As part of my ongoing effort to document the discarded items I often find in the laneway behind my apartment block, I present to you two pairs of discarded shoes. They’ve been here for a couple of days. I suppose someone will eventually take them away.
To be honest, I don’t really understand why anyone would leave two pairs of shoes like this in a laneway. A couple of possible explanations, though spring to mind. They belong to a couple of girls who were dancing while drunk: you know how it is, they get out on the dance floor, and they don’t believe they can dance properly unless they take their shoes off. Another possible explanation might be…
Discarded Shoes
…well actually I can’t think of anything.
Who would possibly leave their old shoes in a laneway?
“You can sit wherever you like, so long as you don’t sit in the front row, and so long as there are two empty seats either side of you”, I was told in response to my question about where I could sit tonight. “Perfect”, I said, “That’s exactly how I like it when I’m attending live theatre”.
Yes, tonight I’ve been to see an actual play in an actual theatre, with an actual cast, and an actual audience.
Some of the cast of Neighbourhood Watch
“What play are you seeing, and what’s it about?”, a friend asked me on Messenger tonight. “I have no idea”, I told him, adding that I’d received an email for a live play, and bought the ticket on solely that basis.
The play at Sydney’s New Theatre in Newtown was called “Neighbourhood Watch”.
Without giving away too much, the play tells the story of two women, neighbours who develop a good friendship.
One is a young woman on the rebound of a relationship, and sharing a house with another young man, with the possibility of a relationship developing betwen the two of them.
The other is an older woman, a Hungarian refugee who has lived in Australia for many years, and who moved into the neighbourhood after the death of her husband.
The play goes back and foward between the contemporary situation, and her younger life in Hungary, with parralels between the stories of the two women.
Though it wasn’t a “life-changing” story or play for me, I enjoyed it very much.
As I watched the play, I kept thinking “I can see this being made into a film”. On returning home, I checked the Wikipedia entry for the playwright, and this confirmed she is currently adapting it for the screen.
Neighbourhood Watch at Sydney’s New Theatre
And it was GREAT to see some live theatre for the first time in several months.
There were several reminders about social distancing from the theatre staff, and, as I watched the play, thoughts about social distance between the actors kept going through the back of my mind.
“I’m sorry, there are too many people in the foyer”, we were told at intermission. “Some of you will need to go outside or back into the theatre”.
Messina, Crown Street, Surry HillsFurther to my previous post about Sydney’s ice-cream phase/fad/obsession, I have one thing to say: “it’s winter, it’s Monday night, it’s 10.30pm, it’s time for these people to be home in bed, not queuing for ice-cream”. :)
Crown Street, Surry Hills By night it’s lots of glamorous restaurants, while by day it’s often a lot of people with substance abuse problems. This morning, for example, there were two blokes at the bus-stop who had been drinking for days on end, it seems. I’ve actually seen these two blokes before and I think they look like they might be brothers. Brothers who obviously have had too much to drink over a long period of time. Every time I see them it’s early or mid-morning and they each have a bottle in hand, and they’re always shouting and screaming at each other.
Still, I love Surry Hills even if it’s sometimes a little confronting. And it’s kinda nice just hangin’ out in my ‘hood. doing nothing in particular, except relaxing and getting to do the things I really like doing. For example, instead of gulping down a coffee on the way to work and reading the newspapers online, I had lovely a mid-morning coffee at Cossie’s Cafe.
While I normally read the papers “for a living”, mostly skimming them to be honest, it was such a pleasure to actually read all the stories that I found personally genuinely interesting. And I love the little witty one liners you find in the opinion and letters columns such as this one in today’s SMH by Michael Deeth of Como West…
Mr Rudd’s intinerary for his last day in China is as follows: a meeting with President Hu Jintao and then a tour of a power station. The remains of the day will be at his disposal. In summary – Hu’s on first, watts on second and I don’t know is on third.
Right now, it’s lunchtime and it’s a bit wet and miserable. Hardly the best weather for my holiday-ette, is it? Still, the goal for this week was a bit of “me” time, so the weather doesn’t matter so much, does it? I half-thought about going to the beach for a walk this morning, but it was cold and miserable when I woke at about five o’clock. So I bashed out a few work-related emails, feeling happy and confident that I had done all that I needed to do for a guilt-free week away from the salt-mine.
I’ve also had a reasonably productive couple of hours at the State Library this morning doing some family history research. I’m heading off to North Sydney shortly for lunch with a friend. Don’t you just love holidays?
On most nights before I go to bed, I look at my calendar for the following day. Often I’ll add a few items to the “to do” list, and maybe tenatively organise a brief meeting or two to finalise or start something.
I’m not one for blocking out hour-long meetings and discussions. My view is that if you do your homework, and have a clear agenda, most meetings can be brief, and are sometimes just a formality. Nonetheless, I usually have one or two meetings – usually half an hour, sometimes an hour – scheduled in for most days.
