I love travelling.
No, that's not quite right. I love being between a known place and a visited place. The travelling itself is often very tiring, or noisy or uncomfortable (or all and more), but that gap between stepping out of the daily habit and the worn paths, and the stepping into the new schedule is a space especially made for daydreaming, imagining and enjoying.
To be in transit even sounds temporary. Much more so than the slightly stuffy "in transition". I'm not always a chrysalis! I particularly enjoy being on planes, with a view of clouds. Surely that has got to be the furtherest from everyday that normal people can attain. I daydreamed about the plane being the cocoon, and that when I would disembark, I'd go to the loos, change my clothes, turn my wig around, discard my broken suitcase and walk out someone unknown. Someone new and fresh for this adventure.
Of course, when I do land, my mind is already fixated on walking quickly getting the luggage, getting the train, making the connections, did I remember the tickets for the show? Oh it's raining, thank goodness for the warning to bring a brolly and zoom zoom zoom off we go again and my half-formed stoies and ideas don't get written down and so errode away as my blood sugar drives me to find some food and get to the next connection. To stride along and not get walked over by these strange creatures that are the locals here. So big, so very elsewhere.
Arrival is the end.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Mules Film
The last few days I've had a chance to meet a couple of local animators and learn about their project. I have never had much exposure to people making stop-motion animation. Everyone knows the basic idea - moving characters/props a fraction at a time, a frame at a time to build up a moving image. It more common I think to see claymation.
Anyway to see the short 20 seconds or so that come from 2 days (or more!) of shooting is inspiring! They are also handcraft all the puppets, all the props and sets. It truly is an enormous creative undertaking! They started making the film in 2004 and so far have made 47 minutes of footage. It sounds so slow and painful, but talking to them about it, they describe it as a liberation to no longer worry about their actors and finding the right set or the money to rent things. They have huge bags of toys they use to make props with, as well as molding the puppets themselves. They shoot with a digital SLR, frame by frame (yes, they hand made their camera dolly too) and it all happens in a shed near the Ipswich Cemetery!
If you're interested you can find out more than you ever imagined there was to know at their online journal. It's meeting people like Miles and Julie that is the most rewarding part of my job.
Anyway to see the short 20 seconds or so that come from 2 days (or more!) of shooting is inspiring! They are also handcraft all the puppets, all the props and sets. It truly is an enormous creative undertaking! They started making the film in 2004 and so far have made 47 minutes of footage. It sounds so slow and painful, but talking to them about it, they describe it as a liberation to no longer worry about their actors and finding the right set or the money to rent things. They have huge bags of toys they use to make props with, as well as molding the puppets themselves. They shoot with a digital SLR, frame by frame (yes, they hand made their camera dolly too) and it all happens in a shed near the Ipswich Cemetery!
If you're interested you can find out more than you ever imagined there was to know at their online journal. It's meeting people like Miles and Julie that is the most rewarding part of my job.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Tough Call
If I was an American, today I would be gnawing the end of my pencil.
Who to vote for?
A feminist's dream candidate or an idealist's dream candidate?
Both of them have drawbacks of course. Clinton is a Boomer's Boomer and we know what we'll get more of (though I doubt that will include any inappropriate sexual liaisons, but good for her if she can add that in). Obama has the great speeches, but can he walk the talk? Has he got the chops?
I've been chasing my tail on this one for the past two weeks. Every time I think it is clear that one of them justifies my vote, another round of to-and-fro comes through. I am honestly undecided, for all the right reasons. I'm not on a fence, I'm not uninterested, I am really interested in this election outcome but for the first time in what feels like ages and ages, I honestly think it's an in-principal win-win.
Am I just being too naive?
After Thatcher I am not caught up in the idea of a national leader for gender's sake (although I'll admit to a pleasant frisson when Gillard took the reins over xmas) so I really am staying focused on what they offer as a leader. And that's the real crux of it. For the previous decade Australia was governed by a management team and the social and cultural consequences of that were enormous. I don't think that either of these candidates would generate those kind of problems, but it prompts the question - what kind of leadership do we think we deserve? What kind of leadership in our hearts do we hope for?
There's my own answer that I just keep coming back to. That politics and leadership needs to include some heart and vision. They both have it, but I think Obama's is catalytic in nature and it needs to be in the mix. The world needs the same people who are already powerful in industry, in commerce, in the financial markets to change their stripes, even just subtly, to make a difference in our planet surviving and humans being worth thriving.
That's a lot to ask, but every heart shifting a little more towards compassion, inclusion, cooperation has an impact beyond the simple and obvious immediacies.
Can I trust this hope or have I just been spun?
Who to vote for?
A feminist's dream candidate or an idealist's dream candidate?
Both of them have drawbacks of course. Clinton is a Boomer's Boomer and we know what we'll get more of (though I doubt that will include any inappropriate sexual liaisons, but good for her if she can add that in). Obama has the great speeches, but can he walk the talk? Has he got the chops?
I've been chasing my tail on this one for the past two weeks. Every time I think it is clear that one of them justifies my vote, another round of to-and-fro comes through. I am honestly undecided, for all the right reasons. I'm not on a fence, I'm not uninterested, I am really interested in this election outcome but for the first time in what feels like ages and ages, I honestly think it's an in-principal win-win.
