March
Today on freecycle someone posted this:
"I have the following, to go together or separately:
1: A set of digital-readout scales. Does body fat calculation too. Not currently working but probably really easy tto fix (I just can't be bothered at the moment :-P)
2: One large tapestry, in lap frame, with the wool needed to complete it. It's a sunset beach scene as far as I can make out. It's pretty old (I inherited it from my late mother in law) and I'm never going to finish it. Take it for a project, or take it for the lap frame!
3: One alarm clock radio. Working the last time it was used."
It reminds me of when I borrow a book from the library and the previous person's borrowing list is still tucked in; the small glimpse you get of someone's life, their likes, cultural influences etc.
Today I walked around the west end of the city; the walk made me realise how long it had been since I'd properly walked around that area. THere are probably still many side streets I've never been down. When I can be bothered, I can do a photo essay. Snapped the morocco themed retail outlet, which has ornate arabic tiling on the side; the rear of the mosque; a tapesty art piece made by ex Mt Gambier artist Ryan Sims adjacent to graffiti art; a side line that seemed to have carefully chosen contrasting paint work. Lu slept through it all; twas a hot day.
Still reading Bicycle Diaries, which again reminds you of the benefit of walking through city streets, and realised I've done a reasonable amount of that: Berlin, Brighton, Bristol, Hobart, Adelaide, Melbourne. Not so much Sydney-always felt as though I was sticking to main thoroughfares. Sydney doesn't have the residential/after hours occupancy feel of Melbourne, nor the pedestrian friendliness of smaller but busier cities like Brighton. I guess in Sydney it would be more of walking through Newtown or Surry Hills.
He had a good riff on beauty, inspired by Berlin: "Some people find beauty hard to define-often things we at first find ugly or strange grown on us and we disocver a depth and beauty that can be more profound than mere prettiness. " He had a friend who was an art dealer that had passed on a now-successful painter for being too beautiful-and not interesting enough for him.
But I think very great beauty, beauty that is immediate, can still be interesting. But if you drop your bar for defining it and then find yourself swamped by it (old castles, sunsets, magnificent coastal scenes), you build an immunity to it. Right now I am surrounded by great skies-sometimes they occur in the day time, late afternoon, sometimes at sunset. Yet I forget, I forget to be outside photographing them, or photographing them with the right tools, and I take it for granted. Living in rural NSW, I would be wistful for the city but ignore the beautiful sunsets.
Also reading/listening: Baby Beethoven (for my son); Vampire Weekend; the first biography by James Freud (when he's in denial, recounting his 70s and 80s era of being a drugged up musician); Satisfaction and This Life. Being a stay at home mum isn't so hard (though frugal!). Have to visit my Nana tomorrow, who dementia has receded enough for her to think that Kevin Rudd is the Prime Minister. Although he isn't, at least she can name him.
"I have the following, to go together or separately:
1: A set of digital-readout scales. Does body fat calculation too. Not currently working but probably really easy tto fix (I just can't be bothered at the moment :-P)
2: One large tapestry, in lap frame, with the wool needed to complete it. It's a sunset beach scene as far as I can make out. It's pretty old (I inherited it from my late mother in law) and I'm never going to finish it. Take it for a project, or take it for the lap frame!
3: One alarm clock radio. Working the last time it was used."
It reminds me of when I borrow a book from the library and the previous person's borrowing list is still tucked in; the small glimpse you get of someone's life, their likes, cultural influences etc.
Today I walked around the west end of the city; the walk made me realise how long it had been since I'd properly walked around that area. THere are probably still many side streets I've never been down. When I can be bothered, I can do a photo essay. Snapped the morocco themed retail outlet, which has ornate arabic tiling on the side; the rear of the mosque; a tapesty art piece made by ex Mt Gambier artist Ryan Sims adjacent to graffiti art; a side line that seemed to have carefully chosen contrasting paint work. Lu slept through it all; twas a hot day.
Still reading Bicycle Diaries, which again reminds you of the benefit of walking through city streets, and realised I've done a reasonable amount of that: Berlin, Brighton, Bristol, Hobart, Adelaide, Melbourne. Not so much Sydney-always felt as though I was sticking to main thoroughfares. Sydney doesn't have the residential/after hours occupancy feel of Melbourne, nor the pedestrian friendliness of smaller but busier cities like Brighton. I guess in Sydney it would be more of walking through Newtown or Surry Hills.
He had a good riff on beauty, inspired by Berlin: "Some people find beauty hard to define-often things we at first find ugly or strange grown on us and we disocver a depth and beauty that can be more profound than mere prettiness. " He had a friend who was an art dealer that had passed on a now-successful painter for being too beautiful-and not interesting enough for him.
But I think very great beauty, beauty that is immediate, can still be interesting. But if you drop your bar for defining it and then find yourself swamped by it (old castles, sunsets, magnificent coastal scenes), you build an immunity to it. Right now I am surrounded by great skies-sometimes they occur in the day time, late afternoon, sometimes at sunset. Yet I forget, I forget to be outside photographing them, or photographing them with the right tools, and I take it for granted. Living in rural NSW, I would be wistful for the city but ignore the beautiful sunsets.
Also reading/listening: Baby Beethoven (for my son); Vampire Weekend; the first biography by James Freud (when he's in denial, recounting his 70s and 80s era of being a drugged up musician); Satisfaction and This Life. Being a stay at home mum isn't so hard (though frugal!). Have to visit my Nana tomorrow, who dementia has receded enough for her to think that Kevin Rudd is the Prime Minister. Although he isn't, at least she can name him.
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