The phone call from my friend Kate came at about 5.30 this afternoon. “What are you doing? Have you already left work?”
By chance I HAD already left work, and was on my way home.
It didn’t need much convincing, however, for me to backtrack and to head towards the new Central Park development for two new art exhibitions Kate was asked to open.
The first was in a pop-up arts space on the third floor of the new shopping centre. I think it’s really fantastic they’ve made the space available to artists, and hope they’ll continue to do so, even when they have more tenants.
The exhibition was by Jayanto Daminik who “recycles” teabags, turning them into beautiful works of art.
The second exhibition was at the nearby NG Gallery and featured the works of Bryden Williams, who won a scholarship for a residency at the Red Gate Gallery in Beijing, which Kate has worked at over a number of years.
Bryden Williams – China Is Real
He also “recycles” things, and spoke tonight of the large recycling centre not far from the Red Gate residency.
His work includes video – a terrific piece where he contrasts beautiful lilyponds in the foreground with industrial construction (very evident in Beijing) in the background – and sculpture.
A particular favourite work was a piece which featured a recycled water bottle. In China, many people rely on bottled water, as there’s a high degree of unreality with the local water supply. Bryden’s work takes a recycle water bottle and combines it with a string of LED lights, creating something completely new, asking you to take a look at the water bottle in a whole new way.
So that late afternoon call, as I made my way home, turned out to be quite a lovely way to spend an hour or two after work on a Tuesday night.
If I think about all of the things which have happened in terms of gay life in Lismore during my lifetime, there’s a lot to reflect upon.
As a teenager, I remember the homophobic editorials of Jim Brigginshaw, Editor of “The Northern Star”. I remember doing a school project, aged 16, where I was part of a group that interviewed him, and I was terrified. Lismore’s Big Log: As a teenager, I also remember the social scene was very much based around “the beats”, and in particular, the log outside the City Hall. For me, it wasn’t a “sex culture”, it was a social outlet to meet other guys. The house behind the trees was once home to “Double Dutch”, Lismore’s first gay-owned and operated restaurant, and which was very much a home to Lismore’s gay community during the 1980s. Later, the house became a residence for a couple: Les and Russell. Yes, South Lismore really did change!
I also remember Mike Bray and Vera Bourne (the mother of a schoolmate) hosting Gaywaves on the same community radio station I volunteered at (2NCR). As a young teenager, I remember listening in my bedroom on a Tuesday night. Later I went on to fill in as presenter on a few occasions. I remember the start of “Tropical Fruits”.
Winsome Hotel, Lismore: As an adult I remember the opening of The Winsome as a gay pub. The pub my dad used to drink at when I was a child, was suddenly the place to be.
As an adult, I also remember heading off to Tropical Fruits the night before my school reunion.
Tropical Fruits NYE at Lismore Showground
A lot has changed in Lismore, and I’m so proud the city in which I grew up hosts Tropical Fruits. Today, it was the street parade. Bravo Tropical Fruits.
Tropical Fruits Parade and LaunchTropical Fruits Parade and LaunchTropical Fruits Parade and LaunchTropical Fruits Parade and LaunchTropical Fruits Parade and Launch
Here it is, St Patrick’s Day 2007, and my thoughts have gone back to my visit to Slane, County Meath in Ireland in 1999.
The reason is simple: it’s believed that it was at Slane that St Patrick had a “spiritual standoff” in support of his plan to convert Ireland to Christianity. St Patrick is also said to have built his first church there.
The statue of St Patrick is located on the Hill of Slane (about ten minutes drive from the town centre), which, co-incidentally, is also the area where my O’Brien ancestors came from. Specifically, James O’Brien and Mary Smith who lived at the nearby village of Knockerk, before they came to Australia in 1864.
But if you think for a moment my trip to Ireland was a spiritual/genealogical journey only, think again…
Some photographs and images from tonight’s opening of the “Two Generations” exhibition of artists from Red Gate Gallery in Beijing, currently in Sydney for Chinese New Year. It’s at Sydney Town Hall for the next two weeks – do yourself a favour!
I’ve just had my first proper meal in almost seventy-two hours. I’ve been sick, you see, with this terrible flu that’s going around at the moment, which has already affected a few people I work with, putting one of them in hospital. And since I hadn’t eaten in that long, it shouldn’t be a surprise that I was drawn to the incredibly tasty combination of bacon and baked beans.
It all began Tuesday morning with a dry cough which I didn’t think too much about, and treated only by undoing my top button and loosening my tie. By the time I had decided to leave work early, I was already feeling my temperature rise. By Tuesday night, I had a really high temperature and my bones ached, both of which I treated with a series of baths and sleep. Yesterday was much the same.
Bacon and Beans
Walking in to the doctor at about lunchtime today, I became consciously aware I was surrounded in the waiting room by people with the same dry cough. Cough, splutter, but no phlegm. So yes, it really was the flu and not just the usual annual cold, the doctor told me. “Not a lot I can do for you”, he told me, “It seems viral, and the best thing is for you to rest up and keep up your fluids”.
