What makes you sing?

if I practice gratitude each day – will i find what makes me sing?

Classes are boring.

Recess and lunch aren’t too good either, bad canteen food, sitting in the cold, and sometimes the wet talking to people you dont always like. And knowing you’re just waiting around to go back to class.

After school is great.

The bus ride home you have the realisation you have to do it all again tomorrow.

Standing out front of Albert Hall, having just arrived in London and desparately trying to see some sights in the short time we have there, I hear the sound of buskers. I look up and there’s a couple of guys sitting at the steps of the (gigantic) statue of Albert. They look like bums, a cardigan in front of them with a small collection of coins. I like music, I like live music and I like someone who will invite me over, I’d rather say yes than no. So when they called me over – I didn’t care if it was a leer or a joke – I wanted to hear more and see what they were up to. We amble up through the gate from the street toward them between joggers streaming past on the path through Hyde Park a slight glance down at the boys and their guitar and songs and sounds and voices.

We sat down and shared a song and a cigarette and we watched them swig and sing. Yep they could sing – they belted out a blues tune and then one of their own which made me think of brother Stuart, the transitoriness of life, the need to grab it and be grateful for the moments and adventures we have in it.  They then took us on a joyful walk through streets to a pub where we shared some stories and some beers.  These talented two had big sharing hearts, open ears to the world.  I call these kinda people shiny.  They are in a band called the Navajo Mud toys.

I wish we had the Metro in Perth!
Cute little tickets that zip you through turnstiles to take you anywhere in Paris. Maps in colour that tell you which line to take. LED signs to tell you when the next train is leaving. Steps up and down that weave around platforms. Trains wooshing into black tunnels. Only minutes to the place you want to go.

Many thanks to the Musician for this update on our reading circle meet which the Secretary did not attend. (suitably slapped!)

Book club met on 26 feb at the presidents house to discuss The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas .The book revolves around a group of contemporary suburban Melbournites,it provoked much discussion on the nature of loyalty to friends and family as well as the challenges of relationships and child rearing.Overall the book was well recieved and I would recommend it.Other subjects discussed on the night included the efficacy of genus Euphorbia onskin cancers ,coffee enemas and astronomy.

And details of next book club is at Lovelie’s place 26^th March  and the book is the Reader – by Stephen Daldry -  available everywhere – So don’t go to the film read the book Lovely has heard it is much better….

it makes us all nervous, this downturn.

imagine being 17 having just left school …. hoping for a gap year. wondering how life will turn out.

today an african lady called by my house to enquire about the 6 or so TV’s in my front yard – she wanted them to send to africa ..anyhoo that’s another story… the lady was passionate about helping kids in africa but more than anything she wants australian kids to realise all the opportunities that they have here.

Thanks to K for alerting me to my Freudian Slip Slop.  I accidently named our last book “the Magician” instead of it’s correct title, “The historian”.  Any analysis on this slip welcome.

Update on the book from my perspective … I am still reading it – about half way through and am enjoying the story. Not a great work of art perhaps but a good read! Looking forward to finishing it as I did a little tidy of my room last night and restacked my book bundle next to my bed waiting for me:

Shakespeare’s Wife, Germaine Greer (started this on holidays and am enjoying it even though it is non fiction!)

The Lay of the Land, Richard Ford

La Vie Parisienne, Janelle McCulloch (in preparation for journey to Paris!)

Our first reading circle meeting for 2009 was held at V’s housesitting home – a beautiful limestone house backing onto a park. I loved the paving and have thought of doing that at my place! Swirls and words made of stone set into the concrete path.

Most agreed ‘The Historian’ was a little tiresome – a little long and the plot too predictable. Having said that people enjoyed the ‘journey’ through Eastern Europe (though even the descriptions of place copped some criticism) The book was called “Mills and Boonish” and it was felt that a much of the detail could have been left out, the story itself was quite enjoyable but was too buried in too much detail.

The next book for our circle is ‘The Slap’ by Christos Tsiolkas. We will meet at the the Rockstar’s house – as usual on the last Thursday of the month.

In other news a committee meeting was held and new positions on the Executive were decided:

The Rockstar- President and Me – Secretary

Addendum:

Amusing stories arising from meeting:

An artist is offered employment as a teacher with a large institution. She is excited by the prospect as presented by the Head Teacher who describes the flexibility of the post, the interesting and challenging nature of the work as she will be working to inspire and help heal people with mental health issues. He is effusive about the position. She takes up the post only to find there is noone there to meet her on her first or second day. She gets on with her work nonetheless, planning her lessons etc- expecting the contract and details to arrive in the mail (she understands and expects delays from such a large and beauracratic institution) . Imagine her when she teaches her first class and “Head Teacher” is one of her students!

The Story of the Mournful Van

A beautiful story with all the elements, tragedy, hope and love.

Looking forward to the next installment of this one!

Thanks to the outgoing Executive for their work over the past year.

my dad died a happy man. he was diagnosed with indigestion we later found out, but it was his heart. he died of a heart attack while he was fixing the flashing on his workshop shed. his workshop was full of treasures, boxes and tins and bits and bobs – nothing with any order so it would seem, but watch him and mid project he’d need a screw or a bit or a bob and he’d pick up a tin, give it a rattle, move those giant fingers amongst the tiny objects and voila! just what he was looking for. the shed held his lapidiary equipment, his vibra laps, his sphere maker that he bought and the one he made (the one he used), his giant lathe where he turned blackboy bowls and frames for clocks made of sheoak. the shed where he escaped from the world.

he had his heart attack, climbed down from the roof and died in the sheoak chair us kids gave him. the ambulance came but he didn’t live. he died, as he should have, quickly, with no hanging around with disabilities for dad – that would have made his life hell. he died having met some of his grandkids, having been free to travel and adventure across remote western australia for months at a time for many years, he died before all his kids.

i miss him still.

turn and face the change! thats what bowie said, and i agree, lets do that with grace and good will.  but lets not do it with an arrogance of thinking we are the generation that has faced the most change. sure we do face an information overload, the world is changing but it did that in every era.

my dad saw the introduction of cars, drove down armadale hill on the albany highway when it was gravel. when he was a kid they’d get in the horse and cart and go to town to buy flour to make bread! my mum watched her brother go to war. ok is that enough? you know each generation faces incredible challenges.

its how we deal with those challenges that matters. do we stand on conference stages expounding the drama of needing to reconnect, create tribes (diatribes?), etc etc or do we just get on with it – introduce ourselves to our neighbours, grow some veggies in the backyard, find things we give a shit about and act on them.