or Shute or Rumi or Scott Card or any of the other dozens of inspiring authors whose stories and tales and imaginations I adore. I just write like me.
For ages I've been really down about wirting like me, and have made no effort to find out what might be good about that. I've been blind to my pictures and deaf to my voice. Hence the big gap in publishing projects, and the pulling-teethness of my "oh I want to write, but my writing is so bad I shoudn't inflict it on anybody until it is much much better" whining and prevaricating! Blah Blah Blah.
It never occured to me that real-life International Authors of Intrigue and Excitement might have had that feeling too. Someone put a question into the fishbowl about the themes in the stories and I'm going to paraphrase heavily here now (until Mez gets the tape out of the box and onto the interwebs) because Neil says something *like* "Actually I write a story and then read it and go 'oh, angels again'." and ka-ching a little light goes on in my head. I *know* I've heard generic-people say stuff like that before, or at least read it in a book, but it never hit a big gong before!
So there it is. Action will resolve the doubts that theory cannot solve. There's fresh hope and motivation. So much so that I'm telling anyone who'll listen that Publishing Project #2 will be done for August 2008.
Since Tuesday night, it's been a manic week of inspiration, of ideas and of clarity about what's needed, and what can be let go. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to go through this experience, and want to thank all the generous actions that put me into the place where I could hear that message.
I thank the loving friends who arranged the flight, and all the people who've encouraged me (from dodgy drafts, through the blog and also through Trojan Moments), I thank the store for letting me be involved, and I thank Neil who cares about even the last person in the queue.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Welcome & Intro to Neil Gaiman at Books Kinokuniya, Sydney, 6may08
Welcome one and all to Books Kinokuniya.
We’re very honoured to be hosting this author event tonight. Bookstores exist to facilitate the connection between readers & writers, and when we have a chance to do so in person it is an opportunity to celebrate our relationship & to reflect on the richness of our world.
Our guest this evening has recently been introduced (at a function similar to this one) as a God. I’m not sure how you [Neil] feel about that – but I found it a hard act to follow! I don’t know about you guys [audience] – but I’ve read a few stories about Gods, and they tend to scare the willies out of me! So rather than risk the ire of the Gods, I’d like to introduce a Champion.
Tonight is a precious chance to welcome our Champion Bard here to our hearth and hear his new story told in his voice, to have his wisdom answer our questions and to pay our respects in person. And this visit is no small gift.
That he gives so often and so much of himself – through his blog, the interviews & touring, the signings and the polite and patient answering of questions, is a marvel. And then there are the stories. The constant writing of stories that seem to gush and tumble from him in a glorious abundance. The stories that mean so much to all of us that we re-read and push on our friends. They have been recognised in all the modern ways – with awards and with the solid-state of energy so widely recognised – with money.
Maybe not enough money, sure, but the money’s starting to happen – yeah? [Neil].
So ladies and gentlemen I ask you to look now to our travelling Bard whose renown grows with every engagement. A Champion for the life of the imaginations for reading as riches, for humanity, love terror and humour.
Please make a really huge noise and much much applause for Mr Neil Gaiman.
We’re very honoured to be hosting this author event tonight. Bookstores exist to facilitate the connection between readers & writers, and when we have a chance to do so in person it is an opportunity to celebrate our relationship & to reflect on the richness of our world.
Our guest this evening has recently been introduced (at a function similar to this one) as a God. I’m not sure how you [Neil] feel about that – but I found it a hard act to follow! I don’t know about you guys [audience] – but I’ve read a few stories about Gods, and they tend to scare the willies out of me! So rather than risk the ire of the Gods, I’d like to introduce a Champion.
Tonight is a precious chance to welcome our Champion Bard here to our hearth and hear his new story told in his voice, to have his wisdom answer our questions and to pay our respects in person. And this visit is no small gift.
That he gives so often and so much of himself – through his blog, the interviews & touring, the signings and the polite and patient answering of questions, is a marvel. And then there are the stories. The constant writing of stories that seem to gush and tumble from him in a glorious abundance. The stories that mean so much to all of us that we re-read and push on our friends. They have been recognised in all the modern ways – with awards and with the solid-state of energy so widely recognised – with money.
Maybe not enough money, sure, but the money’s starting to happen – yeah? [Neil].
So ladies and gentlemen I ask you to look now to our travelling Bard whose renown grows with every engagement. A Champion for the life of the imaginations for reading as riches, for humanity, love terror and humour.
Please make a really huge noise and much much applause for Mr Neil Gaiman.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Warm Hearts
It's truly autumn here in Sydney. The trees have turned and the days are cold. When the sun is hidden by cloud the guts fall out of the day. The evenings set their chill well before the light has gone, but I am just not feeling it. There's been so much love and laughter since I arrived that I am still in a bubble.
Last night was a great catch-up in what felt like a private bar (oh *yeah* it's monday!) and L&A have opened their home to me yet again (it feels like home here) and then a long leisurely brunch with perfect eggs and perfect company in the person of the eternally effervescent Mellie down at Coogee. Footballing superstars stolling past our cafe were just wallpaper to a beautiful couple of hours. The ocean was flat, still and clear in a weird silence, but blue! Blue like your heart has sung it into being!