Am I just being too naive?
After Thatcher I am not caught up in the idea of a national leader for gender's sake (although I'll admit to a pleasant frisson when Gillard took the reins over xmas) so I really am staying focused on what they offer as a leader. And that's the real crux of it. For the previous decade Australia was governed by a management team and the social and cultural consequences of that were enormous. I don't think that either of these candidates would generate those kind of problems, but it prompts the question - what kind of leadership do we think we deserve? What kind of leadership in our hearts do we hope for?
There's my own answer that I just keep coming back to. That politics and leadership needs to include some heart and vision. They both have it, but I think Obama's is catalytic in nature and it needs to be in the mix. The world needs the same people who are already powerful in industry, in commerce, in the financial markets to change their stripes, even just subtly, to make a difference in our planet surviving and humans being worth thriving.
That's a lot to ask, but every heart shifting a little more towards compassion, inclusion, cooperation has an impact beyond the simple and obvious immediacies.
Can I trust this hope or have I just been spun?
Monday, February 04, 2008
Geckoville
There's an utterly unnerving, unterrestial noise near my house at night.
An explosive cracking CHIT CHIT CHIT randomly smacks me in the head. It's a phenomenal sound, and scared the bejesus out of me for the first 2 months I was in the new place. I had no idea what it was and after the first time, but when I didn't die, I figured that it was largely benign. Besides, if whatever was making that kind of noise decided to attack, well, at least it would be over quickly.
Then mum was over one night. "Oh you've got Geckos!"
"Can you see one?" I asked (having just pretended that maybe it was a secret airforce jet making that noise).
"Didn't you just hear it?" she said, and didn't I look like a boob!?
So, it's geckos making that horrible sound. Since I learnt this, I've started paying a tiny bit more attention, and learnt that there's not just one very gregarious gecko co-habitating with us, but rather at least two, and more recently a little tacker. Gecko love! Yeah baby, feel my suction pads!! It's a regular frackin gecko love-in at my place.
Given that the alternative is spiders, I am very positive about the geckos. Arachnids are just too far away from my branch of the tree.
An explosive cracking CHIT CHIT CHIT randomly smacks me in the head. It's a phenomenal sound, and scared the bejesus out of me for the first 2 months I was in the new place. I had no idea what it was and after the first time, but when I didn't die, I figured that it was largely benign. Besides, if whatever was making that kind of noise decided to attack, well, at least it would be over quickly.
Then mum was over one night. "Oh you've got Geckos!"
"Can you see one?" I asked (having just pretended that maybe it was a secret airforce jet making that noise).
"Didn't you just hear it?" she said, and didn't I look like a boob!?
So, it's geckos making that horrible sound. Since I learnt this, I've started paying a tiny bit more attention, and learnt that there's not just one very gregarious gecko co-habitating with us, but rather at least two, and more recently a little tacker. Gecko love! Yeah baby, feel my suction pads!! It's a regular frackin gecko love-in at my place.
Given that the alternative is spiders, I am very positive about the geckos. Arachnids are just too far away from my branch of the tree.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Mattering Matters
How cool is it when someone, from pretty much out of nowhere, plops it into conversation that they're just stoked to hear from you, and that what you're doing matters to them just because it's *you*?!!?
I know that's a lot of exclamation marks, but it just feels good. You know, warm in the cold places and a little tingly around the mouth.
Mattering to someone else is a great feeling. It makes a big difference about facing all those humdrum hurdles in a day. It's also - strangely - easy to forget how much we do matter to people who know us, who love us, who watch us but may not ever say it. Why are human beings built in with such a sense of taking-for-grantedness? I'm sure there's a word somewhere for this part of human nature (if you know it, or would like to suggest one, please post!) or even a word for just getting bogged up with the crap we have to wade through (day job anybody) and lose sight of all the yummy things. Leading of course to that other dreaded scourge, the tacky chain mail letter....
I digress.
Back on message, back on message. Oh Yeah.
Mattering Matters.
Ask any quantum physicist.
I know that's a lot of exclamation marks, but it just feels good. You know, warm in the cold places and a little tingly around the mouth.
Mattering to someone else is a great feeling. It makes a big difference about facing all those humdrum hurdles in a day. It's also - strangely - easy to forget how much we do matter to people who know us, who love us, who watch us but may not ever say it. Why are human beings built in with such a sense of taking-for-grantedness? I'm sure there's a word somewhere for this part of human nature (if you know it, or would like to suggest one, please post!) or even a word for just getting bogged up with the crap we have to wade through (day job anybody) and lose sight of all the yummy things. Leading of course to that other dreaded scourge, the tacky chain mail letter....
I digress.
Back on message, back on message. Oh Yeah.
Mattering Matters.
Ask any quantum physicist.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Another word for SESSION
I've just started reading a new novel "A Disorder Peculiar to the Country" by Ken Kalfus. It was pressed firmly into my hands (with a smile) by Mez, along with the always cryptic "I would *love* to hear what you think."Well, I'm not sure where it will go from here, but after 20 pages I'm hooked by a wicked opening setup - a bitterly divorcing couple think each other have died in the september 11 suicide crashes in New York. Both of them experience the day through an unfolding sense of glee. If that's not a dark and clever environment to introduce characters, I don't know what will please you!
