A couple of weeks ago, I had a grand plan that I would re-commence blogging every day. Inspired by people like Carol and Andrew, who post more regularly than I do, I thought I’d give it a shot. For a few years I did in fact blog every day (or pretty close to it), as I thought it would be a great way for me to keep a track of my life, hoping to improve things. And for a good while, it happened. But then life and work got in the way of things. Instead of coming home, inspired to share some pearl of wisdom or exciting adventure, I found myself coming home, collapsing on the couch, and barely able to string a few words together. Yeah, I can tweet, or share a brief update of my life on Google+ or Facebook, but blogging requires (to my mind), more thoughtful consideration. I definitely have that space when I’m travelling, and in 2017, I’ll be travelling to both Spain and Sweden. So yeah, I haven’t got there yet in terms of more regular posts, but in the meantime, here’s a few photographs from the first couple of weeks of my life in 2017.
“You’re saving up for something special?”, the bloke behind the counter asked me,
“Not sure, maybe…” I said in reply.
On a whim I bought a money box today.
I haven’t had one for many years.
First there were the plastic pigs you eventually hacked to pieces.
And later, there was the more grown up “miniature bank” you could more simply open.
Even at university, I’m sure I had a money box. Never much money. But a money box, nonetheless.
And for the last ten years or so I’ve been collecting coins in plastic take-away contains.
I have five of them on my kitchen benchtop – 5c, 10c, 20c, 50c, $1 – in which I place loose change until eventually I have enough to make a visit to the bank.
I used to love the “counting machine” my local branch used to have, which swirled around like a merry-go-round, and which both sorted the coins and gave you a final sum.
It’s not as interesting these days to go to the bank, as they simply weigh the coins. Boring… :)
“How much do you think it will hold?”, the bloke asked me. He suggested maybe $900 or $1000.
“No idea”, I told him.
And I guess that’s part of the appeal of my new money box. It’s quite large, and will need a can-opener to retrieve the contents.
One day when it’s full – or I need cash – I can’t wait for the thrill of going to the bank with my freshly opened money box and seeing what’s inside.
And when I know how much I have, I’ll decide what to do with it.
Unlike saving for a specific project, this one has brought out the child in me again, I think.
Since childhood, my days have revolved around work. Evenings have been spent hunched over tasks until exhaustion. Waking thoughts have been consumed by the next project.
Being a journalist, a “passion job,” probably made it worse. News is always lurking. I vividly recall a dinner party years ago when an interesting comment by someone sparked the journalist in me, and my then partner, Damien, gently reminded me. “Stop. It’s not a story. Just enjoy the evening” he said.
Occasional self-reflection throughout my life has revealed the folly of my ways. After a mid-life crisis and a rejuvenating travel break in 2008, I vowed to take proper lunch breaks and disconnect after work. Yet, I soon found myself back on the workaholic treadmill.
Last year’s health scare, likely fueled by my workaholic tendencies (eating, drinking, and working), forced a hard stop in my life.
As I begun my recovery early mornings in hospital were spent weak and reliant on others, a stark contrast to my usual frenetic pace. I was entranced by the rising of the morning star out my hospital window.
Returning to work, part-time at first, I resolved to never revisit that state of work exhaustion. But lately, with a near-full-time schedule, the familiar pre-sleep and morning work anxieties have crept back.
This triggered introspection. I yearned to recapture the simple joys of my days in hospital, or my pre-school days – listening to country music with my dad over breakfast. Or the periods in my adult life where mornings began with calming walks or quiet relaxation before work.
Last year, I experimented with a new morning routine – music instead of the news. The difference was remarkable. In recent weeks, I’ve extended this practice, savoring the sound of the nearby birdsongs and music instead of the immediate pressure of work brought about the news. It feels incredibly good.
I acknowledge the privilege of my position – a middle-class government job that allows for breaks and a work-life balance, a luxury many lack. For example, today’s midday half-hour nap that was needed to recover from physical exertion was easy for me to take.
I also aknowledge the later life privileges this has brought me. By working so hard in my early years, I have a good income, superannuation etc, albeit at some cost.
And as I approach retirement, albeit a few years away, I’ve finally grasped (perhaps belatedly) the importance of work-life balance. It’s a concept I now fully embrace.
I’ve always been fond of the bottle-brush (aka Callistemon).
We had one in our front yard of the house in which I grew up in South Lismore. I remember when dad planted it, it seemed like a fragile little thing. The last time I drove past the house, I noticed it was still there, almost as tall as the two story house itself. I think dad would be happy to know it has survived for thirty to forty years.
