It’s one of those beautiful late summer/early autumn days in Sydney. It’s the kind of day you know you just can’t waste. And I do have a bit planned for the afternoon. But what have I done so far? Well not a lot really. There was a phone call from work. I’ve chatted with someone on the internet. I’m working on this blog post. And I’ve gone through the photographs from last night. It’s remarkable, isn’t it, how many photographs you can take when you’ve had a beer or twelve.
The night started off at the Art Gallery of NSW with the official launch of the Archibald Prize. Champagne and canapes, 1000 people (I’d estimate), and some great art. How could you go wrong? I’m not a great fan of this year’s winning portrait, although I understand why it won. The “highly commended” portrait of Heath Ledger probably should have won, though I understand why it didn’t. For me, the portrait of Heath provokes a genuine emotive response, whereas the winning portrait doesn’t. People just seemed to walk past the winning portrait, hardly noticing it was there, whereas the portrait of Heath was viewed and enjoyed by many. The packer’s prize, which was the portrait of Neil Finn was okay, though not spectacular. And that’s probably how I would sum up most of this year’s work – okay, but not spectacular, in stark contrast to last year’s exhibition which I thought was excellent. I’m heading off to Salon des Refuses at S.H. Ervin later this afternoon, by the way, to see those works which didn’t quite make it.
After the Archibald, we headed off to have dinner at Snakebean where the food, as usual was excellent.
Aside from an Australian Of The Year function on Thursday night at Boy Charlton Pool (now that’s a great location for a late afternoon cocktail party), catching up with mates on Wednesday night, and Swedish class on Tuesday night, it’s just been work, work, work.
I really love Circular Quay. In particular, I love sitting down there quietly having an early morning coffee, and I love watching people having their photographs taken in front of the Opera House or the Harbour Bridge. I love seeing the look of excitement on their faces, as so many of them have come from other parts of the world, including other parts of Australia. They’re all taking very similar photographs, but somehow every photograph is unique as the light and cloud varies fro moment to moment.
These photographs were taken within about sixty minutes of each other. They remind me about how, even now, after 13 years living in Sydney, I still get a buzz out of seeing both the house and the bridge. And I love catching the ferry and taking that trip to Manly, saying goodbye to the city one minute, and then marvelling at its beauty as you return. And even when you’re not taking in the views, and you just close your eyes and enjoy the sunshine or the wind on your face, you know you’re suddenly in a very special place.
I spent a few months in hospital last year after my below the knee right leg amputation. This inclulded a few days in an induced coma, and on heavy medication. In one of my hallucinogenic dreams, I wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital bathroom alone because “my faeces were so toxic they would poison the entire Sydney water supply”. In another drug-induced dream, I was convinced one of the nurses was planning to blow up the hospital
In common, Tom Nash in the book “Hook, Line, and Sinner,” describes some hilarious coma-related dreams while he too was in hospital. He also describes the weird situation of being in a coma and knowing a little about what what going on around him, but not entirely. I totally understood what he meant when he said, you know “when you’re being talked to and when you’re being talked about.”
My friend Andrea gave me the book before Christmas because she thought I would be interested in Tom’s story as a fellow amputee. And when I say amputee, his situation was a little more dramatic than mine, having had both arms and legs removed due to Meningococcal disease. She also thought I would like the book because the writing displays such a great level of self-awareness, and such a great sense of humor.
Andrea interviewed Tom for ABC Radio a few months ago and introduced us to each other in the foyer of ABC Radio Sydney. We chatted briefly, with a laugh-out-loud moment where we noted we had seen each other with a double take earlier in the day in the foyer of the ABC in Ultimo. I was having coffee with a colleague, Elizabeth Wright, who is also a Paralympic swimmer. Though not an amputee (she was born with different length limbs), she wears prosthetics. “For a moment, I thought it was amputee’s day at the ABC,” Tom joked.
I’m not exactly sure why I’ve been holding off reading the book, though I’m sure there’s something deep and psychological going on to explain why it has remained unread. Although some friends have given me other books and readings about the experiences of amputees, I’ve also been holding off on reading them also. The other books and readings probably fall into the category of “inspiring stories,” about people who’ve lost limbs in dramatic circumstances but have then gone on to climb Mount Everest.
Jokingly, Tom says this book is not an “inspiring story of someone with a disability”.
The book is in three “acts”: life before contracting the illness, his experiences in hospital, and his reflections on the amputations, and his life afterward.
His early life involved a childhood in South Africa and the United States before finally settling in Sydney with his mother, after his parents separated. His early life wasn’t particularly extraordinary, aside from the anecdotes about teenage drug and alcohol use (nothing terribly extraordinary) and setting up his own small business along with a friend.
On starting university, he began working at a pub in Balmain, and it was during that year that he contracted Meningococcal disease, a severe, often deadly disease. In Tom’s case, much of the skin on his body, especially his arms and legs, was impacted. Effectively, the skin “died,” which led to the amputations.