Today I'm struggling to keep up with the little red line scrolling down my calendar for the day. It is inexorably mowing down the time left to achieve anything off last week's to-do list. January is already in it's last 8 hours and somehow I need to deal, baby, and move on already. The Client is caught up in "'session', I just don't like 'session'. I want something generic and descriptive".
Don't we all?
That could almost be a request for a philosophy of life.
None the less, this word out of two pages of copy is a stumbling block, and there's no moving on until we resolve the emotions the word is generating. So another meeting pops into next week's schedule.
Writing at home is blocked too.
Possibly also on "session" in a different way.
There's time, that's not the problem.
Every night the ticking of the second hand slows down and time stretches out and retreats into a heat haze with mosquitoes and steroid-driven frogs as the woozy, trippy soundtrack. No, it's the held energy, the focus that's completely missing. Within an hour of leaving the aircon, my brain slows down, energy dissipates and then, shutdown.
Scratching suddenly feels like a triumph.
I need to find a way through this or I will end this year with nothing but a pointlessly over-informed opinion of free-to-air television.
Life is definitely too short for that!
Today I'm struggling to keep up with the little red line scrolling down my calendar for the day. It is inexorably mowing down the time left to achieve anything off last week's to-do list. January is already in it's last 8 hours and somehow I need to deal, baby, and move on already. The Client is caught up in "'session', I just don't like 'session'. I want something generic and descriptive".
Don't we all?
That could almost be a request for a philosophy of life.
None the less, this word out of two pages of copy is a stumbling block, and there's no moving on until we resolve the emotions the word is generating. So another meeting pops into next week's schedule.
Writing at home is blocked too.
Possibly also on "session" in a different way.
There's time, that's not the problem.
Every night the ticking of the second hand slows down and time stretches out and retreats into a heat haze with mosquitoes and steroid-driven frogs as the woozy, trippy soundtrack. No, it's the held energy, the focus that's completely missing. Within an hour of leaving the aircon, my brain slows down, energy dissipates and then, shutdown.
Scratching suddenly feels like a triumph.
I need to find a way through this or I will end this year with nothing but a pointlessly over-informed opinion of free-to-air television.
Life is definitely too short for that!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Joy of Riley
The sun came out this morning, and for a brief hour or so it was a clear sweet day. From bed I could hear seven or eight bird calls and when Riley and I went walking, it was lovely to hear the birds enjoying themselves and smell the hay of mown lawns. Riley was exuberant running and doing little hop jumps. Then throwing himself into the grass and rolling wriggling along on his side on his back, then trying to snorkel through it. Snuffling and huffing he had no cares or worries, just the sheer joy of being alive and having fun.
The sky was beautiful soft blue, clear and strong above, shading slightly to the edges of sight. Moon worked her way towards the brim, but was sadly fading as sun brightness pushed her to the background. But for our walk she was there and I love those times with sun and moon in the same sky. We’re all together.
The sky was beautiful soft blue, clear and strong above, shading slightly to the edges of sight. Moon worked her way towards the brim, but was sadly fading as sun brightness pushed her to the background. But for our walk she was there and I love those times with sun and moon in the same sky. We’re all together.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Status: Denied
The Company's New Year resolution was to withdraw net access to Facebook. Ah well, it had to happen sooner or later. You could almost feel the slow drag each morning as hundreds of slightly bored and disaffected staff started to idly log-in and check their buds, super-poke someone or upload some more fun-in-sun shots from the weekend at Wet'n'Wild or the Caxton.
Our new staff member who started this Tuesday looked at me incredulously "What do you mean you can't access any web email or networking?!"
"I *know*!" I said. "Stuck here in every way."
I meant to write yesterday, but I went to my boss's office to ask a single question (that needed a yes/no level answer) and lurched out gasping over 2 hours later with about 5 pages of action points. So, work has picked up again and things are quite busy. That's good really. Instead of it being hump day and me trying to find a way to motivate myself, it's already the end of Thursday. Excellent!
Roll the dice, get paid, pass Go, collect $200.
In other news, I am fascinated with Corey and his unfolding melodrama of the Myspace open party. What a modern moment! The publicity, the posed shots, the inarticulateness, the fuming parents copping flak for having such a dickhead for a son and/or for having left him unattended with an internet account. Hi-Larious! Almost as good as the storm this week in Trash City papers over a local being charged $10 for a chicken and salad sandwich at the new shopping centre. No really - it made the front page!! Plenty of finger-pointing in the Letter to the Editor sections too, I can tell you.
"You have to laugh," I tell myself "but don't try satirising it!"
Reality is plenty strange enough right now.
Our new staff member who started this Tuesday looked at me incredulously "What do you mean you can't access any web email or networking?!"
"I *know*!" I said. "Stuck here in every way."
I meant to write yesterday, but I went to my boss's office to ask a single question (that needed a yes/no level answer) and lurched out gasping over 2 hours later with about 5 pages of action points. So, work has picked up again and things are quite busy. That's good really. Instead of it being hump day and me trying to find a way to motivate myself, it's already the end of Thursday. Excellent!
