December 31, 2009


4 photographs from this december.

1. If there were no clouds in the sky, the sun would stretch its hand through the dusty kitchen window and sprinkle rainbow coloured droplets all over the cabinets, the tables, the walls and floors and my skin, all at 8:30 in the morning, and never again throughout the day.

2. Hung on the Christmas trees. Christmas itself is a high voltage affair. I hope your Christmases were lovely this year.

3. My view of The Magnificents from my window at the Mandarin Oriental. As I write this the window behind me plays a silent movie of the city at night. It's 4:31 in the morning and there are cars along the road, dragging streaks of red as they ignore traffic lights and painted lines and orders to stop, slow down, watch ahead. There are scattered flecks of glitter all over the skyline too and they all twinkle like stars, but better. It won't get any more cliché than that but I guess that's what makes cliché, cliché. There is no other way to put it.

4. Star Wars characters in an accidental photograph. If you look carefully you can see Princess Leia and Han Solo and the rest of the names, I've forgotten. But they're all there.

December 18, 2009


My mother used to say I had circulatory problems. That's why, when I was younger, you could see my veins under my arms and legs. Spidery lines of red and blue and grey scribbled underneath the flesh. The live in house maids of my friends used to grab me by the wrists and question such a travesty. What is wrong with you? Is this normal? Is your mother making you drink enough water?

It was also why I get pins and needles far more frequently than most others. Morning assemblies in school were torture, a school girl on the floor in the agonising pain of much more than just pins or needles. Upon standing my legs would go numb, and then ticklish, and more often than not I'd have to lean on a friend amidst the scrambling, eager-to-get-to-maths-class crowd as they pushed past me, through me, into me, and wait for it to pass with my eyes closed tight.

Perhaps it is also why my heart rate is far higher than it should be. During a physical education lesson last year the fairly-young-but-far-wiser-but-not-really English teacher had us calculate our heart rate while we sat in the empty canteen in the afternoon. Mine was far higher than the rest of the class and I was accused of not calculating it properly, but she took it back when she did it herself. My dad did the same last week. His response was stop worrying, whatever it is. Perhaps I'm a worrier. Perhaps I have circulatory problems. Perhaps I'm just not as healthy as I should be.

My mother used to say I had circulatory problems. These days my mother just tells me to stop making excuses.

I still don't drink enough water though.

The over-processed view from my bedroom window.

December 01, 2009


I just got back from watching Tom perform in Habour Theatre's production of Oliver Twist. Good stuff. According to him Harbour Theatre is being kicked out of the Princess May Building and is moving across the street to another, so this is your last chance to watch any production in the musky-but-homey building erected (ha ha ha) in 1904. I read all the plaque information while I waited. Ticket prices are $13 for concession, please go. You get a free glass of orange juice but I forgot to claim mine. Click here for more information.

L and I wandered around Fremantle beforehand , searching for dinner and talking about Corpus and people and fish and water bottles and reasons why four months is actually a really long time. It was pleasant but I didn't bring my camera. I felt so naked. I've never been in Fremantle without a camera before.

I'm currently downloading every possible overplayed and mainstream dance song I can think of. They remind me of home. My 13 year old self is yelling profanities at me, shaking her head and asking how the fuck I could possibly have sunken to such a low and despicable level. Sorry. Some of these songs are really quite good.

I can't stop thinking about the lights.