When you’re invited to a night at the Museum Of Contemporary Art in Sydney, you should never refuse the invitation. Unless there’s a cruise ship in port at the Overseas Passenger Terminal, the upstairs cafe at the MCA enjoys spectacular views of both the Sydney Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge. And the MCA has an awesome collection of works. And so when my friend invited me to Art Bar at the MCA tonight, an event which I’ve been to several times before, of course I said yes.
Though I wasn’t familiar with the artist who chose tonight’s works, and I wasn’t overly excited about the “performance” work, I loved hanging out with my friend, and a broader circle of acquaintainces, enjoyed the art on display, including some of the short films, and especially loved the all-female rock band who performed tonight. An absolute highlight!!
A very “arty crowd”, as you’ll see from the awesome photographs.
Conscious that I sometimes share material on other platforms that never makes “the cut” here on my blog, here’s a few tweets, posts, and observations that still seem relevant from May. Lots of ephemera, but hopefully still quite entertaining.
May 1 : Oh my goodness. @kimhonan Wow!!! ButterflyRadio This just landed in my box. Thanks @petercave 🙏🏻. The program guide for 2NR (now ABC North Coast) with the Richmond birdwing butterfly and also featuring @zdaniel (then @ABCRural reporter), James O’Brien and @angelacatterns (now presents Saturday Breakfast here). Astonished face
May 9 : Catching a bus and noticing how grabbing a seat is like how men use urinals: you find the farthest possible distance away, and then when it gets too full, it gets awkward.
May 9 : Sad news about the death of Frank Crook, awesome journalist and broadcaster. From the ABC Radio archives, March 1988, Frank Crook wrote an article about the closure of “The Sun”, which he read on the Andrew Olle Morning Show.
May 9 : You gotta love the Swedes!! Samir & Viktor & TIX with their song about having no money, and sitting home alone, drinking. – Karantän (Lyric Video)
May 10 : Many fond memories of Barons in Sydney, where until the mid 00s, you could drink after a serve of garlic bread. Also, back at The Terminus in Brisbane during the 80s. @kagij Pubs will in effect be treated like restaurants. People can have a drink but only with a meal. Seated dining only, max 20 people (and must adhere for four square metre rule)
How to listen to digital radio without a digital radio – hopefully a useful chat on the radio today
May 11 : Joan Croll, who was one of the “Women of Kelly’s Bush” (the first green ban) spoke on @abcsydney this afternoon about Jack Mundey
May 18 : Scrolling through Foxtel On Demand and noticed this program in this category. Light Entertainment. So, is this confirmation I don’t need to take it seriously?May 19 : One of the awesome things about working from is not having to wear headphones, or worry about disturbing my workmates while editing.May 22 : A friend from overseas asked a very good question, “So they want you to sit where someone else has just sat?”May 23 : Love this colourized version of a B&W pic of Gloria O’Brien (second from the right) at a Lismore nightclub in the 1960s. Scowls, cigarettes! What were they drinking? Someone has suggested it was “Porphyry Pearl”. A bit before my time – does that sound right?May 25 : Looking at some old photographs, and found this. It’s Studio 225 at ABC Radio in Sydney, prob 1995 ish Ouija, the D-cart terminal and the cart Machines are long gone, and there re brand new CD players now, but the localisation box (probably the same one) is still there.
May 26 : Flu Shot : After a few weeks my local pharmacy was stocked up, and ready for “walk ins”. Only downside was having to wait in store for 15 minutes afterwards in case there were side-effects. Bought lots of things I didn’t need. And, getting shirtless with flabby old arms!
May 27 : Feeling ashamed I’ve never visited NZ, even though it’s so close, and even though I previously had a partner originally from there. Some friends have described NZ as a “back-pocket holiday destination”, when you can’t afford somewhere else. The time is now.
Three slices of ham please... As I took my number from the ticket-machine at the deli section of my local supermarket tonight I wondered how long I might have to wait. Honestly, I’ve never seen that many people in Coles before, as I generally shop in the quieter parts of the day such as early morning or later at night.
With ticket number forty-nine, I had to wait about ten minutes. And all I wanted was a few slices of nice ham. When it comes to Christmas, I’m particularly anti-consumerist. I just don’t think spending a lot money on things other probably don’t need and eating too much is what it’s all about. But I don’t mind the odd little treat here and there, such as really expensive, nice ham.
So I waited, and as I did I watched the ham slowly disappearing before my eyes. A few slices here, a few slices there but I figured all would be okay since the numbering system had reached forty-six and there was still a half a pile of ham left.