Roll the dice, get paid, pass Go, collect $200.
In other news, I am fascinated with Corey and his unfolding melodrama of the Myspace open party. What a modern moment! The publicity, the posed shots, the inarticulateness, the fuming parents copping flak for having such a dickhead for a son and/or for having left him unattended with an internet account. Hi-Larious! Almost as good as the storm this week in Trash City papers over a local being charged $10 for a chicken and salad sandwich at the new shopping centre. No really - it made the front page!! Plenty of finger-pointing in the Letter to the Editor sections too, I can tell you.
"You have to laugh," I tell myself "but don't try satirising it!"
Reality is plenty strange enough right now.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
13 Crows
Riley and I went to the oval yesterday for a change of pace. I needed somewhere to walk that there was a path. It's wet everywhere all the time, and all the grasses have seeded. Icky. We went down and the oval had been slashed (at least some parks are getting cared for - everything else is badly overgrown - hence my desire for the paths. Although it does shit me a bit that even though there's no sport on it's still the sport field that gets first attention, not any recreational area. On the other hand, as I seem to be the only person walking for recreation, I can understand that it's too much to ask for an appreciative audience of 1).
Anyway. The grass hadn't been collected, just left there in huge clumps (don't start me) and there was a lot of crows strutting all over the place, cawing, pecking at clumps and generally behaving in a slightly gang-like manner. I know that in Europe there are all kinds of omens indicated by Ravens, their number and their activity. I wonder, are Ravens as common as crows? Everyone would be having omens left right and centre.
So I counted the crows and there were 13. "ooooh" I thought, "that might not be great...." but there were definitely 13, no getting around it, until shortly a whole nother gang flew in and then there were 23 or 24. It was hard to count them while they were milling around and really going for one particular large grey clump (which I was happy to continue supposing was just wet grass and not a rabbit). What kind of omen might this be? Abundance? Being beset by an overwhelming number of enemies? Don't be a rabbit under a slasher?
It remained unclear.
Riley and I did our two circumnavigations and got out of there. Afterall, what good are omens you don't understand when Breakfast is waiting?
Anyway. The grass hadn't been collected, just left there in huge clumps (don't start me) and there was a lot of crows strutting all over the place, cawing, pecking at clumps and generally behaving in a slightly gang-like manner. I know that in Europe there are all kinds of omens indicated by Ravens, their number and their activity. I wonder, are Ravens as common as crows? Everyone would be having omens left right and centre.
So I counted the crows and there were 13. "ooooh" I thought, "that might not be great...." but there were definitely 13, no getting around it, until shortly a whole nother gang flew in and then there were 23 or 24. It was hard to count them while they were milling around and really going for one particular large grey clump (which I was happy to continue supposing was just wet grass and not a rabbit). What kind of omen might this be? Abundance? Being beset by an overwhelming number of enemies? Don't be a rabbit under a slasher?
It remained unclear.
Riley and I did our two circumnavigations and got out of there. Afterall, what good are omens you don't understand when Breakfast is waiting?
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Fungus Estate
Riley and I went for a walk this morning down to an unpopulated estate. It has new roads, lights, footpaths, signposts, everything except houses. No houses. It backs onto one of the reserves, the Bremer, and a picturesque (but way too noisy) railway bridge. There's always plenty of birds in the trees, and as it's on a good rise, a great view of the swollen dirty river broiling it's way towards Brisbane.
I like walking that way because it's a walk that has decent paths and if the mood and the weather are right, we can do it a long way and take an hour, or the practical way and do it in 30 minutes. Riley likes it because it has plenty of sniffing and peeing, and some good stretches where he can have a good run.
The thing I noticed again today, is after all of the rain we've been having how many fungi grow wild. Such a huge variety of toadstools and weird things that look like something a giant animal coughed up out of it's throat. The colours range from softest ivory through to orange leather, and the structures too are amazing. Classic toadstools, and fake mushrooms, then the sides of leather, the blobby ones, the ridgy ones, tiny flimsy looking things just sketched lightly and really pointy ones, caricaturing themselves.
So we were walking through this estate, almost eerie in being completely empty of the houses it was designed for, but walking past a lush and continuous display of fungi. It was an odd juxtaposition, and really set the scene for us to be kidnapped by faeries or fall into a parallel world.
I don't think that happened, unless I've just been dreaming that I'm at work.
I will be a bit disappointed when people finally start building here, even though it is crazy to do all this expensive development and not use it. I wonder what the hold-up is? There aren't even any "For Sale" signs up. It feels so private at the moment, but we'll have to share it eventually. Until that time, Riley and I can sneak down there and dream our separate dreams.
I like walking that way because it's a walk that has decent paths and if the mood and the weather are right, we can do it a long way and take an hour, or the practical way and do it in 30 minutes. Riley likes it because it has plenty of sniffing and peeing, and some good stretches where he can have a good run.
The thing I noticed again today, is after all of the rain we've been having how many fungi grow wild. Such a huge variety of toadstools and weird things that look like something a giant animal coughed up out of it's throat. The colours range from softest ivory through to orange leather, and the structures too are amazing. Classic toadstools, and fake mushrooms, then the sides of leather, the blobby ones, the ridgy ones, tiny flimsy looking things just sketched lightly and really pointy ones, caricaturing themselves.
