Lost and Found

Yesterday I saw something really unsettling. I walked out of a restaurant at lunch time, and there was a lady frantically running around, calling out somebody's name. At first I did not know what was happening. It was pretty crowded, and everybody had just stopped and seemed as confused as me. The lady seemed completely oblivious of the people around, they may as well have been trees. She just darted around them, searching frantically.

Then another lady came up, with a little girl holding a balloon, and the lady was saying "Here she is! Here she is!". The first woman stopped in her tracks whirled around, and reacted to seeing her lost daughter.

What struck me is that the look on her face was not joy, but a real pained anguish. Maybe it was the look of seeing exactly what you thought you had lost. It sent a shiver up my spine, and I couldn't help thinking about my little girl. It is not a very helpful thing to dwell too long on, but it is quite scary realising how much you have to lose.

Owwwww

I am always burning the roof of my mouth. It's usually when I am taste-testing while I cook. Last night it was a cube of molten potato that I downed in one gulp while I was making a stew for dinner. Now the roof of my mouth is raw, pink carnage. I stupidly had corn flakes this morning which felt like chewing on broken glass. Then I washed it all down with a cup of hot coffee, holding back the tears. I wish you could put a band-aid in your mouth. Ewww band-aid in your mouth!

Horn of the Apocalypse

On the bus into work this morning, the driver was playing one of his own cd's, rather than the normal radio fare. It happened to be an album of saxophones noodling over a casio drum machine (it may have even been one of those little toy ones) beat, complete with little pretend synthesized guitar sounds. It was a whole new level-- ubermuzak. Now, I don't want to be judgemental about somebody else's musical tastes, but come on, people. This has to stop. Luckily I was not driving the bus, as this music was giving me high blood pressure, the sweats, and inside I was just a blur of barely contained road rage.

Now the saxophone is largely to blame here, for it has, let's face it caused a lot of personal pain through the years. It's not to say that it is a bad instrument per-se, there are some instances of it being played beautifully (my favourite love song "It makes No Difference" by The Band features a sax solo), but it is hard to look past all the damage that it has done. I'm sure the actual technology that the evil Nazi scientists used and developed, was actually pretty brilliant-- but how can you see the good in something that has been responsible for so much damage and destruction? The same goes with the saxophone.

I feel sorry in a way, for Adolphe Sax, the inventor of this instrument of torture. It must be a heavy load to bear, to know that YOU, and YOU ALONE are responsible for Kenny G.

Storm Last Night

There was another great storm yesterday arvo, and we got a fair bit of hail at our place. E and I were watching the hail from the front window, and forgot that the kitchen windows were open, where little e was sitting in her high chair. We hurried out to the kitchen, to find a bit of a flood, and little e just sitting there, quite happily watching the show and enjoying the loud thunder. She's not easily scared, that kid.

God, man, God again

Had our second night of our new bible study last night. We are really enjoying it, it's a nice group of people. We are going through John. One thing came up last night that I had not thought of before-- the idea that since Jesus became a man, and spent that time on earth, that He will never be exactly the same as He was before that, in the infinite time that He existed in heaven with His Father. He now bears the scars of that, and has a new relationship to man, as He once was completely man Himself. What a cost; to never be quite the same again.

The Orchard

This is the house I lived in from when I was one, until I was about five. It was in a town called Anguragu, on Groote Eylandt, which is an island in the Gulf of Carpentaria, off the coast of the Northern Territory of Australia. Because I was pretty young, my memories are sort of vague and dreamy-- glimpses and snippets of different things. I remember that old cream-coloured Holden in the photo, I remember our old house, and all those banana trees at the side. The picture on the right is of the orchard that was across the road. I'm not sure if it was an orchard, but that is what I remember calling it. To me, that brings back really vivid and happy memories. I remember the orchard being the edge of my world-- beyond that was out of bounds, unknown, fascinating, scary. I remember running beneath the big fruit trees, the sun shining through the canopy here and there, running further and further. I never ran far enough to find out what was beyond it, and to step out of those safe boundaries of childhood. It sounds silly, but that is one of my happiest and most precious memories.

