More and more, I have the feeling that we are getting nowhere, slowly. As the talk goes on, we are getting nowhere, and that is a pleasure. It is not irritating to be where one is. It is only irritating to think one would like to be somewhere else… (more…)
About 2pm I went in search of Neville. I’d met Neville at the pub on Friday night during Jag the Joker, and we’d talked gardens and worms. He told me that he had discovered a big cache of worms in his garden, and I was welcome to come and get some.
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I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I think I’m getting “screen fatigue.” Does such a thing exist? Who would want to be a graphic designer / web designer / data entry clerk ? Every day facing the same flickering frame, this universal tool which enables everything we do and then traps us into a heavily dependent relationship. I’m with them Plymouth Brethren down in Cunderdin: no computers, no phones, no faxes. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll give up. Return to a simpler life. But I’ve just gotta send off this one email first…
Of course, writing this blog each day is not a strain at all. In fact, it’s a pleasure to sit and think about yesterday. To give yesterday one last chance to live again before it disappears forever.
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I jokingly wrote to my friend Tony in Sydney about how I was going to find it hard to leave this place. I told him that maybe I would buy a farm and stay on. Tony wrote back: “Funny but I find it hard to imagine you running a farm or even living in all that thundering emptiness…”
I like the idea of “thundering emptiness.” Emptiness so vast it makes the cavity in my skull resonate deafeningly. A kind of sublime vacuum.
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Feels like I can hardly keep up. My own computer has packed it in, so I am over in the gallery office doing this typing. It’s 10.36am, and Kellerberrin is “action-stations” this morning. People bustling everywhere and cars all over the place. Pat said it’s because of the speedway this arvo, and also there is the shire election happening. She gave me a huge bag of just-spun wool, and another smaller one from Di, for our Pipe-Vest project. It’s nice stuff – natural colours, wound in loose bundles (do you call them “hocks?”) .
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Yesterday I hung out with a character called Peter McCabe. He was standing in the doorway of the craft barn, watching the world go by.
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Well it was sunny and warm yesterday. The wonderful “opening rains” seemed to have run their course. Unfortunately I spent most of the day indoors in front of one of these infernal machines trying to sort out logistical issues with the Expanded Cinema event I’m planning for the Kellerberrin Cinema. Seems like there is no-one who has a 16mm-350watt-xenon-arc-lamp-projector in Western Australia. Well, I reckon there is one out there, and we will find it! (Incidentally, if you are reading this, maybe you googled “16mm-350watt-xenon-arc-lamp-projector” to see what price you could get for yours, as you want to sell it in the “quokka,” look no further, you have found a buyer right here).
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Joining up to a bootcamp in the city. I’m late with my enrolment and that’s ok. But i want to go do a different “campus” so I trek across through a park. It’s getting on in the morning and I’m worried I’m going to miss out. I bump into Travis at a train station. He’s older and chubbier than he was at school. He’s got lines on his face. I congratulate him on his forthcoming appearance in the play “my right arm” but unfortunately I’m not going to be able to make it. I rush off, but Pip’s power hose in the lane wakes me up before I reach my destination…
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Men on the roof this morning. 8am. I checked the time as it seemed odd. At first I thought it must be Felena, but I’m sure she would have told us in advance. Somehow, in my semi-conscious state (perhaps 6 on the “Glasgow Coma Scale”?) I associated their rooftop stomping as having something to do with the leaks we’ve sprung since yesterday’s deluge. The gallery also had a big leak. The cinema has a major water damage issue on the way. And my craft barn bedroom flooded when water came right in from the laneway and under the door.
Two men walking down the laneway. They are talking about having their picture taken. One of them exclaims “But I don’t want anyone to know my photo.”
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Jo says we are silly to drink spring water. She reckons it’s just a marketing ploy, and that you shouldn’t believe that bottled water is any different from the stuff that comes out of the tap. She drinks tap water exclusively.
Greg says that when he first moved to the area, they made him sign a form declaring that if he drinks the tap water, he won’t sue when he gets sick from it. He reckons that the water from the tap is not fit for human consumption. (Greg prefers Pepsi).
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