So we were walking through this estate, almost eerie in being completely empty of the houses it was designed for, but walking past a lush and continuous display of fungi. It was an odd juxtaposition, and really set the scene for us to be kidnapped by faeries or fall into a parallel world.
I don't think that happened, unless I've just been dreaming that I'm at work.
I will be a bit disappointed when people finally start building here, even though it is crazy to do all this expensive development and not use it. I wonder what the hold-up is? There aren't even any "For Sale" signs up. It feels so private at the moment, but we'll have to share it eventually. Until that time, Riley and I can sneak down there and dream our separate dreams.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
New Year: Same Me
Hiho!
welcome back to the blog one and all!
(This is a speed blog - I've set my timer at 10mins to make myself say hello.)
I have been in denial that 07 is done and dusted, and what better day to build a bridge and get over it that the 8th?! A week and a day! So how was your Festivus? The big news here is Helen! Ex-Cyclone Helen and the Dorothea Mackellar-type floods that's she's brought to the entire eastern seaboard it seems like. I would love it if only:
a) it was less hot and humid
b) there wasn't a really big tree in my yard that the family immediately identified as a "widow maker"
c) there was decent telly and I hadn't already run out of ROME and BSG S3!
Ma and Pa have been flooded-in on the farm now and then. They're rolling in it. A temporary creek has sprung up and is winding it's way through the front paddock. Complete with swimming ducks. Three months ago, we were just hoping the olive trees didn't die. Now the tanks and dams on the property have all overflowed, and the grass is back up to waist-height. Yay! Nature, what can I say?
In other news, going back to work has been a push. Even a little break like a week can really bump me out of all my structural habits (not hitting snooze when the alarm sounds!) and combined, well, there's lead weights on my feet as I drag myself to work in the mornings. I'm sure it will pass ... I heard today that Mars has been in a nasty retrograde mood. Well, if Mars says "talk to the hand" mortals ought to take it easy!
That's my 10min folks. Hope you and yours are well, and enjoying living.
Quote for the day from Neil Gaiman's blog:
"I'm only wearing black until they invent a darker colour."
welcome back to the blog one and all!
(This is a speed blog - I've set my timer at 10mins to make myself say hello.)
I have been in denial that 07 is done and dusted, and what better day to build a bridge and get over it that the 8th?! A week and a day! So how was your Festivus? The big news here is Helen! Ex-Cyclone Helen and the Dorothea Mackellar-type floods that's she's brought to the entire eastern seaboard it seems like. I would love it if only:
a) it was less hot and humid
b) there wasn't a really big tree in my yard that the family immediately identified as a "widow maker"
c) there was decent telly and I hadn't already run out of ROME and BSG S3!
Ma and Pa have been flooded-in on the farm now and then. They're rolling in it. A temporary creek has sprung up and is winding it's way through the front paddock. Complete with swimming ducks. Three months ago, we were just hoping the olive trees didn't die. Now the tanks and dams on the property have all overflowed, and the grass is back up to waist-height. Yay! Nature, what can I say?
In other news, going back to work has been a push. Even a little break like a week can really bump me out of all my structural habits (not hitting snooze when the alarm sounds!) and combined, well, there's lead weights on my feet as I drag myself to work in the mornings. I'm sure it will pass ... I heard today that Mars has been in a nasty retrograde mood. Well, if Mars says "talk to the hand" mortals ought to take it easy!
That's my 10min folks. Hope you and yours are well, and enjoying living.
Quote for the day from Neil Gaiman's blog:
"I'm only wearing black until they invent a darker colour."
Monday, December 24, 2007
Festivus
Please accept with no obligation, implied or implicit, our best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, low stress, nonaddictive, gender neutral celebration of the solstice holiday, practised with the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion or secular practices of your choice with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or the choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.
We also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2008, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make our country great (not to imply that Australia is necessarily greater than any other country) and without regard to the race, creed,color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee.
By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms:
This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal.
It is freelytransferable with no alteration to the original greeting.
It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her / himself or others and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher.
This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings, for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.
Note: No trees were harmed in the sending of this message; however, a significant number of electrons have been electromagnetically relocated.
We also wish you a fiscally successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2008, but not without due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures whose contributions to society have helped make our country great (not to imply that Australia is necessarily greater than any other country) and without regard to the race, creed,color, age, physical ability, religious faith or sexual preference of the wishee.
By accepting this greeting, you are accepting these terms:
This greeting is subject to clarification or withdrawal.
It is freelytransferable with no alteration to the original greeting.
It implies no promise by the wisher to actually implement any of the wishes for her / himself or others and is void where prohibited by law, and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wisher.
This wish is warranted to perform as expected within the usual application of good tidings, for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first, and warranty is limited to replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wisher.
Note: No trees were harmed in the sending of this message; however, a significant number of electrons have been electromagnetically relocated.
Suburban Rituals: Mowing
Over the weekend, I attempted to mow my yard.
Note "attempted".
There are many things I struggle with in life, far too many really, and sadly, this list is only being expanded by my half-hearted first foray into home ownership.
