it's time

summer holidays! there is nothing better. my freckles have come back; so have the bathers and the salty taste of the sea and the waves well they've never stopped, only i stopped hearing their roar. what an excellent way to end the year - feeling full of this

hi ho silver

till human voices wake us

my sister once gave me a photoalbum bought from an odds and ends shop on duthy st. it's full of photographs of people, a family album; people at the beach, at a wedding, in their finery. their setting is europe, they appear wealthy; the photos are not in chronological order, but first ones apear to have been taken in the mid-1920s. there are no photos from the early 30s; they begin again in the 50s.

initially i found the photographs fascinating, and peered at them as if a puzzle, trying to figure out places and dates. who were these people? it almost felt like a debt i owed them, to attend to their photographs, to pay them heed.



"The most transitory of things, a shadow, the proverbial emblem of all that is fleeting and momentary, may be fettered by the spells of our "natural magic", and may be fixed forever in the position which it seemed only destined for a single instant to occupy." (William Henry Fox Talbot)

(who is that, hiding behind the tree?)

the pictures were valuable because they were traces of presence, of life.

But then, I forgot about them. (those intense but fleeting infatuations; fickle)

I found them yesterday, and felt the same guilt. How could i not treasure them? Their poignancy? "Photography is an elegaic art, a twilight art. Most subjects photographed are, just by virtue of being photographed, touched with pathos." (s. sontag)




That paradox of the photograph: its capacity to defy the instant by capturing it; and yet because it can capture innumerable instants, their value seeps away, the instant multiplies into meaninglessness.

a time for giving

"Professor Whitaker says the "core business of the university is not financially sustainable"." The reason for any university's being is teaching and research. If they don't fit into the economic model, what happens? [Prof Whitaker says, there'll be "some cuts" in courses (if the circle doesn't fit the square, make it fit)].

**
Once in christmas past, dad bought hugo a gift: a pig's ear. there was much revulsion all round, but hugo loved it. the ear was banned from the house, but for weeks afterwards you would find him in a corner, gnawing away. he never really had a girlfriend, but he loved that pig's ear.

in beijing

it's got the feeling that it's heading into the future, and just by being there so are you - but it's better than that: when i was there, for the first time (not england, not europe, not even crazy india) in a place i felt located in a full, confusing, historical present: the past's traces are overt, but so are the future's, both tug at you but they are only part of, rather than explaining, the present; there is a crazy amount of money, and there is an obscene amount of poverty - and there are more people than i can imagine lives for; there are things i expected, and situations i was silenced by.

and all of this was not abstract, but felt. and i felt alive, and pushed and pulled and driven and in amongst it all. if i didn't have schemes for next year, i'd be looking for work to take me back over there. there are a thousand and one stories to beijing; i don't know any of them, but i will try and write something of what i saw...

these depths, this semistillness

so much complexity in who and what we are. it's beautiful and strange. here, now.

a close up of microglia (non-nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord, that take out cells that are damaged, or your basic cell debris. so i'm told).

(image from melb museum, from a trip there a long time ago)

i thought i'd slip in a token that was in keeping with the spirit of the season - the season of shark frenzy, i mean. here we've got wall to wall shark fins, in a beijing fish market

i am very much looking forward to seeing the lemony snicket film, whether it's miserable or not. i only just found out about it being made into a film! why did no one tell me.


this is the view from one of my ex-homes. it's been there for years; an odd little memorial. i was there with a friend tonight, and of all the things in that backyard, this is what most triggers memories of that time. john scott.

actually, when we were sitting outside, just before i took this, a rat ran along the fence to my left. 2 metres away! in daylight! i also remembered why it was good to move away.
--
and then there are summer nights; they can be so bittersweet. when you check in with someone who ... maybe wasn't so intoxicating and strong after all.

someone once suggested we are like parallel lines, extending all ways into space; some converge, and others swerve away from each other. learning to tell the difference - now there's a task.

little things

balmy weather. this is what we listen to.
--
(let me have my moment of cheese)
i work with international kids. it's been luck - this has been my year off, not something planned out to the nth degree; and i've come to love it (tho it ends in jan). i get to do the fun stuff - others can worry about grades and visas and responsible things; i hang out with people, we work collaboratively on projects. not all kids are 'trouble', or in trouble. but some are. one girl - z - has had a rough year. but we've inched along and worked out how to not annoy each other too much, even to work productively. today i ran into her, and she was ... just beaming; she's got a job, she hands out the messenger in the city. she's got a corner, she's got a beat; she's got her blue jacket and her stack of papers. and i haven't seen anyone so happy in a long time: z handing out that paper, smiling and chatting with passersby.
it was contagious; i came home smiling.

+ today some of the lucky ones graduated. they came in wearing their gowns, in all their glory; after all that hard work, there was that beautiful sense of life full in its moment.

now i'm not an animal-it's-fantastic fan; but, aside from my dog, this fellow is worth a photo. as well as construction workers, my daytime work company is ducks. this fellow (+ his/her partner) wait for me each morning; ok maybe they don't, but i'm the first to work, and they're there; and when there's the standard clock-on hour they've gone. this morning they sat patiently whilst i took photos for proof. this one though was the proudest and best looking of the lot

really?

