Friday, February 27, 2009
On 702 drive this afternoon, that's the discussion topic. I've never had a grandfather, but I loved hearing a few of the people's stories.
The funniest was a boy who's grandfather taught him how to roll cigarettes... at age 6!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
I'm a total flicker - I flick betweenchannels on tv, and I flick between books. I usually have up to 15 books on the go at a time.
At the moment I'm reading a few poetry anthologies (Yeats, Eight American Poets), a book on writing poetry, The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James, The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch, a book written from the perspective of someone with an eating disorder and the bible. There's probably others, but right now they're all piled up next to my bed and I can't see them...
I wish I were a one book at a time person - because I think that's actually more satisfying, but like with my tv flicking, and blog viewing, I'm pretty erratic!
What about you?
Jo and I were both quite shocked by the head of some retail organisation saying how the recession had forced her to start using her kitchen again. As in - she is cooking. WOAH get out! Cooking? How quaint.
She also said people are now buying more staples - like rice and potatoes. RICE AND POTATOES! What new fangled carbohydrates
Is this true - have you been stashing potatoes away for the winter, and actually turning your burners on for the first time in years??
Turns out I've been a freak all along.
Monday, February 23, 2009
My problem is I have a voracious appetite for new things: ideas, images, words being the mainstayers. I seek them out aggressively - I read blog after blog, book after book, browse flickr till my eyes hurt.
It's my way of relaxing/escaping/being energised, but and at the end, I feel exhausted. Inspired - but exhausted.
Is this anyone else's experience?
It's probably a cliche to say it, but I think my(our?) generation really does have to navigate a sea of information, which churns and churns. It's wonderful, (and therefore addictive); makes you feel part of something bigger than yourself. BUT it's also actually really tiring.
I'm still trying to work out how to actually relax.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
It's a collaborative project between one of my closest friends, Jane, and myself. Jane recently moved to Broken Hill, and we thought a joint blog would help us stay in touch.
Then we started dreaming the possibilities, and thought it would be fun for others to read as well.
We want to focus on sharing what we know of where we live, and who we are with each other. So Jane will post photos of her new home, and stories about life there. I will do the same, plus some of my poems.
It's inspired by a wonderful project called "A Year of Mornings". We don't expect our blog to be anywhere near as beautiful, but hopefully it will be as personal and say just as much.
So, welcome to The Land Itself! Go check it out. Pictures coming shortly..
Thursday, February 19, 2009
You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet, still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
If you've always wanted some cute, handmade art, I recommend checking out Poppytalk Handmade.
It's a virtual online marketplace, where each month or so a different theme or set of artists' work is displayed. This month's theme is "affordable art".
It's not really that cheap (ie. i still can't afford most of the art), but it's relatively cheaper than buying most original artwork.
I look at what they're offering for inspiration, and because it's simply aesthetically pleasing.
lewas designs wall decal: dandelions
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
I'll payback that loan
and get a new one
Open a savings account
and make a withdrawal
Register my car
and back it into a pole
Dine at an establishment which serves
chilled soup in a shot glass
Buy reams of organic Australian yarn
manufactured in China
Upgrade my bike
so it looks retro
Buy a star
and look for it among the skyscrapers
Fly to Bali
and pose next to the bomb memorial
Build a toilet in Ghana
and put the picture on the fridge.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Given the chance, I'd fly away
like a bottle green balloon,
glistening in the sun
perfect and round.
Given the chance, I'd buy
the largest piece of chalk ever
and draw a single, continous line
around every metre of pavement in Petersham.
Given the chance, I'd always eat
mango, blueberry and kiwi fruit
on a bed of crunchy meringue
drizzled with cream
Given the chance, I'd enter
every competition on the Lifestyle Channel
and own every Nigella cookbook
and novelty apron available.
Given the chance, I'd borrow every
issue of Frankie, Notebook and The New Yorker
from Leichhardt Library
and never return them.
Given the chance, I'd wear
only stripes, horizontal,
and always French-style
with a neckerchief and beret.
Given the chance, I'd work out
what's stopping me.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
I typed in "books on writing" and "books on writing poetry" into google, and up Listmania came. What a great resource. Basically anyone can create a list of books under a particular category.
There are a number of lists created by people pertaining to writing, which is great news for me...
However, if you too have a recommendation please still comment!
However, I'd quite like to learn more about writing, both poetry and prose. Does anyone out there (Ali perhaps?) know of any good books to read about either subject. I think poetry's probably my main concern at the moment - I have no idea about technique and structure etc. I just write. But even if I end up abandoning orthodoxy, I'd like to know what I'm abandoning.
** I should add I started reading "The Poet Who Forgot", and that was really inspiring, but apart from what I learnt by osmosis, it didn't really give me technical advice.
I've also just been trying to read more poetry in general, and that's been good, but once again I'm just learning by osmosis.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
But I'm pretty excited!! More information to come... sorry for the secrecy
Sunday, February 8, 2009
In a surreal moment, I could see people speaking of the horror of the victorian fires, their faces shrivelled with pain, all tears and red cheeks, but I could not hear their voices.
At this moment, I came face to face with a dilemma which faces us all: to give our attention to the immediate, or the removed.
I soon looked away from the tv screen, and resumed my conversation with the people around me, focusing on farewelling my friend.
Back home now I realise that there is nothing much I can do for the people caught in the tragic situation down in Victoria, but it shocks me that I could move so easily between the two situations- one immediate, one removed.
I wish I could deeply feel the pain of the survivors and witnesses and do something about it.
I wish I thought "I'm hungry" less, and "they're starving" more.
I wish I thought "I'm tired" less, and "they don't have a bed" more.
I wish I thought "I can't afford that" less, and "they can't pay the rent" more.
It both scares, and saddens me how arresting the immediate can be. I don't want this to sound pious, but this whole situation reminds me why I trust in Jesus Christ, who for the joy set before him, endured the cross. Jesus is the only person who has ever been able to balance this tension perfectly, in the ultimate act of selflessness, by putting the long-term gain of others, before the immediate pain of the cross and alienation from himself/God. I am so thankful for that.
** Of course people make selfless decisions all the time, but I guess Jesus' whole life was an act of selflessness, from his entry to earth in the first place, his relinquishing of his "rights" first through giving so much of himself while on earth, and secondly through his death on our behalf.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
I wanted to tell you,
to hear about it all
but i couldn't.
Not when the cancer was still there
threatening to kill us all;
one false move
and we'd be gone.
When you died
the brain still flowed with blood,
still played tricks on our eyes
veins veiling lumps of death.
It needed me:
I was there
with my clamps, ready.
In the summer,
when the light faded
and I dreamt my body
was a riverstone,
passed over by a current, unstoppable -
Then I would send you away
with the children
and I would
eat little more than beans on toast,
and feed on the silence.