Since I moved in two months ago, every weekend has been pierced at various (read: early) hours of the day by the cacophonous mating call of the lesser two-stroke mower. A popular Queensland variant of this creature features an unusual symbiont - a weedy thin human male clad only in short short stubbies and the old style thin things. Hat/sunglasses are optional, as is a half-smoked durrie and blurry blue old tatts down the forearms, but accessories do make the man. Lawns are as close as Suburban Queensland seems to have to a soul. Gardens are nice, but you really just need a lawn. The "inifinity" lawn look is popular too - from the edge of your house to the kerb in one smooth unbroken golf-green.
Well, since it rained, I have been pleased to watch a variety of green things sprout and thrust their way competitively into the sunlight in my yard. Some resulted in yellow swaying flowers, some in tiny blue ones - leaving a very pretty haze of almost lilac blue, some just in giant woody tendril structures keen to make a bid for control of the house. I like the idea of a garden, eventually, but it has been a long way down the energy-consumption-priority list lately and I was happy just for it to be green.
When I lost Riley in the yard and had a minor freakout that the thing that lives in the bowels of the Deathstar had grabbed him, I realised it was time to mow. I borrowed the mower from Ma & Pa, got long pants, boots, hat, leather gloves, ear plugs on, over and in. Fired her up and commenced battle.
What an ordeal.
Painful, noisy, uncontrollable, rough, endless.
When the machine over heated after 20 minutes having done about one twelfth of the entire yard I was in complete concurrence.
This is going to take more planning. If I can only do a twelfth at a time, and the grass continues to grow at the current rate, then my initial computations suggest that I will be mowing this lawn for... roughly the REST OF MY NATURAL BORN LIFE.
So there's got to be some other options. Today I am trying to figure out what second job I can get so I can afford to pay to have the whole thing paved, or turned into the set of Narnia, or adding decking to every side of the house over the damn thing, or dug up and put to useful cultivation...
But I don't really have the energy for that either. It's all a bit much. Time for a cup of tea and a crack at the crossword.
Note "attempted".
There are many things I struggle with in life, far too many really, and sadly, this list is only being expanded by my half-hearted first foray into home ownership.
Since I moved in two months ago, every weekend has been pierced at various (read: early) hours of the day by the cacophonous mating call of the lesser two-stroke mower. A popular Queensland variant of this creature features an unusual symbiont - a weedy thin human male clad only in short short stubbies and the old style thin things. Hat/sunglasses are optional, as is a half-smoked durrie and blurry blue old tatts down the forearms, but accessories do make the man. Lawns are as close as Suburban Queensland seems to have to a soul. Gardens are nice, but you really just need a lawn. The "inifinity" lawn look is popular too - from the edge of your house to the kerb in one smooth unbroken golf-green.
Well, since it rained, I have been pleased to watch a variety of green things sprout and thrust their way competitively into the sunlight in my yard. Some resulted in yellow swaying flowers, some in tiny blue ones - leaving a very pretty haze of almost lilac blue, some just in giant woody tendril structures keen to make a bid for control of the house. I like the idea of a garden, eventually, but it has been a long way down the energy-consumption-priority list lately and I was happy just for it to be green.
When I lost Riley in the yard and had a minor freakout that the thing that lives in the bowels of the Deathstar had grabbed him, I realised it was time to mow. I borrowed the mower from Ma & Pa, got long pants, boots, hat, leather gloves, ear plugs on, over and in. Fired her up and commenced battle.
What an ordeal.
Painful, noisy, uncontrollable, rough, endless.
When the machine over heated after 20 minutes having done about one twelfth of the entire yard I was in complete concurrence.
This is going to take more planning. If I can only do a twelfth at a time, and the grass continues to grow at the current rate, then my initial computations suggest that I will be mowing this lawn for... roughly the REST OF MY NATURAL BORN LIFE.
So there's got to be some other options. Today I am trying to figure out what second job I can get so I can afford to pay to have the whole thing paved, or turned into the set of Narnia, or adding decking to every side of the house over the damn thing, or dug up and put to useful cultivation...
But I don't really have the energy for that either. It's all a bit much. Time for a cup of tea and a crack at the crossword.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Touching Base
Ma often used to say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all" and it got to be ingrained. That's not a handy habit for a writer. Life's going on all around, but I don't want to seem like a whinger, so the habit is to clam it up. Swallow it down and get on with going through the motions.
Ma does it herself - a phone call will run out of steam, and she'll say "well, there's nothing else to report" as though we're talking just to entertain me. This last month or so, I've been doing that to myself. Not talking just to be in touch and shoot the breeze, no, it's been a bit "nothing to report" as though there has to be something newsworthy going on in order to say - hey - what's good for dinner? or how funny is it that Dumbledore's meant to be gay? Or, man, I am bored! It's tough to heal the breach when you're not talking to yourself. There's no-one to be the go-between.
The thing I like about this time of year is that there's a push to be in touch *anyway*. If you're into the G-d thing one way or the other, or summer solstice, or just the end of the year (please, please, let the next one bring the good stuff!!) you can just send a message saying "I'm thinking about you, and wishing nice things into your life" and I think that's just brilliant.
