Georgiezine

There is a seminal memory I have of  Sydney.  On a day off, I'd gone exploring Darlinghurst.  By mid afternoon I was in a cafe in Paddington, drinking coffee whilst writing on a scrap piece of paper. Who was the lucky recipient of this scribble? I was COMPLETELY focussed and attentive to the act of writing. And a mum, at least 2 kids, wearing clothes that implied she did more with her day than just go to the gym, but keeping "school pick up hours" came over to my table and said that I reminded her of her younger self. Bless.  I was suprised to have this engaging mother tell me she recognised herself. That was the era, when I looked around open mouthed and dumb founded and couldn't imagine how I would ever be in a position to have a family/own a home. And here I am, 10 years on, with a child and a partner and a mortgage and for all I bellyache, I know I'm living it the dream. I got here in the end. I wasn't poor, but didn't understand the stage of life I wa...

Today my friend called me on skype with news too bad for her to tell me by email. Her voice was stretched and tense with suppressed tears. Bazz had died overnight in a car accident. My first thought was that it wasn't an accident. It was a professional instinct, based on what I know about male suicide and the difficulty of getting true numbers given that men often die on a single vehicle accidents. He drove headfirst into a tree-it was at night, he may have been drinking, he's had accidents before... but still, I have my suspicions. What was he like? A nice guy, but someone who struggled to support himself by doing what he was best at. He had talent-he'd studied visual arts, illustrated books, done enough paintings for exhibitions, could draw portraits and caricatures in 20 minutes. He'd done illustration work for television shows, tried to live and work in Sydney like his other friends, but it wasn't for him. He really wanted to paint full time and worked at lo...

It's been 8 years since I've been to this festival. hard to believe. Last time was just before I was due to leave town, go travelling, go changing and all that. Just as I'd settled in. My friend Brig said it will all still be here... but Jen disputes that. So this time round, I did have a moment of absolute antsiness towards the crowds. It was suggested that 30,000 attend, more than all the people that lived in my home town. All gathered together in the size of football grounds. The angst was partly at my own foolishness for abandoning the writers tent for a quest for coffee, that caused me to push past people to gain any momentum and almost lose all grasp of what the day was about: community, neighbourhood, helping less advantaged people. Listening to the music, enjoying the crowds, discovering something unexpected. As a visitor, there was the sense of envy for the people actively involved in creating it: I didn't just want to be a purveyor, I wanted...

So Mr Right always tells me it's okay to just keep going back to the same place and really get to know it, every square metre of it, like the back of your hand. And thus, I know the regions of Glebe, Newtown, Annandale, Leichardt, Petersham and Enmore best of all in Sydney, with knowledge also of Summer Hill, Strathfield, Concord, Croydon, Erksenville and Stanmore. On the weekend, I travelled around with Splatty from the airport to the Sham; from the Sham to Enmore along back streets like Salisbury Road. I listened to her stories of households in Newtown (the house where she and Mel didn't talk to each other; the office block that Osh turned into a home; the one bedroom flat that her parents and step siblings camped out in for a week). I tracked the shortest way back from King Street to the Sham in the taxi in the rain (best $10 I spent), and tried to picture in my head where the train lines were, where the main roads were and where the delightful local high streets where. ...

Am staying at a different friend's house this visit and getting to know a new neighbourhood. It's different to glebe, more residential but still with lots of the inner west things that I appreciate, like the neighbourhood yoga centre, laneways down to train stations, health centres, town hall, terraces, second hand shops, italian cafes and portuguese food places. Whilst waiting to meet a friend in Newtown I walked along the street replaying my impressions of a Saturday night birthday party I attended, and thinking about my parents. I realised (have realised for a while I guess) that I have kind of out stripped my parents in terms of courage in navigating modern life; and whilst I appreciate having my parents, I'm sad that I don't always feel as though there is much more wisdom I can gain from them. They can still give me wisdom at a one to one level about personal relationships; but not necessarily big picture wisdom about how to navigate the future. Whilst I don'...

Sadly the Glebe hotel is in its last days-Gretska has received a job promotion in San Francisco, and whilst this offers many fantastic possibilities for the future, I will miss all the Wigram Road shenanigans. Over the APEC weekend we savoured her company and the inner west vibe.... found the greatest cafe in the world (or at least in Sydney-gallery cafe in Annandale), browsed for reusable furniture and art pieces at Marrickville (got cool tiles) ...discovered a cool printing shop... stumbled across my favourite candle shop in Australia Street (still there eight years later!). I am slowly learning to garden... my neighbour found some terracotta pots for me and gave me some succulents... my tiles can be broken and used to cover the pots.

Just as I wrestle with my feelings about Sydney, so too do others, such as Dave and Dave's friends (who I am enamoured of, in a kind of admiring way). I've been put off by the superficials: long trips commuting when I am visiting on weekends. My inability to find any trace of my presence still there, five years after being a resident. How anonymous you can feel, how tiny. The glorious nature of the harbour, and the grief of getting caught up in the suburbs without a view. Being broke, trying to pursue hedonistic pleasures. How just as you are ready to hate it, something as simple as a swim in the sea baths turns the tide of infatuation. But I think I'm forgetting or ignoring the bigger story of a city, it's politics, how it is home to big business, corporate dreams, corruption and suspicion. Political tensions during the 1930s in Sydney are worth revisiting to make a comparison with current times. I've witnessed punch ups in a suburban bowling club and crimes agai...