So it's just 3 hours now until the big NG event starts.
I'm going to go into lockdown and reach for something simple and clear.
Yes, simple and clear. Less is more.
Yes indeedy, no need for showboating, this is all about warm hearts.
Last night was a great catch-up in what felt like a private bar (oh *yeah* it's monday!) and L&A have opened their home to me yet again (it feels like home here) and then a long leisurely brunch with perfect eggs and perfect company in the person of the eternally effervescent Mellie down at Coogee. Footballing superstars stolling past our cafe were just wallpaper to a beautiful couple of hours. The ocean was flat, still and clear in a weird silence, but blue! Blue like your heart has sung it into being!
So it's just 3 hours now until the big NG event starts.
I'm going to go into lockdown and reach for something simple and clear.
Yes, simple and clear. Less is more.
Yes indeedy, no need for showboating, this is all about warm hearts.
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Remembering Neil Gaiman at Kinokuniya Sydney in 2005
I have let myself be totally over-excited this week about seeing Neil Gaiman at Books Kinokuniya on Tuesday (now only 2 sleeps to go!). In fact I've embraced my nerdy fandom and revelled in it. I've re-read American Gods, I've re-read vol 1 of the Absolute Sandman, and I'm now reading Fragile Things. I've been dipping into Hanging Out with the Dream King and just letting it all absorb into me. This might sound a bit childish and indulgent, but I assure you I have two quite sound reasons.
One, I am terrified of being deeply uncool when the time comes and sounding like a wacky, possibly dangerous psycho-lady. I am not a psycho lady (certified) and would really prefer to have my wits about me. Hence this week of gushing to whomever would listen and jumping up and down when I think no-one is looking. Moving it through the system, so to speak.
Two, it's fun.
Yeah, fun. Deal with it.
Why am I such a fan of Neil Gaiman? I can't confidently say in a concise way. I'm really hoping that by Tuesday night something coherent will coalesce because just rambling and raving is not going to set the tone well at all. In no particular order, here are some of the reasons:
he writes stories that are exciting and satisfying, he's funny, he shares things about himself and seems to trust that this will enrich his life rather than hurt him, he's a loving dad, he writes great stories, he has a very warm smile and is present (not distracted or checking his watch) when he's talking to you, he is interested and therefore interesting and he has badly-behaved hair that adds to his charm all the more. Plus he writes, and writes and writes and writes. He is inspiring and inspired.
See? Still gushing quite a bit. The last time Neil was at Books Kinokuniya was 20 July 2005 (2 years, 9 months and 16 days ago as of next tuesday night .... but who's counting?) and I didn't have a blog then, so I'm going to put the intro I did then into this post. I only had about 4 hours notice that I would be doing it, and as we'd been working towards it in the store for weeks, I was in an almost trance-like state by the time it happened. I'm told it was a great introduction! Thankfully I had my preparation notes to read later. I think it was considered good on two counts - one it was very short - two it was not the usual horrific list of awards and cliches and was delivered with absolute passion and a winning smile. You can get away with a lot if you smile. Anyway, here it is.
Welcome Speech to Neil Gaiman 20Jul05
Distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, Sprites, Elves, Faeries, Demons, Trolls, Fans, bemused onlookers, and staff, welcome to Kinokuniya Sydney!
Today is proof that sometimes, wishes do get granted, that dreams do come true. That one day, Heroes from far & exotic lands may indeed pass through our very own village on their way between glories. They may bestow upon those of us who line the streets to cheer them, a sign, a word, a smile - and in that moment we are all woven together.
For booksellers, it is a particular pleasure to see authors & readers in one place - a joyful & sacred experience. Our honoured guest today has won so many awards & written so many books it would be beside the point to list them. Most importantly, he has reached into each of us through his stories, and with myth, with humour, with compassion & curiosity he has invited our hearts & minds to thrum.
Please, I invite you to make welcome, Mr Neil Gaiman.
One, I am terrified of being deeply uncool when the time comes and sounding like a wacky, possibly dangerous psycho-lady. I am not a psycho lady (certified) and would really prefer to have my wits about me. Hence this week of gushing to whomever would listen and jumping up and down when I think no-one is looking. Moving it through the system, so to speak.
Two, it's fun.
Yeah, fun. Deal with it.
Why am I such a fan of Neil Gaiman? I can't confidently say in a concise way. I'm really hoping that by Tuesday night something coherent will coalesce because just rambling and raving is not going to set the tone well at all. In no particular order, here are some of the reasons:
he writes stories that are exciting and satisfying, he's funny, he shares things about himself and seems to trust that this will enrich his life rather than hurt him, he's a loving dad, he writes great stories, he has a very warm smile and is present (not distracted or checking his watch) when he's talking to you, he is interested and therefore interesting and he has badly-behaved hair that adds to his charm all the more. Plus he writes, and writes and writes and writes. He is inspiring and inspired.
