end of september
Thanks to leperman I thought it about time to come back and write.
Ah, weekend. Spent much time navel gazing, watching dvds (The Dreamers), reading, watching rain fall across my backyard and panorama. Listened to Tracksuit play at Soak yesterday evening, wined and dined with housemates and hangers on Saturday night, sang and danced along to Lionel Richie Friday night at P's house.
How good is Lionel Richie?
Also had a solo grief purging session Saturday noon at Battery Point. Took take out bottles of pale ale to the end of a crickety looking jetty, and sobbed until I felt as though all the bad spirits had been let out. It did help. As did the discovery that for every emotion i was experiencing, there was a Lionel Richie song to accompany it. Say you, say me was a particular support; as has been all the tunes from Patti Smith's EASTER.
Also intriguing to think of a recent Ruth Ostrow column she wrote about a friend... said friend missed out on a job but it ended up being a humanising experience for her, made her more approachable, more able to experience comforting connections with others. Has been my experience with one of my colleagues (whose astute perceptions and encouragement were well needed) and also with flatmate and other hangers on.
Have been thinking also of obsessions...
A few years back, when browsing amongst the shelves of my favourite oxfram bookshop in the north lanes of brighton, I found an old dazed and confused magaZine with an excellent interview with PJ Harvey. the content was so deep/visceral/cerebral/yet natural/nature connected taht I shipped it back to Adelaide. Where of course I lost it. Anyhow, the essence of the interview was how PJ Harvey was describing her musical inspirations. Her study of art, sculpture, participation in art shows still with old friends, her family and friends in the West Country, her house by the sea. And how she collects sea shells, which she keeps on a fireplace because they meant something, which she wanted to hold on to... but she couldn't, eventually you forget why you needed them.
Ah, weekend. Spent much time navel gazing, watching dvds (The Dreamers), reading, watching rain fall across my backyard and panorama. Listened to Tracksuit play at Soak yesterday evening, wined and dined with housemates and hangers on Saturday night, sang and danced along to Lionel Richie Friday night at P's house.
How good is Lionel Richie?
Also had a solo grief purging session Saturday noon at Battery Point. Took take out bottles of pale ale to the end of a crickety looking jetty, and sobbed until I felt as though all the bad spirits had been let out. It did help. As did the discovery that for every emotion i was experiencing, there was a Lionel Richie song to accompany it. Say you, say me was a particular support; as has been all the tunes from Patti Smith's EASTER.
Also intriguing to think of a recent Ruth Ostrow column she wrote about a friend... said friend missed out on a job but it ended up being a humanising experience for her, made her more approachable, more able to experience comforting connections with others. Has been my experience with one of my colleagues (whose astute perceptions and encouragement were well needed) and also with flatmate and other hangers on.
Have been thinking also of obsessions...
A few years back, when browsing amongst the shelves of my favourite oxfram bookshop in the north lanes of brighton, I found an old dazed and confused magaZine with an excellent interview with PJ Harvey. the content was so deep/visceral/cerebral/yet natural/nature connected taht I shipped it back to Adelaide. Where of course I lost it. Anyhow, the essence of the interview was how PJ Harvey was describing her musical inspirations. Her study of art, sculpture, participation in art shows still with old friends, her family and friends in the West Country, her house by the sea. And how she collects sea shells, which she keeps on a fireplace because they meant something, which she wanted to hold on to... but she couldn't, eventually you forget why you needed them.
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