Back to normal life. What resembles one, anyhow.

The Olympics finally over, normal television viewing can now begin again. A Sony Trinitron Television set (kindly donated to us by Maude's sisters) was an excellent virtual window to the Sydney Games. This was before the aerial was blown to the shit house. Two weeks ago there was a rip-roaring storm that battered most of the bay side 'burbs of Melbourne. The Moreton Bay Fig out the front wasn't all that worried, the giant rain forest ferns turned into organic helicopters and almost looked like they were going to take off for a search and rescue mission. 
 
 

Now the picture quality is 5 channels of snow. I dare not climb two stories on a ladder and clamber over lichen-covered 70 year old terracotta tiles-it would be instant death for the ungainly. In the old days, you would have someone up there screaming out,

"How's seven now ?"

"What about two ?"

"What ! .....Still looks like shit ?"

Mr Aerial or a local kid, daredevil, psycho/rock climber will have to brave the task at hand.

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Last Sunday, myself, Maude and a young  female visitor from Queensland, made our way in the driving rain and hail to Ormond College. One of my oldest and dearest friends had finally launched her much anticipated CD "Pianoworks" . Based on three different locations, Ormond College, St Kilda and the N.S.W artist's retreat at Bundanon. Out of the fourteen tracks, "Three St Kilda Sketches (1994 - 1997)" were the works I most identified with. Knowing Linda and some of her earlier musical rock influences, namely the David Bowie "Low" album, I sensed another location. 

Hansa by the Wall.
 

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On a personal note.

I seem to be at a crossroad. Career- wise, I have an obligation to keep going to school, keep learning the I.T thing. This is probably due to one obligation only, keeping the rafters over my head. I really would like to write more and photograph more, though juggling time is a skilled circus act. An ongoing restructure and a deep mistrust of management is making me slightly paranoid. Not only do I have this path of uncertainty to walk, but a more worrisome aspect is starting to float to the oily surface. A clash of personalities between my anti-authoritarian self and a repressed private schoolboy with an ideology bordering on Thatcherism and Scouts Australia. My confidence was momentarily stymied, when the one who supposedly calls the shots used a botchy form of psychological warfare. Under those circumstances I could barely keep my boiling blood at an even simmer. I have a right to a normal and calm environment in which to work, not one fraught with plan hatching and reprisals. 
 

Four weeks of holidays will hopefully give me some time to sort out where I am going. I will come back to a new manager, a different work process and hopefully boys club free zone.

Postcards from Brighton

Coming Soon !