Georgiezine

 All week I did things for me. Visited the art museum, got a student to review my survey, planned an art session for my co-design workshop, wrote it all up and then, yesterday, 4:30, I looked at my phone and there was a message from my friend, letting me know her partner had died by suicide. Had to tell my son who is friends with their eldest, and prepare telling my youngest who is in a class with their youngest. Thought a lot about what I could say or do differently, and what I missed, and what difference I could have made, and shared it with those I was in conversation with, and trusted. Interestingly Michael shared the most, more about him and his philosophy of life, in fact more about himself than he's shared in the time I've known him. He too had overwhelming grief, and appears to have sorted it out through travellling and visspassana, (doubt I've spelt that correctly) and also lost a 90s era friend, in recent times, first socially, then forever. As he shared, it does ...

 It can be easy to miss it, but Sunday morning we lazed together in the western sunshine; we listened to our son and requested a timetable at school that suits him socially, our youngest still enjoys football, I read books I liked, and managed to get to the pool twice this week, still well away from the physical fitness I'd prefer but building a regularity which is the first step. 

 Tomorrow, for work, I have to facilitate a group doing arty stuff expressing lived experience, and oh my, I don't feel prepared. I should be packing my car now, but I am not, I'm going to 'wing it', which is a bad bad philosophy, that relies on personal charm, and people's willingness to free range.  Umm, swapped notes with work Jess about books, campus novels, performative male in the wilderness, the latter prompted by the sighting of a guy, 40plus, well dressed: khaki duster jacket, Tortoise tshirt, Japanese skater jeans, shoes, clear plastic spectacles, cap clad, on phone, waiting for work colleague, younger, boob tube, bomber jacket, skater jeans. Such a cool platonic couple. Sadly, phone battery flat.  Earlier I'd been up the hill at Flinders Uni, working out the whole Sturt campus, medical campus, Bedford campus, bridge, wilderness, lake, community centre, market garden, permaculture garden, the library, the art museum, which is in exactly the same place ...

Headed up to Flinders University in person, belated effort, I remember cool celebrations in the past, honouring drama centre and so on.  The lay out is brutalist but also resourced; I spent time wandering around social sciences north and south, past the lake, the student hub, walked across the bridge that joins bedford campus with sturt campus, looked down into the forest and felt inspired.  After I finished with the library, and the art museum ("un-disciplined") I decided to drive to the city via Colonel Light Gardens, that planned community, and Hutt Street in case there was anything new. I sat outside a fancy cafe, where all the cool kids were, including a guy whose outfit I wanted to photograph but camera batterly was flat. I'll describe. Clear perspex spectacles, cap, khaki coloured dust jacket, a black tshirt with white writing that seemed to be for Tortoise the band, dark denim jeans that looked Japanese skater style, pull on shoes, like the Vans that Sean Penn wor...

 Aeons ago, I was hanging out with my friend Megan, who was taking AGES to buy cigarettes in the 7 day supermarket and I walked in and loudly declared 'hurry up' like I was the grumpy blackboard in Mr Squiggle, before my jaw dropped, and I understood her delay-Mr Adonis was on the checkout counter, and he wouldn't have been a day over 17. Unbelievable. At the time the age gap was definitely 20 years, more for Megan, and we walked away guiltily laughing.  Age gaps still have taboo, I used to get hung up about a 2-3 year age gap, which seems ridiculous now, but it remains as a double standard of ageism. Men as old as the recently departed Sam Neill (RIP, such a babe), can match up with someone younger than their adult children, because they're a financially solvent silver fox, but if a women matches up with a much younger male, eyebrows are raised.  There is a not great film I watched recently, featuring Michelle Pfeiffer and Paul Rudd, both did their best with uneven mat...