Imping

I read an interesting article in the Herald about Imping, an ancient practice where injured birds are helped to fly again, by grafting on feathers from dead birds. It sounds sort of strange, but it is really quite practical and straight forward. Wings from dead birds are kept in a freezer, and when an injured bird needs a replacement feather, there is one ready.

Basically, the old feather and replacement feather are cut in half, the shaft drilled out, and then a tooth pick or kebab skewer stuck in to the tube. Join the two bits together, whack on some Araldite (seriously), and viola, the bird is ready to fly again. How good's that? Here's some imping in action.

Fresh Starts, Happy Endings

I have felt kind of uninspired this week gone; sort of blue and unenthusiastic about things-- which is why I have not posted anything much. On top of that I have been sick (I always get sick just before the weekend, and basically get well just in time to go back to work... what sort of timing is that?), and that hasn't helped. But tonight hopefully is a bit of a new start; feeling a bit better, a bit more inspired, a bit brighter.

And come on, it's Oscars night, how can I be glum... the glitz! the glamour! (That was sarcasm). Incidentally, No Country For Old Men won best film and best director... imagine what they could have achieved had they only taken my advice and tacked on a Shawshank-style happy ending. The mind boggles.

Sonic Youth Last Night!

I saw Sonic Youth play their entire Daydream Nation (1987) album last night at the Enmore Theatre. It was amazing! That has been one of my most played albums since my brother taped it for me when I was in year 8 (17 years ago--yikes!), and to hear it from start to finish, live, was sooooooo great. They played so well, and for a bunch of 50 year olds, they are some pretty cool cats.

Maybe it is the lack of sleep talking, but that might be the best concert I have ever seen. The icing on the cake for me was that we had seats. Precious seats. None of this standing for two hours, catching glimpses of the band through some tall, sweaty guys armpit business.
kim gordon photo by thomas kjaer

Monday Morning Procrastination Drawing

Sonic Youth Tonight!!

Echidnas II

Want to know something awesome? A baby echidna is called a 'puggle'. How good is that? Puggle! The echidna, or 'spiny anteater' is a monotreme, which is a mammal that lays eggs (unlike marsupials which give birth to live young). The only other animal in the monotreme family is the platypus.

Twenty two days after mating, the female echidna lays a single, soft-shelled egg, which is deposited directly into her pouch. Here the puggle (puggle!) feeds from a milk-patch, as the echidna has no nipples. After about fifty days, the puggle starts to develop spikes, and so is moved into a burrow to continue its' development-- after all, who wants a prickly puggle in their pouch?

Echidnas

I like seeing animals at the zoo, but there's nothing like coming across an animal in the wild. It is so unexpected and exciting. When I lived in the Blue mountains I used to go wandering around in the bush near my house. One day I heard a rustling sound, and stopped in my tracks, thinking it might be a snake or something. I looked around carefully, trying to find where the sound was coming from, but I couldn't see anything.

After several minutes, I gave up, and was about to go on walking, when out of the bushes walked an echidna! I was so thrilled, having never seen one before in the wild. He was only small, about the size of a football. As soon as I made a move though, he came to an instant stop, curled up in a ball, and flared his spikes. It made me smile, and I stayed still and waited for ages for him to 'come back out'-- but when he eventually did, he would zip back into hiding as soon as he saw me. He was such a funny little guy, and I was so happy to have seen him.

Happy Endings

I saw No Country for Old Men last night. I had high expectations, as I had read the book a couple of years ago. It stayed true to the book, and I enjoyed it -- but was a little dissappointed-- I'll give it a 3.5/5. Being a Coen Brothers film I thought it would be a bit more stylised and unusual. And, you have to blame Cormac McCarthy for this, but I am so sick of movies with unhappy or unsatisfying endings. Call me uncultured, but give me an average movie with a decent ending over a classy movie with a dud ending any day.