He was in the hospital for many months, including being in the burns unit, due to the impact of the disease on his skin. His descriptions of the pain he experienced throughout, including when the wounds were dressed daily, are confronting. At some points, he said he considered suicide. He also described the dedication of family and friends, including his mother who was there every and helped with the wounds dressing.
The book also describes his recovery, includintg his first experience of dating a community support worker who was assisting someone assigned to help with him. He describes the apprehension he felt about whether or not he was still sexually attractive to women due to the amputations, but he also comes across with a lovely self-confidence that he should give it a go, nonetheless. The relationship lasted a few months.
The third act of the book describes the years after the medical procedure, and how his life is now, aged in his early forties. I won’t go on with the plot, except to say Tom has a good story to tell.
Tom has a lovely writing style that is engaging, with a lovely sense of self-awareness, and a wicked sense of humour. I really loved reading this book on so many levels, and even if you haven’t had an amputation, it’s still a great story. I actually bought the audio book also, and Tom has a lovely voice that tells the story with such great authenticity.
And even if Tom says it’s not the “inspiring story of someone with a disability,” I found it so.
Promoted in Blockbuster VideoAs I walked down the street towards Sydney University, I noticed an ad for “Mamma Mia” in the window of Blockbuster Video.
The movie which haunted me throughout Europe will soon be available at my local video shop. The same video shop I haven’t been to for years because I was so embarassed at the $27 overdue fine I had to pay eight years ago (or thereabouts).
I was on my way to Sydney University for a “Media Industry Night” put on by one of the student groups. In comparison with the main drawcard – Ray Martin – I was a minor player, though quite a few of them were interested in what I had to say, even if a couple of them confused me with James O’Loghlin. “We’re both bald”, I reassured one of them, when he realised the mistake he’d made.
It was a really interesting reminder of my own university days a thousand years ago. Most of the students seemed to have no clear idea of what they want to do when they finish their courses, echoing the experience of most of my peers back in the 1980s.
In common with these kids I lived through a reasonably difficult economic period. “Everyone goes on about how we are gonna cope, as such a materialistic generation”, one of them said to me at one point. He was reassured, I think, when I mentioned similar comments were made about my generation.
Despite what’s often said about the generation gap, I think we all go through similar experiences from generation to generation. I think it’s too simple (simplistic) to make generalisations about Gen X, Gen Y and whatever comes after that.
There was only one occasion when I had to turn my head and smile at what I thought was one of the naïve thoughts/ideas of youth when we discussing some issue or such. One of the guys picked up on it, I know, though he didn’t draw attention to it.
Later though, he asked why I’d bothered to come in a genuinely inquiring way. It was then I pointed towards Ray Martin and said “Ray didn’t have to come, either but he did” alluding towards a genuine sense of altruism.
I could have been at home watching television, or playing on the internet, but I really enjoyed my experience visiting Sydney University tonight. Despite what you often read about the cynicism of this generation of kids going through university today, they seemed like a genuinely nice bunch, with a genuine sense of optimism towards the future. I hope they do well.
I had the pleasure of seeing two fantastic films recently, each with its own unique appeal.
The first was “Of An Age,” a movie that almost lost me during the opening sequence with its frenetic pace and my lack of sympathy for the characters.
However, I’m so glad I stuck with it because the rest of the film unfolds at a much more leisurely pace and captures the heart of a young man who’s finally accepting his sexuality. The central character, Ari, struggles with his identity in a culturally diverse environment, and the story reminded me of other great films like “Loaded” and “Head On.”
Overall, I highly recommend “Of An Age,” but be patient with the first fifteen minutes.
The second film I saw was “Allelujah,” and I was expecting a light-hearted English comedy with a star-studded cast that included Judi Dench, Derek Jacobi, Russell Tovey, and Jennifer Saunders.
However, the film surprised me with a plot twist that, in hindsight, should have been more apparent given that it’s based on a play by the renowned playwright Alan Bennett.
“Allelujah” explores themes of aged care and is filled with memorable performances, including Saunders in a role that’s a departure from her usual comedic roles.
Despite the audience being mostly composed of seniors, the film’s themes are universal, and I’d highly recommend it to anyone who appreciates thoughtful storytelling.
Like this:
LikeLoading…
Related
One Comment
It’s gotta be said about the Heath Ledger portrait that it probably wouldn’t be producing all this hubub had it not been for Heath’s untimely death… Granted I personally think it’s a spectacular painting, and I’m with you about the winner, it just leaves me cold and slightly unimpressed.
But then I usually am cold and slightly unimpressed with WHATEVER wins… ;)
It’s gotta be said about the Heath Ledger portrait that it probably wouldn’t be producing all this hubub had it not been for Heath’s untimely death… Granted I personally think it’s a spectacular painting, and I’m with you about the winner, it just leaves me cold and slightly unimpressed.
But then I usually am cold and slightly unimpressed with WHATEVER wins… ;)