Had some more fridge free action, last week, when I stayed in accommodation with highly curated interior cabinetry, followed by a charming and very 'me' interior, think wood, textiles, mood lights, books, rugs, deep sleep. M came to visit, on my request, gee he's nice, but he does a friendly patter, sometimes about keeping it light, sometimes masking something he doesn't want to talk about, sometimes signalling time up. He's married to his job, which is what brain boxes without a girlfriend do, maybe that's why he keeps telling me to spend more time at home, but home isn't enough of a reflection of my inner life, so I'm overcompensating, and I don't need to doubt my abilities, professionally, but be more selective. He talked about some guide to being a political advisor, amusingly it's only 2 pages long, but the hot tip is speak to people, and know your portfolio, I said yes, it's always a relief when someone has that humility. M gave me tips...

I'm on my laptop at the desk of one of the siblings of the bass player in my son's teenage rock pop band. There are kids in the kitchen, and the lounge is set up with a variety of toys, board games, nurturing routines, one of the siblings (I can't tell them apart) has written a letter in pencil handwriting, all code. The Mum has baked brownies, iced them, there's snacks aplenty.  The older kids started band practice after one of the younger siblings finished rehearsing with a five piece, boys and girls in the band, a school performance in two weeks, very nervous, but sound great to me. A musical household and a family home, nice.  I'd been so exhausted, too exhausted, and checked into an Airbnb for 2 night's sleep by the beachside in an art deco apartment, followed by 3 nights this week in a cool one-bedroom artists retreat, both different but welcome experiences, each with a bath. The latter had an outdoor bath, and I think that's my future goal, if I can t...

Today I cried at work, fortunately not because of work. I ended up approaching my ED, who has a reputation for being 'human' and asked how he kept on keeping on when he did his PhD, but the answer was 'before kids', so not so helpful, but I'm glad I asked. I told him that I've learnt the importance of crying and feeling the pain, in order to surf through it, though I probably didn't use that language. At least the tears came out freely enough. Then I wrote a sensible email to my lecturer, about how to catch up.  Sometimes I look at my life and despair at my inability to make time for myself, even when I have the opportunity, I fill it with things that exhaust me or are fleeting, or I pay for later.  Generations in Jazz was okay, a lot of effort on son's behalf, at the expense of his goals, now he's behind with school work, hasn't prepared for his cello audition, said I'm imposing my goals on his life and wants me to withdraw him from the gift...

Invited myself over to visit a friend whose partner is an architect, they live in a heritage cottage with a laneway rear extension, grand total of 120sqm. I liked it a lot (without knowing if that's a lot or a little); reminded me of A Tiny Apartment (my fave blog, whose partner is an architect too!), as it had upstairs loft study space, downstairs kitchen/dining/living space, corridor of art/bookshelves and smaller bedrooms. A kid came home from school, presumably on his bicycle or dropped off by neighbour, politely nodded and ignored me as they grabbed food from the pantry.   We chit chatted, sipping from mugs I admired, it was like being in South Hobart, complete with a friendly neighbourhood lady who dropped off spare football boots. I asked partner if being an architect is being good at problem solving and he said yeah, defining the problem, that matters, and my friend and I expanded: spatial problem solving, small spaces, knowing complicated like physics and angles, warm...

 Went to see Split Enz last night, from arriving at the train station en route, my heart sank about how drab and badly dressed matured aged audiences are, in Adelaide, I do remember getting shirty with my Mum for pointing this out, but it's true. Everyone dresses like they've left prison or they were forced to shop for their wardrobe at Millers or Lowes (and maybe they were). By the time we arrived at Entertainment Centre, there were a few glimmers of hope, a guy who had an actual Split Enz t-shirt, looked like a New Zealander. Then, as the band came on, there was relief. Paul and Tim had white hair big and boofy, sharp plaid suits, Neil in Blue and Tim in orange, they shared a retrospective of all the amazing outfits that Noel had made for them over the years, and I was in heaven. Noel is a talent, I believe he did the sets for Play School and/or Rockwiz, and he's good at sewing, screen printing, patchworking but also that higher level of conceptual design. Makes Jenny Kee...