You know what movie has the best, and most satisfying ending ever? The Shawshank Redemption. There may be a bit of cheese, and yet another Morgan Freeman voice over, but still, that is a top movie. It actually has about two or three satisfying endings, which is three more than most movies. Does it end with us wondering if Andy escapes prison? Nope. Does it end with him free, and us wondering what he does next? Nope, keeps going. Do we get to see Red get free as well? And the evil warden get his come-uppance? Yep.

And if all of this isn't enough, in the final scene, we even get to see what we as the viewer have been really wanting to see-- Andy and Red meeting up on the beautiful South American beach to work together on Andy's boat. How can you not tear up at that? You can't. And how can it not make you want to work on a boat? An impossibility. Satisfaction guaranteed.

Luka!

Luka Joel Wheeler born this morning at 10:45-- Congratulations Nath, Rosie and Lil!

Gordon Simon Hostel

I was thinking this morning about something that happened when I was a kid, that has always stuck with me. When I was about nine, my family was living and working at an Aboriginal Christian college in Darwin. One afternoon, I was bored and was wandering around the grounds of the college looking for something to do. I remember it was really hot, the sun was high in the sky, and all I could hear was the loud hum of cicadas.

Under an awning, I saw a man sitting in the shade, and he was whittling a bit of wood with a knife. Not being particularly stranger-danger conscious I went over and sat next to him, and watched him whittling. He started to tell me stories, and I sat there for what seemed like hours, enthralled. I don't remember much about him, other than the fact that he was Aboriginal, and that he was one of the most interesting person I had ever met.

Eventually he had to go, and I asked if he would be there the next day, but he said he was leaving; flying out from Darwin the following afternoon. I was very dissapointed, and so he said I could drop by the place where he was staying, just near the airport, and I could say goodbye then. I ran home, concentrating very hard on memorising the name of the place he would be: Gordon Simon Hostel. Gordon Simon Hostel. Gordon Simon Hostel.

I remember trying to convince my mum to let me go. She was in the kitchen ironing. She was (quite understandably) dubious, but it turned out that we were driving my grandmother to the airport the next day anyway. So the next afternoon came, and we all drove out to the airport; my parents, my siblings and my grandmother. We found the place, just near the airport. Gordon Simon Hostel.

My dad came in with me, and we asked the lady at the desk for the room number of the man. She said that he had left hours before, that I had missed him. We left, took grandma to the airport, and I remember standing, watching the planes taking off, feeling so dissapointed. In my mind, he was my best friend, and he had just left without telling me. What I find kind of interesting though, is the fact that I have no memory of his name or his face, or any of the stories that he told me, just the name of that place-- Gordon Simon Hostel.

Teardrops on the Dancefloor

Sorry, I have to vent. E and I were watching So You Think You Can Dance last night. Now, my standards are not that high, and I don't mind a bit of reality TV. But watching that, back to back with Biggest Loser... It's just too much for me. The amount of crying, the shear volume of tears was truly something to behold. What I have learnt is that dancers are a bunch of sooks. They don't get through to the next round, tears. They DO get through to the next round, tears. And the boring sob-stories: "I'm just feeling really emotional..my budgie passed away when I was three, and being up on stage today has brought those painful memories flooding back". Then cut to a shot of the judges, and they're all having a bit of a boo hoo as well.

Idol is pretty painful too, but at least when contestants didn't get through there weren't as many tears shed. I definitely prefer the ark up attitude ('I don't care what those stupid judges say, I am a star! I can sing, my mother told me so-- you'll be sorry when I am a household name')to the pleading 'I was born to dance...please...please.. PLEASE.. I'll change... I'll be whatever you want me to be, just give me a chance' thing. It's just too much at dinner time, it puts you right off your food.