Until earlier this morning, I’d never really noticed the bottle brush in my street in Surry, Hills, Sydney. But as I made my way down the street to get a haircut, I was literally stopped in my tracks by the beauty of this one. The colours are vibrant, even if you can’t necessarily see them in my photograph taken on my phone.
2015 was the year in which I’ve begun to reacquaint myself with my love of country music. As I wrote a few months ago:
Despite my inner-city reputation, I actually know a fair bit about country music, and I have lots of great “special experts” to draw upon to supplement the areas in which my knowledge is a little short. Having grown up in Lismore, I grew up with a lot of country music. Johnny Cash, Conway Twitty, Loretta Lynnn and the like were the soundtrack to my youth. And then having lived in a number of other country towns, I learned a lot more. I visited the Tamworth Country Musical Festival several times, as well as other festivals like Barmera and Gympie, and there was was even one year where I was a judge for Tamworth. For me, country music, the authentic stuff (I was never into anything cheesy) has been a strong part of “who I am”.
But having worked in “capital city radio” over the last decade, my attention has been drawn away from country music until recently when my attention has been brought back on a few levels. And so I’ve been listening to a lot of country music over the last few weeks, and revisiting some wonderful “old friends”.
It wasn’t intended. It was something which came out of the re-structure of the ABC announced back in November. As a result of the changes, the people looking after “ABC Country” were made redundant, which meant responsibility for keeping the station on air fell with me. Realistically, there’s not a lot of work required, as the station operates pretty much as an automated playlist station without presenters.
That said, it’s important for it to remain contemporary, which means adding in new songs, and it’s important that it should sound like a radio station, and not someone’s ipod! So I took it on, and was determined to achieve a few things. First, we’ve changed the station identifications which I hope bring a little more “life” to the sound, especially as they feature “real people” who are country fans. Second, we increased the amount of Indigenous performers on the station to include some wonderful new performers like Dewayne Everett-Smith, as well as classic performers like Roger Knox and The Mills Sisters. Third, we’ve increased the amount of Australian content from around 25% to about 70% at the moment. Fourth, we’ve introduced a new category of music called “classic country” which pays respect to some of the great performers of the past. And I have a great team of “volunteers” (country music fans within the ABC) as well as paying for some people with expertise in the area to help with the transformation. Honestly though, it’s been for LESS than the smell of an oily rag :) And for me it’s been a real passion project, mostly done “out of hours”. I genuinely love listening to the station, and I’ve re-developed my passion for country music. I love it.
So, with that in mind, here are my favourite country music tunes from this year (and the end of 2014)
Adam James is an Indigenous singer from Queensland. I think he’s terrific, with great songs. This song makes me a little sad with its lyrics.
Here’s some other Aussie favourites…
And in case you’re wondering, I’ve even managed to sneak in a couple of Swedish tracks in to ABC Country, as part of the desire to play more than just country from Nashville. Though a couple of years old, I love this tune from First Aid Kit, who I saw play in Sydney a few years ago.
I love this song by Canadian, Dean Brody. This song has a “Life At The Outpost” feel about it. Totally catchy.
Strictly speaking this song was from the end of last year, though I only discovered it this year. It’s from an American singer and the lyrics deal with same sex relationships.
In a more “traditional” sense, I really loved this song from Justin Standley.
My favourite band from the year was Melbourne-based Mustered Courage.
And in particular, I loved their cover-version of September
They’re also playing at Meatstock, in 2016 which I am totally looking forward to.
Oh yeah, and I become totally addicted to the TV show, Nashville.
When you read a book you always think you know the “voice” of the narrator. You think you know their cadence, their intonation. By projecting aspects of your own life, and the voices in your head, you think you KNOW them. But it wasn’t until I saw the documentary, “Remembering The Man” on Thursday night, as part of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Film Festival, that I actually got to hear Tim Conigrave’s voice for the first time.
It’s over twenty years since I first read the book, “Holding The Man”, his memoir about his relationship with John Caleo (who he met at school), and their subsequent deaths in the mid-1990s from HIV/AIDS. Along the way, there’s also been a play, a feature length movie, and now a documentary about their lives and their relationship.
What’s different about the documentary is you actually get to hear Tim’s voice. At the centre of the film is an oral history made in the month’s before his death. Thus, Tim is not only the focus for the documentary, but also the narrator, similar to the way in which the voice of Peggy Guggeheim, the art collector is used in Peggy Guggenheim, Art Addict, which I saw a few months ago.
As someone who has spent most of his life consciously aware of “the voice”, I found it fascinating to hear Tim speak. To my ears, he had a lovely voice. An “actor’s voice”, in some ways. In the pieces of audio selected, he spoke clearly, in “proper sentences”, and with some confidence. He also spoke with honesty and with humour. “That’s enough, isn’t it?”, he said at one point (or words to that effect) to the person recording his story.