  I've been reading Real Estate by Deborah Levy, the sequel to Cost of Living (or is it Cost of Loving?). Remains a great title in my mind, either way. Meanwhile I've requested and borrowed out everything she's written, and it's a lot. I recommended her to my friend and new book club of two and she's reading her too, I'm impressed.  Last night I dropped off the eldest at orchestra practice and parked behind Schultz in a 15 minute zone, so I could collect a book reservation-Hilary McPhee, Other People's Lives, which includes her setting up McPhee Gribble and publishing Monkey Grip. The youngest was so delighted by the library, that we returned to the car and grabbed his book so he, too, could enjoy the delight of a reading room. I deliberately tested spatial awareness by setting a small challenge of finding the library a second time, without me, and they did, walking past the observatory building and the small child care, which had a nice vibe, and where iden...

Tonight I signalled I wanted to catch the 5:00 train, did exit things to enable this, except left my bike helmet at the desk, by the time I made it to the train platform on my ebike, all gone.  I waited for the next train, with my study partner, all good as I caught the train home via the inner west, which terminates at now gentrified beach destination, OMG, another level of fashion forwardness. Think men in linen jackets, paisley shirts, trousers, lace up oxfords, carry bags, silver fox (male, female) with wrap around wool wear, confidence, knowing/connecting looks, cool handbags by a bespoke bag maker.  My pick of the night was a couple, she/they short hair, tweed wool coat, wrap around scarf, leaning into/resting against him/they in pink shirt, doom scrolling phones. She/they wore pants, lace up oxfords and as she/they exited, I noted: nose ring, lip ring, that latest craze of skinny pendant descending into cleavage territory, semi unbuttoned linen shirt, thin not wiry, in ...

From a fashion first aid perspective, I need intervention, wore tracky pants, in public, to avoid unflattering effect of jeans. Lifestyle has caught up and have to do something, something, something.  Umm, what else. I had an amusing experience when I realised a frenemy-someone I get along with, from an intellectual and cultural and even ethical perspective-suffers not only from smugness, but social insecurity. I had no idea they need to be cool, given they're well educated and attained tenure in a competitive field, by pursuing something that yielded external validation of a kind they take for granted, which funds renovations and holidays. Sounds enough to me, but they also want to be cool.  I suspect the source of their difficulties is they've been with the same partner since a teenager, lack of comparison in the bedroom (even a sample of two is useful), kissing action hasn't diversified since they were a geek. That's the real tragedy. Funny how much passion is involv...

 Work is work and men are men, but maybe I should acknowledge my gender a bit more. Tonight, as I approached, on foot, bike cage in the basement, an emerging cyclist noticed my approach and left the electronic cage open. She was wearing what I will politely call lady commuter clothes, and I recognised her as a school classmate (in the day), above me by two years, cycles every day.  I read annual report of a women's service and liked the leadership, culturally (and class) diverse.  My manager was made permanent, and when I outlined milestones and due dates, they said, redundantly, "I'm not a micro manager"; I said, "I can't leave you keeping this information in your head" and we both smiled at similar understandings.  My friend took me out for a birthday dinner, for my significant birthday and as she was telling horrified anecdote about an architect who DJs, is a sexual healer and enjoys life modelling in full frontal mode, we were served a banana fritter...

Every year I have a quest to honour, in the moment, Robert Smith's birthday. I was a day late, but thanks to Greenwich time, I was cool?  Sadly, James Valentine has passed, and I realise he was the blueprint for cool guys with glasses, music nerds, and all of that. Thank you for being you.  It's 9 years since John Clarke passed on, whilst bush walking. I'm getting a theme here-domestic life.  Today, as the day or day before that or week before that, I went to the pool to swim 50m laps and it was good, though not yet a community formed. I'll keep trying. I feel so great after swimming, even if I've mostly kick boarded, each time I set myself a challenge to keep going. Then I picked up the youngest, and took him for a neighbourhood bike ride, on the new walkways or bike lanes, or something funded by national money. To cycle with him is to understand him, it's precious time. He'd told me in the morning, as we cycled to OSCH, that he has two friendship groups, a...