See? Still gushing quite a bit. The last time Neil was at Books Kinokuniya was 20 July 2005 (2 years, 9 months and 16 days ago as of next tuesday night .... but who's counting?) and I didn't have a blog then, so I'm going to put the intro I did then into this post. I only had about 4 hours notice that I would be doing it, and as we'd been working towards it in the store for weeks, I was in an almost trance-like state by the time it happened. I'm told it was a great introduction! Thankfully I had my preparation notes to read later. I think it was considered good on two counts - one it was very short - two it was not the usual horrific list of awards and cliches and was delivered with absolute passion and a winning smile. You can get away with a lot if you smile. Anyway, here it is.
Welcome Speech to Neil Gaiman 20Jul05
Distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, Sprites, Elves, Faeries, Demons, Trolls, Fans, bemused onlookers, and staff, welcome to Kinokuniya Sydney!
Today is proof that sometimes, wishes do get granted, that dreams do come true. That one day, Heroes from far & exotic lands may indeed pass through our very own village on their way between glories. They may bestow upon those of us who line the streets to cheer them, a sign, a word, a smile - and in that moment we are all woven together.
For booksellers, it is a particular pleasure to see authors & readers in one place - a joyful & sacred experience. Our honoured guest today has won so many awards & written so many books it would be beside the point to list them. Most importantly, he has reached into each of us through his stories, and with myth, with humour, with compassion & curiosity he has invited our hearts & minds to thrum.
Please, I invite you to make welcome, Mr Neil Gaiman.
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Some Nurture from Nature
The cold snap has receded leaving it its wake confused trees.
It still gets to about 25 degrees during the day, and the sun is strong enough to burn, but this morning all of the Gadagi trees along Toongarra road had half-turned their leaves to brown. I sometimes wonder if there’s any part of the tree that can reflect on how hard it’s working today because of a pre-emptive autumn response? On the other hand, if they aren’t going to start feeling Autumn now that it’s May (when it technically started in March!) then I don’t know when they will! Maybe some deciduous trees don’t mind a short winter. For some reason, I seem to think that as they’re adapted to it, in some way they want it to be a proper winter. I adapted for snow – bring it on!!
No normal chance of snow here, but you know what I mean. It’s cool enough in the mornings to need a cardigan and prefer long pants. I could do with a much longer walk before leaving for work, but we only have time for between half an hour and an hour. Having said that about the snow, I wonder if we’re going to see more of the “super cell” storms that happened over the summer (one of which was in Roma and resulted in hail so thick it looked like snow, where the next town out didn’t even get a shower)? I ask knowing the answer already – almost certainly. We’re far enough into our climate change slide that even in the super-quick response that is possible (but we as a nation have not yet decided to undertake) it would take years for the likelihood of “super cell” storms to subside.
The weather here is so fine otherwise – it’s hard to remember that the earth is still turning, but the sun has swung around to a completely different side of the house in the mornings and sets over a different roof, so that keeps me in step. Last night was perfect for looking at the sky. This is the real reason that I want to get an outdoor banana-lounge – the stars. Trash City isn’t as good for it as Ma&Pa’s farm, but it’s still pretty dim (lights wise in this instance) and the milky way is such a glory. Like a long walk, there’s something very calming in a long starbath.
It still gets to about 25 degrees during the day, and the sun is strong enough to burn, but this morning all of the Gadagi trees along Toongarra road had half-turned their leaves to brown. I sometimes wonder if there’s any part of the tree that can reflect on how hard it’s working today because of a pre-emptive autumn response? On the other hand, if they aren’t going to start feeling Autumn now that it’s May (when it technically started in March!) then I don’t know when they will! Maybe some deciduous trees don’t mind a short winter. For some reason, I seem to think that as they’re adapted to it, in some way they want it to be a proper winter. I adapted for snow – bring it on!!
No normal chance of snow here, but you know what I mean. It’s cool enough in the mornings to need a cardigan and prefer long pants. I could do with a much longer walk before leaving for work, but we only have time for between half an hour and an hour. Having said that about the snow, I wonder if we’re going to see more of the “super cell” storms that happened over the summer (one of which was in Roma and resulted in hail so thick it looked like snow, where the next town out didn’t even get a shower)? I ask knowing the answer already – almost certainly. We’re far enough into our climate change slide that even in the super-quick response that is possible (but we as a nation have not yet decided to undertake) it would take years for the likelihood of “super cell” storms to subside.
The weather here is so fine otherwise – it’s hard to remember that the earth is still turning, but the sun has swung around to a completely different side of the house in the mornings and sets over a different roof, so that keeps me in step. Last night was perfect for looking at the sky. This is the real reason that I want to get an outdoor banana-lounge – the stars. Trash City isn’t as good for it as Ma&Pa’s farm, but it’s still pretty dim (lights wise in this instance) and the milky way is such a glory. Like a long walk, there’s something very calming in a long starbath.
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