Suffragrette City and new encounters...
"We both agreed, as thirtysomethings, that the best part of going to a party nowadays was dressing for it. After all, the party itself would be unlikely to produce any surprises or, indeed, sexual encounters, and you always knew you would be going home, alone, in a taxi. A N&P, a network and plumage party, was our code name for such barren social events and with that in mind we had spent an hour at home selecting outfits."' (Suffragette City-Kate Muir, pp64-65)
Have been reading this on and off for the past few days, keep getting distracted (by newspapers, ideas for a drawing, shopping for DVDs, cycling, procastinating, picking basil and tomatoes from my vegie patch, coaching Mr A in real estate, washing clothes, packing my bags for the trip to Sydney this week). It's nowhere near the quality of her writing in WEST COAST, but she creates an engaging character: Albertine, who pretends to be pregnant to get ideas for her art and meets an interesting film maker (who specialises in prison documentaries) at the dog park. Here is her description of them going for a bite to eat together:
"But apart from menu selection, we were not behaving as a typical man and woman on a first date. In fact, I didn't feel this was a date at all. I detected no tension, no fear, and no desire to run to the bathroom to check that my dirty bra strap wasn't poking out from my sundress."
I was thinking of this as I checked in seagreen, and read her description of her social life, filled as it was with interesting and pleasurable pursuits, but the concern that it didn't engage her in interaction with potential mates. How is our social life, the part that enriches our soul, able to engage us with meaningful new encounters? What part of our worlds do we engage in when we are prepared to meet and talk with new people, for both romantic and platonic reasons? I always think that it's an encounters of minds, a creative outlet, a sharing of a social justice passion, or a dramatic event like a car crash, that makes you focus on the otherness of that other person. (And yes, I can see the car crash is a recycling of the being rescued and falling in love story).
When I think of the bush fires, and the tragedy of it all, I also wonder about what new possibilities may evolve. Will sharing houses with others be more meaningful, will their be bereaved people who find comfort in each other? Sean Penn said in an interview that when a house of his burnt down it was liberating, that he had no regrets, that it ended up being a blessing and freed him from thinking he needed all those things... and I think he brought that energy and liberation to how he directed In The Wild.... so even as I take steps towards permanency, of a sort (of a very belated delayed late blossom into adulthood kind of way) I remember that it's okay to lose it all and start again.
Have been reading this on and off for the past few days, keep getting distracted (by newspapers, ideas for a drawing, shopping for DVDs, cycling, procastinating, picking basil and tomatoes from my vegie patch, coaching Mr A in real estate, washing clothes, packing my bags for the trip to Sydney this week). It's nowhere near the quality of her writing in WEST COAST, but she creates an engaging character: Albertine, who pretends to be pregnant to get ideas for her art and meets an interesting film maker (who specialises in prison documentaries) at the dog park. Here is her description of them going for a bite to eat together:
"But apart from menu selection, we were not behaving as a typical man and woman on a first date. In fact, I didn't feel this was a date at all. I detected no tension, no fear, and no desire to run to the bathroom to check that my dirty bra strap wasn't poking out from my sundress."
I was thinking of this as I checked in seagreen, and read her description of her social life, filled as it was with interesting and pleasurable pursuits, but the concern that it didn't engage her in interaction with potential mates. How is our social life, the part that enriches our soul, able to engage us with meaningful new encounters? What part of our worlds do we engage in when we are prepared to meet and talk with new people, for both romantic and platonic reasons? I always think that it's an encounters of minds, a creative outlet, a sharing of a social justice passion, or a dramatic event like a car crash, that makes you focus on the otherness of that other person. (And yes, I can see the car crash is a recycling of the being rescued and falling in love story).
When I think of the bush fires, and the tragedy of it all, I also wonder about what new possibilities may evolve. Will sharing houses with others be more meaningful, will their be bereaved people who find comfort in each other? Sean Penn said in an interview that when a house of his burnt down it was liberating, that he had no regrets, that it ended up being a blessing and freed him from thinking he needed all those things... and I think he brought that energy and liberation to how he directed In The Wild.... so even as I take steps towards permanency, of a sort (of a very belated delayed late blossom into adulthood kind of way) I remember that it's okay to lose it all and start again.
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