I'm here in April, but I'll go back 6 weeks. Work wrapped up, I had leave, youngest settled into his new school, learn to ride a bike, days spent cycling to and from school, lying under the trees, feeling the air.  Studies resumed and this year's cohort are my people. One has a sister who learnt to roller skate to be lead in Xanadu, he's watched the film and loves it. Another moved around with her family, including Tassie and NT. My placement partner came to my house, we did Picasso portraits, when we caught the train, persuaded a classmate on back of my e bike, and cycled around the campus like BMX bandits.  Tennis lessons wrapped up, youngest did get better, playing soccer and football next term and selected for specialist art after school, yay, free babysitting, more art, win win. Eldest still playing drums in his three-piece pop band and recruited to play keyboards by a drummer at band camp. His first orchestra performance was the best, thanks to his conductor who a...

For some time, I've been having dreams about baby teeth. As has another friend.  Allan has a dream analysis book, which as a precis, states it's a sign of outgrowing old things. I don't recall having the Baby teeth dream until very recently, but it reminded me time moves on.  Prompts=Generations in Jazz, recent holiday in Hobart, realising you have a thread to something that isn't needed anymore. Work has been the biggest reminder of this, inadvertently, as current role has brought me into contact with people from a decade ago, whilst a new guy I work with is the brother of a guy I long ago dated, who he talks about every day, and I can't recall who I was at the time.  It's been interesting reflecting on the blank canvas provided when I moved away to other places, not only 'anonymity' but learning how to drive in heavy traffic.  Last week in Hobart, I looked around to try and understand. On the Friday, I'd met up with S, en route to UTAS, we met at H...

Hobart was so wonderful.  A rough itinerary-Resilience Fair, dinner at neighbours; early morning beach swim Open House Hobart and homemade pizza; lost day; Rivulet walks and Hamlet coffee; visit to Squiz and evening lecture on co-housing; visit to a childhood friend, watching Chris play Real Tennis, then Sharon Van Etten gig; coffee at Soho after distributing Vote NO to the Stadium posters, catch up with Sab, ramen at Ranita's, wine at Lucinda bar and flight home where uncle and aunt were in town.  Highlights: Sharon Van Etten crouching down to sing 17 in front of me. Squiz's 8 yo niece asking to do a portrait of me (so great).  The free clothes at Resilience Fair.  Walking in misty mountain air and feeling like I was in a Midnight Juggernauts video clip People initiating conversations-to ask for directions, to tell me where the platypus was, to get help.  My friends-old ones I've known for decades and new ones, that remembered meeting me.  Ceramic love, ho...

  Finding 'little libraries' was my most fun thing in Sydney, I did enjoy it.  So, I survived work Halloween dressed in a black Gorman jumpsuit or as a snarky twenty something might put it, "oversize playsuit", nice person lent me a witches' hat for trick or treating- we limited ourselves to the block, child 'educating' about removing cotton wool to protect baby birds out of the nest, a better way to educate than be judgey (though actually it makes me mad to think about).  When I say 'survived', work party was enjoyable, but Halloween has certainly been embedded as another northern hemisphere ritual that does not make sense, weather wise. My first Halloween party was as a teen invited to the big kids goth party, even though I found them scary even after Giles told me scary ones were groupie. He'd carved pumpkins lit with fairy lights, we sat in a circle and chatted about the blue rinse set being our only allies (Exeter had asked Jeremy to dye h...

G was leaning towards swimming pool; I lean towards piano cake, able to picture myself once making miniature props for my dolls and general 'imaginary inner world'.  Today I spent doing something I love, editing things that other people wrote, so much better than editing something I wrote, and I was in the zone, lulled by the spring sun outside, which made me think of that Dragon song by Paul Hewson. Another school friend sent me an amusing photo of her naturopath's recommendations, which I suspect was intended without a trace of iron(y) (naturopath is onto it!).  Part of what I was editing was, in fact, policy about health. I find that everyone who *thinks* they are beyond the biomedical model, waxes lyrical about 'holistic health' or 'social determinants' when you probe, they're replacing one model with another that is also unsustainable or exclusionary, but wellbeing at a sustainable community/health level would be ability to NOT devote 10 hours a day...