New Yorker magazine once described Adelaide as “possibly the last well planned and contented metropolis on earth”.

contented - interesting choice of adjective

--
tho they could be talking in past tense, as if of an extinct species

winner takes all

there are construction workers sitting outside my window.
'how was your maccas?'
'i'm full, i'm not hungry; i'm full.'
led to big debate about quality of mcd's meat.
'i wanna see the pattie before it goes on to the grill, and after.'
'aw but -'
'nah mate nah i worked there [voice raises], i used to work there, and all i'm saying is i'd wanna see it before it goes on, and after. you need to see what they're saying is meat, all i'm saying.'
'yeah, well [more concilatory now], i think what happened was he had two bacon and egg mcmuffins, and there was something crunchy...'

now they have geared up and are scaling the building. they're generally pretty cool guys, but there are a few crusties in amongst them. it was funny last week; there were a few people up on the 5th floor, and the foreman was on ground level with a megaphone, directing important action - but when i listen, this is what he was saying: 'so that's 2 flat whites with 2 sugars and 1 cappaccino...'



--

"It's not that I wanted to win just for the sake of winning. It's the fact that PeopleSoft is instrumental to our strategy" says Oracle - and after 18 months of bitter + nasty battles. uhuh.

(tho having worked with psft - and aren't there companies suing them in the us? - think the buyout is a waste of time. start from scratch and build something that works. you'd save some of those billions.)

car song

the car i drive is old. not circa 1991; i mean old. it was my grandfather's, and was built and put on the road before i'd even been born. i have driven it on and off for a few years; first, when my grandfather died and willed the car to my father - i'd just received my licence. but then i moved out of home, into the city, and it was unnecessary. which was a big relief. by this stage, like when you get to know a person, the car had relaxed and revealed its less appealing traits to me. i don't mean engine problems; it was more the colour (unmentionable; it is the only car in this particular colour, and if i mention it i will lose my anonymity), the shape (small yet definitive, as someone who is overtly innofensive but consistently annoying is; think rachael from this life), the sound (revs and roars), the experience of driving it (putting along, but with extra sound; loudly).

anyway, in the past few years the car and i have come to have an uncomfortable partnership. i've borrowed it periodically, but always returned it to dad, refusing any ownership. however, each time i have begun to consider buying a new car, i've run overseas or bought computing toys instead. and so eventually i've come back, time and again, to the old car.

i was driving it along greenhill road yesterday when i realised suddenly that it was the oldest car on the road. sometimes it feels like this, but as you begin to pay more attention you can see those more ancient generations with their wheels still turning. but this time, i realised that i couldn't see anything nearly as old as this; it looked like its familiars had died. it was a relic. i was driving a historical relic.

the more i peered around, the more convinced i was. and am - this entire weekend i have been peering at cars and their number plates. mine begins with an 's' - try and beat it! impossible. the closest i saw was an old jeep, and that was still a 't'. generally, the cars you think are old are 'u's: nothing on this one.

but as i putted onwards in the oldest car on the road (and yes, the sun was setting), i realised in a wonder-years moment that although i do hate the car and refuse to reveal it to anyone who hasn't passed the blood-brother/sister test, i do know it so well as to love it in a way. it's that familiarity: i know that the first time i start it, as soon as i try and make it move it will cut out and i'll have to start up again. i know that you can't wind down the passenger window (and that it's held in place with a chip of wood). i know that strong, healthy rev-sound it makes as it puts along at 60 (one of the few times it's happy). that 'cling' sound it makes when you slam the door, which is the glass rattling, which might break one day soon. i know that sinking feeling when you go out on to the street and see it in full glory, waiting for you, winking at everyone.

there's just no other car like it. and really - how good is that engine?? they just don't make cars like that anymore.

so yeah those anat xmas drinks...last year it was hotter - by a lot - but after the main downpour, it turned fun. even - uh - discovered the dance floor.

and the bar was the same spot as last year.
***
thundersqualls tommorrow

you were right about the stars

sometimes, sleep is the answer.

superhero powers have been restored! i've got a grin to greet the day with + there was even singing in the shower this morning.

all the better to see with

my sister has some pretty fine gladys. and they're better to look at than today's grey sky, and they're better to read about than my bleak world mood

good and no so good

one of the better things in life is that feeling you get after a good meal; a happy sigh. this was a typical lunch; see that dish to the right? it's a staple beijing dish; it was offered almost everywhere i went - and needless to say, it was pretty good. peanuts, chilli, chicken, a hint of something green and a magic sauce; it was good. but i've never seen it anywhere outside of the country; i can't remember what it was called. beers were mandatory with lunch - and you get one long-neck per person (they're about 30-40 cents). and i ain't one to question local custom...in fact, the whole deal was cheap - this particular outing would cost less than AUS$4.00 - for two. no, i ain't one to question local custom...




today was one of those days when you get the feeling of no good within minutes of getting out of bed. [cue big sigh]; one of those. this is the cost of leaving - sometimes you come back, and you have to resume all that it felt so good to slip out of. still, there are heavier loads; and those wheels on keep turning

carry your own

you want to know one weird thing about beijing? they sell toilet paper with no roll in the middle. i'm guessing you just use force to get it onto the toilet paper holder.

(this would be in private homes/swanky clubs + hotels. the average middle-class restaurant has the squat. drip dry. and the cheap alley-way hole-in-the-wall has, well, a back alley for you to use.)

the eagle's landed

home.

i don't know if the sky is any bigger down here; it's the air i'm surprised at. so clean and sweet! breathing is delicious.