So this morning I feel like I'm back talking to myself, and we're patching things up. She's given me some chocolate and said sorry, and I've promised not to shut her out and pretend like nothing's happening. Yeah, it's getting better. Our world seemed to shrink a lot this year and that's quite a weird experience. I think we've passed through the worst of the transition now, and starting to find a way to inject a bit more imagination and humour into things without resorting to outright denial and escapism will be good. (Note future tense there - still learning!)
Anyway, from us and Riley to you and yours, for no reason at all, have a great weekend!
Ma does it herself - a phone call will run out of steam, and she'll say "well, there's nothing else to report" as though we're talking just to entertain me. This last month or so, I've been doing that to myself. Not talking just to be in touch and shoot the breeze, no, it's been a bit "nothing to report" as though there has to be something newsworthy going on in order to say - hey - what's good for dinner? or how funny is it that Dumbledore's meant to be gay? Or, man, I am bored! It's tough to heal the breach when you're not talking to yourself. There's no-one to be the go-between.
The thing I like about this time of year is that there's a push to be in touch *anyway*. If you're into the G-d thing one way or the other, or summer solstice, or just the end of the year (please, please, let the next one bring the good stuff!!) you can just send a message saying "I'm thinking about you, and wishing nice things into your life" and I think that's just brilliant.
So this morning I feel like I'm back talking to myself, and we're patching things up. She's given me some chocolate and said sorry, and I've promised not to shut her out and pretend like nothing's happening. Yeah, it's getting better. Our world seemed to shrink a lot this year and that's quite a weird experience. I think we've passed through the worst of the transition now, and starting to find a way to inject a bit more imagination and humour into things without resorting to outright denial and escapism will be good. (Note future tense there - still learning!)
Anyway, from us and Riley to you and yours, for no reason at all, have a great weekend!
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Innocent Fantasies
This morning was a lot like yesterday morning. You know how the work week goes. Alarm clock, stiff knees, bored with breakfast, briefly ponder clothes and pull on almost exactly the same thing again.
But I got a gorgeous phone message from Mez, that she's been daydreaming that we were hanging out together today with her new puppy instead of us both going to work in separate cities. As soon as I read it, I joined in, and imagined us baking something for afternoon tea and maybe I could finally teach her that double handed patience card game. I don't know why I still teach people how to play it - I nearly always loose. I guess it's like Scrabble - I like playing it because it's a good excuse to spend time together and keep the hands busy while joking and laughing and story telling can go on.
Such innocent fantasies. How lovely to know that there's still a source of enjoyment and pleasure to be had that doesn't need a copyright permission or is sullied by a badly made movie spin-off console game. It would be better, of course, to wag work today and be teleported to your lounge room and have a laugh, but there you go. In a moment of personal revelation to you, I confide that I have these innocent fantasies much more often than any other kind.
My favourite one lately, from about 2 weeks ago, was a fully-fledged dream. I was in New York promoting the new book, and Neil Gaiman had a night free in his schedule, so we met at a family restaurant he knows and had dinner. It was good to catch up and the food was well made. Afterwards, we said goodbye on the pavement and he walked back to his friends' place and I caught a cab to the hotel. It was good to see him so relaxed.
But I got a gorgeous phone message from Mez, that she's been daydreaming that we were hanging out together today with her new puppy instead of us both going to work in separate cities. As soon as I read it, I joined in, and imagined us baking something for afternoon tea and maybe I could finally teach her that double handed patience card game. I don't know why I still teach people how to play it - I nearly always loose. I guess it's like Scrabble - I like playing it because it's a good excuse to spend time together and keep the hands busy while joking and laughing and story telling can go on.
Such innocent fantasies. How lovely to know that there's still a source of enjoyment and pleasure to be had that doesn't need a copyright permission or is sullied by a badly made movie spin-off console game. It would be better, of course, to wag work today and be teleported to your lounge room and have a laugh, but there you go. In a moment of personal revelation to you, I confide that I have these innocent fantasies much more often than any other kind.
My favourite one lately, from about 2 weeks ago, was a fully-fledged dream. I was in New York promoting the new book, and Neil Gaiman had a night free in his schedule, so we met at a family restaurant he knows and had dinner. It was good to catch up and the food was well made. Afterwards, we said goodbye on the pavement and he walked back to his friends' place and I caught a cab to the hotel. It was good to see him so relaxed.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Formalising an Accent
Name?
Jayke.
J-A-K-E?
nah - J-A-Y-K-E.
pause...
Aussie Bogan parents huh?
Yeah, 'fraid so.
Poor bastard. Next!
Jayke.
J-A-K-E?
nah - J-A-Y-K-E.
pause...
Aussie Bogan parents huh?
Yeah, 'fraid so.
Poor bastard. Next!
Saturday, December 01, 2007
What Happened to November?
...'cause last thing I knew it was October, and things were getting kinda busy.
Gee, you look away for just a minute and the whole political landscape of the country changes!
In more thrilling personal news, I had two (2!) separate house guests during November - Mez and MsJaye both made the trek north and braved the humidity. What fun! Such glee! That makes it four this year - how spoilt and loved I am!