Over the top of Tim’s voice, there’s a wonderful collection of photographs. Though Tim and John were several years older than me, and spent their lives in Melbourne and Sydney, whereas I spent most of my earlier life in the country, there were so many photographs which I felt I could relate to. The parties, the gatherings, the lives of young people growing up in the 1970s and 1980s, and then, sadly, having to confront their own mortality in the 1990s.
There are also some really wonderful interviews with their friends, many of them amusing, and many of them moving. And there are some re-enactments of moments from their lives. In my view, the re-enactments were sometimes very powerful, but at other times a little superfluous. Nothing’s perfect.
“What did you think?”, my friend Graeme whispered in my ear as the credits rolled. “Really good, a really honest, heart-warming film, and about the right length. Though they’ll undoubtedly cut half an hour from the film by the time it makes it to television, this was close to perfect for the audience tonight”, I told him.
There was further catching up today as Damo and I went to the Aroma Festival, briefly pausing for one of those great photographic moments you can experience in The Rocks. I mean, there’s nothing quite like having the Sydney Harbour Bridge or the Opera House in the background for a photograph is there? And there were plenty of opportunities for that, as we wandered around drinking coffee and enjoying delicious foods.
It was an odd start to the morning, though, as I’d spent about 15 minutes waiting for the bus to arrive at Surry Hills. Meanwhile, there were two older men (who looked like they could have been related) who had clearly spent the night drinking heavily. They were still drinking at the bus stop this morning as they carried on a very loud, angry, argument with each other about something or other. I’m not exactly sure about what they were discussing, as I’d donned my earphones and was leaning on the railing of the nearby ANZ Bank. Please don’t notice me, I thought to myself, I don’t want to get involved in your argument just by inadvertently looking over.
After about ten minutes or so, the 355 to Bondi Junction arrived, much to the relief of about half a dozen people similar to myself who were hoping to catch a bus, but not wanting to actually be anywhere near the bus stop. When the two men got up to catch the bus, I noticed a collective sigh of relief, although no one actually moved closer to the bus stop until we were sure they had the money for the bus, had bought their tickets, and the bus had moved away.
As I was close to arriving at Circular Quay, I gave Damo a call. “I’m in the queue, meet you here in five”, he told me. “I’m in the queue for Genovese Coffee, what would you like?”, he asked. Just a simple flat white, I replied.
Aroma Festival
And what a flat white it was… probably the best flat white I’ve had in quite some time. Far better than the coffees available at work, far better than those at the cafe around the corner, and far better than the one made for me most days by the surly-looking blonde guy.
We also tasted some chai (which I’d never had before), and feasted on some of those wonderful strawberries dipped in chocolate.
As the crowd thickened, we wandered back to Damo’s place for a very yummy-tasting lunch which consisted of homemade bread, homemade dolmades (made with spinach), homemade sweet potato gnocchi, and homemade lamb ragu. It was a terrific meal topped off with a bottle of Helm 2000 cabernet-merlot, as I recall, which was very tasty about half an hour after the bottle was opened. If I were to give Damo a restaurant review, I’d give him 7 thumbs and at least 1 hat.
After lunch, we thought of heading back to the festival for some chocolate and more coffee, but it was all a bit too crowded.
Feeling quite full and very rested, I came home, watched “Jesus Christ Superstar” and then had a brief afternoon nap.
And so now it’s Sunday night and the only immediate excitement ahead of me is tonight’s double eviction on “Big Brother” and some clothes washing for work this week.
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It is very difficult to match Andrew’s output. He is an extraordinarily consistent blogger especially considering the range of subjects he touches upon.
There were a couple of things that made daily blogging stick for me this time. I’ve gone old school and pretty much confine myself to one channel, so everything goes on the blog – I gave up twitter because it made me too complainy/outraged, and never did get into google+ or facebook. And I literally phone it in sometimes – the wordpress app is pretty great for on-the-go posting.
I’m always happy to see a post from you no matter what the frequency!
It is very difficult to match Andrew’s output. He is an extraordinarily consistent blogger especially considering the range of subjects he touches upon.
Thanks for the shout out :)
There were a couple of things that made daily blogging stick for me this time. I’ve gone old school and pretty much confine myself to one channel, so everything goes on the blog – I gave up twitter because it made me too complainy/outraged, and never did get into google+ or facebook. And I literally phone it in sometimes – the wordpress app is pretty great for on-the-go posting.
I’m always happy to see a post from you no matter what the frequency!