I would write about other things in my life, such as going to the Helpmann Awards on Monday night, but I just don’t have the energy, so I will save it for another time.
I don’t think I’ve ever made it through passport control that quickly. It helped I was in one of the first few rows of economy class. It helped that ours was the only flight arriving at that time of night. And it helped, that I had only carry-on luggage. Even so, it was literally less than three minutes from when I joined the security queue to the moment when I emerged on “the other side”. I couldn’t believe my luck. And from there it was maybe a 10 minute walk to the Metro, where I purchased a five day pass. Half an hour later, and I was at the Bilbao Metro station, roughly 100 metres from my hotel, the Ibis Madrid Centro.
Though I toyed with the idea of going out for a walk around the streets to enjoy some of that legendary Spanish nightlife, the lure of a new hotel room with a good bed was too much. Instead, I opened the window, and simply enjoyed the sounds from the street below. On the fourth floor, I was high enough for the sounds to be pleasant, not annoying.
As always, I woke early. About 5.30am. Looking out the window it was still dark, and the moon was close to full. Checking online, I discovered sunrise isn’t until about 8.00am at the moment. So armed with that bit of information, and the freshness that comes from a good night’s sleep, I went for a walk around the nearby streets. There were still people out and about from the night before. Though a few people looked a little worse for wear, I felt no sense of aggression or anxiety.
When the sun finally arrived, I headed back downstairs for breakfast, and then into town to take part in one of the New Europe Free Walking Tours. “How many have done one of these before?”, our tour guide asked. Almost everyone, it seems. The first one I did was in Berlin in 2008, and since then I’ve done quite a few others. Though they’re called “free walking tours”, there’s an expectation you’ll tip the guide, and you’ll listen to some of their propaganda about other tours where you pay up front.
Ramon The Tour Guide
I was more than happy to leave a healthy tip for our tour guide, Ramón. 26 years old, and born in Argentina, he came to Madrid “about twelve years ago”, he explained. Articulate, well rehearsed, and with a wicked sense of humour, he was our guide for almost three hours, taking in some of the main tourist sites. He also provided us with terrific background on many things, including the emergence of tapas (one of the kings insisted bars provide food with alcohol to ensure worker productivity). I also asked him about the many flags around Madrid at the moment. He explained there are many reasons why people fly flags, ranging from pure and simple patriotism to neo-facism. “We have the same thing in Australia”, I told him.
Catholic Cathedral, MadridChristianity meets Islam in Madrid
After the tour I headed to the Vodafone shop to pick up a local SIM card. Though the wait was excruciating, the experience was made easier by having a charming, handsome sales assistant. It was so cute when he called out my name as “harmez”, and then corrected himself. I swear, I’ve fallen in love a thousand times since arriving in Madrid. The men here are very handsome. They’re also much shorter than I expected, and there’s also more cultural diversity than I expected, with many of the people on the tour, and many of the people I’ve since encountered, coming from South America.
At around 3.00 to 3.15, I finally settled in for lunch. Jamon. Olives. A couple of beers. I walked off the tourist strip to a nearby neighbourhood bar that was full of lots of older people, ordering large amounts of food, enjoying their wines and beers, and much, much laughter. It was about then I thought to myself, “I get this Spanish thing now”. It brought a smile to my face, an ear to ear grin.
I felt similarly when I wandered out last night for a drink and a bit of people watching. Unlike many other large cities in the world, Madrid still appears to have a significant “gay area”, centred around the street, Calle Pelayo. I had a beer at Pepito Grillo Cafe (an intimate bar attracting an older male crowd) before heading to LL Bar (attracting a range of ages for their drag shows).
When I arrived at LL there was only a handful of people, and it was at least an hour or so before many others started to arrive. In the first couple of hours, I got chatting to a guy from Colombia. He was in his 40s/50s, and he told me it was his first time in Europe. At first, he thought I was from Estonia, which I’ll put down to my poor diction. Later, during the drag show, he was my “translator” for the many songs and jokes in Spanish. There was a lovely buzz in the room.
As I wandered home, around 1.00am, there were large numbers of people still on the streets. The bars were still open, but many people were outside, enjoying the fresh air. “Would you like to buy some beers”, one of a number of young men said, as I walked by. This surprised me, as I’m sure I passed a number of shops still selling alcohol. In the midst of all these people, there was, again, no sense of anger or anxiety, and I didn’t see any alcohol-related violence. There you go Sydney, it’s possible.
I stayed in bed for as long as I “could” today. The last few weeks have been exhausting. But I still managed to get out and about, exploring Hobart. Terrific place.
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At first sight and before reading your text I thought the photo was some type of rainbow cake on a plate and it looked yummy.
At first sight and before reading your text I thought the photo was some type of rainbow cake on a plate and it looked yummy.
What a clever artist!
Really impressive works. The venue is terrific too – third floor of the new Central Park shopping centre. An artist-run space at the moment.