Ipswich remains a lonely exile and this last week has been quiet as well, due to my long-suffering dvd player going on the blink. Ack! No cds, no music other than the radio. Ever hopeful, and well trained by years of using microsoft, I turn it on again each night, patiently waiting for it to recommence operations. After all, this is exactly what happened earlier in the year! I take this time to do a little reading or explore exactly how early I can fall asleep.
I planted out the fig tree and found it very rewarding to dig a hole, and fill it in again. The fig is doing well, which is more than I can say for the mulberry, which has suffered a nasty lopping from the back neighbours. May fortune piss on them! There has been plenty plenty plenty of rain so everything is growing as though to catch up for two years of being thirsty. Ma & Pa's place is an utter biological riot. If you sit still, it feels like you can hear things growing. Kinda creepy. Maybe I've been reading too much scifi.
No, not possible to read too much scifi.
Oh, and the election... well I'm cynically hopeful. Is that possible? Yes. I've had my naive hopes trashed by the ALP in the past, and let's face it - what a disappointing piss-ant backflipper Peter "Once had principles" Garrett has been.
The trouble with elections is that a politician always gets in.
Okay.
Anyway,
December.
December already.
I'm not ready for december already.
Gee, you look away for just a minute and the whole political landscape of the country changes!
In more thrilling personal news, I had two (2!) separate house guests during November - Mez and MsJaye both made the trek north and braved the humidity. What fun! Such glee! That makes it four this year - how spoilt and loved I am!
Ipswich remains a lonely exile and this last week has been quiet as well, due to my long-suffering dvd player going on the blink. Ack! No cds, no music other than the radio. Ever hopeful, and well trained by years of using microsoft, I turn it on again each night, patiently waiting for it to recommence operations. After all, this is exactly what happened earlier in the year! I take this time to do a little reading or explore exactly how early I can fall asleep.
I planted out the fig tree and found it very rewarding to dig a hole, and fill it in again. The fig is doing well, which is more than I can say for the mulberry, which has suffered a nasty lopping from the back neighbours. May fortune piss on them! There has been plenty plenty plenty of rain so everything is growing as though to catch up for two years of being thirsty. Ma & Pa's place is an utter biological riot. If you sit still, it feels like you can hear things growing. Kinda creepy. Maybe I've been reading too much scifi.
No, not possible to read too much scifi.
Oh, and the election... well I'm cynically hopeful. Is that possible? Yes. I've had my naive hopes trashed by the ALP in the past, and let's face it - what a disappointing piss-ant backflipper Peter "Once had principles" Garrett has been.
The trouble with elections is that a politician always gets in.
Okay.
Anyway,
December.
December already.
I'm not ready for december already.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Quote from Flaubert - and he knew a thing or two!!
“Be steady and well-ordered in your life so that you can be fierce and original in your work.”
– Gustave Flaubert
– Gustave Flaubert
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
The Sounds of Clucking
There was a moment over the weekend when I realised that despite me not enjoying Ipswich as a cultural centre, my new place in and of itself hits all of the points I wrote down at the end of Mastery when we were dreaming of what we wanted our future to hold.
This was about four years ago now, and at that time, the idea that I might one day be a worthy citizen for a mortgage was ludicrous, bordering on delusional. To sit and write out "I want a place surrounded by trees so I can hear birds-song, and there's plenty of natural light, and wood and books. There's beautiful things, a place for my desk and it feels like home. There's a gas stove and a bath tub and music fills it. It is a happy home" was an act of faith almost beyond me.
One of the things that I didn't know I should put on that list, was chooks. I like the idea of chooks, but I am no where near uber-gardener capacity in terms of even planning the garden, let alone caring for food producers, but a neighbour very nearby has some and the morning chook noise is incredibly comforting and pleasurable. I stand in my kitchen, making tea with the cheerful red kettle on the singing gas stove, talking away to the dog (the cat already doesn't listen) and over the fence and between the hills hoists comes the sounds of clucking.
I am holding off putting a clock on the wall in a nod to this beautiful period in the morning when there's tea, the paper the dog and the chooks. A brief interlude of life for living without email and beeping calendar appointments. In a good, basic way, it's starting to feel like a home. Like maybe my home.
This was about four years ago now, and at that time, the idea that I might one day be a worthy citizen for a mortgage was ludicrous, bordering on delusional. To sit and write out "I want a place surrounded by trees so I can hear birds-song, and there's plenty of natural light, and wood and books. There's beautiful things, a place for my desk and it feels like home. There's a gas stove and a bath tub and music fills it. It is a happy home" was an act of faith almost beyond me.
One of the things that I didn't know I should put on that list, was chooks. I like the idea of chooks, but I am no where near uber-gardener capacity in terms of even planning the garden, let alone caring for food producers, but a neighbour very nearby has some and the morning chook noise is incredibly comforting and pleasurable. I stand in my kitchen, making tea with the cheerful red kettle on the singing gas stove, talking away to the dog (the cat already doesn't listen) and over the fence and between the hills hoists comes the sounds of clucking.
I am holding off putting a clock on the wall in a nod to this beautiful period in the morning when there's tea, the paper the dog and the chooks. A brief interlude of life for living without email and beeping calendar appointments. In a good, basic way, it's starting to feel like a home. Like maybe my home.
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