I didn’t do that preparation last night, as I went to bed within minutes of arriving home from the pub.
So you can imagine my surprise as I checked my calendar on the way to work this morning when I discovered I had absolutely no meetings booked in at all. There were a few items on the “to do” list, but no actual meetings.
In contrast to the last few months which have been extraordinarily busy, it was nice to have a clean run. I managed to knock off everything on the “to do” list for today, and even managed to get ahead.
I reckon it’s two or three years since I last visited Nimbin, not far from my home town of Lismore in Northern NSW. It goes without saying Nimbin has a “reputation” which goes back to the Aquarius Festival in 1973. I remember vividly when “the hippies” arrived in town, as we lived not far from the now-closed Lismore Railway Station.
Since then I’ve visited Nimbin on many occasions, as friends have lived there on and off over the years. The last time I was there was to visit an old school-mate and his partner. And so it was once again tonight. In all, four of us who went to school together, along with Paul’s parter.
Normally, Lismore is the most central point for a pre-Christmas catchup, as most of now live far and wide around the district. But this year, the tradition changed.
The drive to Nimbin was a rather stormy one, with late afternoon mist and rain. As we drove around my friend, Sue, who lived in Nimbin for many years with her parents peered from left to right, as we looked at what was happening around the town. There was little change from her youth, except there are now many more people living in the hills around town.
“There’s a woman up the road who lives half the year in France and half the year here”, we were told over dinner tonight.
It was a night of great company, great food, farm life, rolling hills, chickens, goats cheese, and goat’s milk ice-cream. Very pleasant, indeed.
Chatting with the chooksThe goatsIce-cream made with goat’s milkChristmas lights in the middle of nowhere on the road back in to Lismore
And on the way home, we spotted a house lit up like a Christmas Tree on darkened road half way between Nimbin and Lismore. Of course, we had to stop for a photo :)
I fondly recall the last time I attended a public poetry night in Lismore, though it’s been quite a while. The memory that stands out is the gathering was at The Rous Hotel, where I unexpectedly encountered my former high school teacher, Kerry Balzer, who shared her poetry. Her genuine pleasure at my continued interest in poetry, beyond high school, warmed me. She died a few years ago.
In my high school days, poetry was a passion of mine. I studied English to 3-Unit level in the NSW Higher School Certificate. I remember studying the likes of Australian luminaries, Les Murray and Bruce Dawe. They might still be on the HSC reading list today? However, it was the poetry of Gerard Manly Hopkins, perhaps resonating with my Catholic upbringing, that left the most indelible mark on me.
For the HSC, I produced a volume of poetry that my teacher thought was very good. There were moments of brilliance, he said, but also areas of inconsistency. I have no idea where that volume of poetry is. It probably washed away in a flood. I can still remember elements of the works though,
This week, I saw an advertisement for a poetry night at The Metropole Hotel and felt compelled to attend. Among the attendees was Mariska Pinkerton, a local poet with a well-known Lismore surname who I chatted with early in the night. We talked about David Hallet, the organiser of the night, who I first encountered during my days as a teenage community radio volunteer, organizing poetry events even then.
Andy & Judith perform together at the poetry night in Lismore
David’s enduring passion for poetry was evident as he led the evening’s festivities. Despite the modest turnout, the ambiance of the open area at the pub made for a very pleasant evening. A highlight of the night was the performance by visiting Melbourne poet Koraly Dimitriadis, who had a very theatrical, raw style of performance.
Today, I visited the “Earth Matter” exhibition at the Lismore Regional Gallery. Despite the gallery’s flood damage a couple of years ago, they have a temporary storefront exhibition space on Magellan Street. A smaller space, but still great works. The work that captivated me most today was a piece titled “Connection” by artist Lae Oldmeadow, which I thought was reminiscent of entwined serpents.
“Connection” by artist Lae Oldmeadow
As for the exhibition overall…
Earth Matter” brings together artists who utilize natural materials to explore diverse themes, from the beauty of nature to environmental activism. Each work embodies a message about our relationship with the natural world, urging us to cherish and preserve it for posterity.”
I only dropped in to the gallery by chance, as I was waiting for an appointment at the nearby barber shop, which happened to be closed for lunch
Upon arriving at the barber shop after lunch, they promptly offered me a slot.
“I’m attending a school reunion,” I told the barber, “and I need to spruce up a bit.” After a few minutes of conversation, he mentioned that his mother attended the same school as I did, albeit a few years earlier.
“What was her name?” I asked, to which he replied, “Shirley O’Brien.”
“She’s my cousin, and we spoke yesterday, and your Aunty Rosie has come to visit too.”, I told him. Being twenty years younger than me, he seemed genuinely shocked that I knew so much about his heritage, including knowing his late nan, who was married to my dad’s brother. “She had a great garden”, he remembered of her house in North Lismore.