Nightdriving

On Saturday night I drove down to Kiama for my friend's bucks party. I was quite nervous, as being a pretty new driver, it was easily the furthest I have ever driven on my own. It was a two hour drive down, getting there at sundown, then after staying at the party about two hours another two hour drive back home.

The drive home was quite surreal. I have not done a lot of night driving, and I was amazed at just how dark it is when you are away from the city-- just these long spells of not seeing any other cars, and just sort of being hypnotised by the light reflectors on the road. There was something enjoyable about it, but it also felt lonely, and I was definately glad that I never considered truckdriving as a profession.

A New Week

It has been a big week, which is why I haven't posted anything for a while-- I have just felt snowed under with different things that are going on, some good, some bad. I am not very good at dealing with more than one thing at a time, and so have been anxious; trying to keep all the different balls in the air.

I feel pretty run down, but am glad it's a new week, a fresh start. I read something this morning that cheered me up and gave me a different perspective on things--

'Learn to associate ideas worthy of God with all that happens in Nature- the sunrises and sunsets, the sun and the stars, the changing seasons, and your imagination will never be at the mercy of your impulses, but will always be at the service of God'.
--Oswald Chambers

Container and Candle (2008)

Container and Candle (2008)
31x 26cm, Oil on Canvas

I did this painting yesterday afternoon, while the girls were having a rest. E had put the two objects side by side on the edge of the bath, and I liked how the two things loooked together-- It reminded me of a Georgio Morandi painting. I am pleased with how the painting turned out, because I managed to not be too fussy, and labour over it too much.

little e

This morning little e has been saying something that sounds a lot like "daddy". It feels so great to hear her say that, and it sounds particularly cute in her husky little morning voice. We had a bit of a rough night though, she kept waking and was inconsolable. We tried everything; feeding, rocking, singing...

Eventually, at about 2:30am I found the answer, and bored her to sleep. I sat on the floor next to the cot, and told her an epic tale, in great detail. It involved a boy who wanted to make a stew. He set off in to the forest, and each creature that he met supplied him with more and more ingredients for his stew. A rabbit gave him some potatoes, a bear some onions, and a bluebird, some parsely. In the end, old mate invited all the animals to a dinner party and they all ate the stew.

Storm

It was great to get that big storm yesterday afternoon, and for the rain to cool things down a bit. I was getting the clothes off the line as it was just starting-- I love being outside just before a big storm, when everything is dark, and there is a heavy feeling in the air; anticipation, humidity, and a weird quietness. It feels like something giant is building up and getting ready to burst.

What it reminded me of was that bit in The Wizard of Oz, when Dorothy has just left the magicians place, and the big storm is just rolling over-- I love that bit.

Woe to those

I have had a sore throat for the past week, which has been a really good excuse for not getting up early to go jogging. What can I do? I want to excersise, but hey, I don't want to worsten the situation, do I. And if I needed any further reasoning, I have been reading Isaiah, and this morning came across this --

"Woe to those who rise early in the morning to run.." Isaiah 5:11

Can't argue with that.

Green Tree Frog

The Australian Green Tree Frog grows to about 10cm, and lives for around sixteen years. It has discs in its toes, that allow it to climb vertically up glass. While the frog does have lungs, it absorbs oxygen through its skin.
They are docile creatures, eating mostly insects and spiders, but they sometimes also eat other frogs, and even small mammals (docile, in a canabalistic sort of way).

Frogs

When I was a kid I loved frogs, particularly big green tree frogs. I used to catch them and carry them around with me. I was also a big thumbsucker, and I used to have one thumb in my mouth, and have a frog in the other hand, and sometimes swapped hands... At the time I didn't see a problem with this, though other people did. As it turns out, my lack of hygienic concern actually has well thought out reasoning behind it; for to quote Wikipedia,

'The skin secretions of the frog have antibacterial and antiviral properties that may prove useful in pharmaceutical preparations.'

Who knew? Me.