But then number forty-eight told the assistant “I’ll just have the rest”, and the ham literally disappeared before my eyes.
“Number forty-nine” they called out, and I raised my hand. “Just a few slices of ham, thanks”, I said, with a response in the negative. “We’re all out of ham”, he told me.
It’s not all bad though, as I ended up buying my second, third and fourth favourite indulgent treats: some blueberries, some pate and some mussels. That’s my Christmas treat for 2008.
Christmas 2008 As I said when it comes to Christmas, I’m much more in the “thanksgiving” camp than the consumerist camp. I actually like the American tradition, or at least the idea if “Thanksgiving”, being a time when you show gratittude and reflect on the really important things that make your life and community worthwhile.
I’m also a Christian – don’t worry, I’m not one of those God-bothering type – so Christmas also means for me some kind of reflection of the essential values of Christianity, such as the love and concern for other human beings.
That said, I wasn’t feeling entirely Christian values towards #48 who took all the ham :)
But as I look back on the year and on my life, I’m really grateful for the year. It’s been a great year for me. In fact, it’s been a year of unexpected happiness. I hope it’s also been the same for you. And if not, I hope next year offers you the love and nourishment that you (all of us) deserve in our lives.
“I love some good old-fashioned drag”, I whispered in the ear of my friend, Michaela, one of the friends I attended the First Nations Supreme Drag Queen Event at Carriageworks last night, as part of World Pride.
One of the drag queens had just lip-synched to the awesome Whitney Houston song, “I Have Nothing” from “The Bodyguard”. Another lip-synched to Donna Summer’s “Macarthur Park”. In the midst of the more modern tunes, it was great to hear some old-school drag as well.
There was such joy in the room last night, as people sang along, laughed and thoroughly enjoyed the performances.
“One of the best nights of my life”, a friend messaged me today.
Michaela, who co-produced the “Blak Divaz” documentary about the very first “Miss First Nations” event noted how far they have come since the early days of 2017.First Nation Supreme QueenFirst Nation Supreme QueenFirst Nation Supreme QueenFirst Nation Supreme Queen
It was such a great night and a welcome diversion from the commemoration of the anniversary of the catastrophic flood in Lismore 12 months ago.
Though I’ve written a fair bit (maybe too much?) about the flood https://thelimbshift.com/2022-lismore-flood/, I’d highly recommend this piece written by an ABC colleague, Leah White who is from Lismore, and who experienced the flood both from a professional and personal perspective.
I was terrified I might not have a mum at the end of the day, terrified of being on the other end of the phone — unable to help — as she slowly drowned in flood water.
I didn’t think I would become emotional about the first anniversary. but by mid-afternoon, after seeing, reading and hearing so many reports in the media throughout the day, I shed a few tears.
Leah’s piece has articulated so beautifully the same anguish I felt on the night, being a long way away, talking to my family, and desperately being on the phone to police / SES for someone to come and save them. I also felt the pain of knowing they could have drowned. Even when they were rescued, I was terrified, as they stood on the Ballina Street bridge it would wash away. And then an hour or so later, I got a message from the son of our next-door neighbour asking “Do you know where mum is”? and, at the time, we didn’t.
After a low moment last night, feeling frustrated by my inability to navigate a crowded environment, I was hoping for a quick turnaround. Attending the ‘No Limits’ amputee conference today was exactly the right antidote.
I woke up to a lovely blog post comment from my former colleague, Rosie, who thanked me for my honest in last night’s post and said it (and other posts) gave her a greater insight into my experiences as someone living with an acquired disability. I write this journal for two reasons: to help me make sense of my own world, and in the hope that it will help others going through similar challenges.
The conference began with an insightful talk by Paralympian, Don Elgin. Don, a multi-sport Paralympian who was born with different-length limbs, spoke about the greatest piece of advice he could give to other amputees and people with limb differences.
It’s the same advice given on aeroplanes: put your own oxygen mask on first before attempting to help someone else. It was a perfect thought to keep in mind, especially after my feelings of self-doubt.
I first saw Don speak last year, and even as the host again today, his stories felt fresh and authentic. He realized long ago that he had the power to inform people about disability, and that’s what keeps him motivated—a feeling I can relate to with this blog.
Don Elgin: You can find more about Don’s work at his website: donelgin.com.au.
Another truly inspiring speaker was Adam Smith, an amputee from the NSW Central Coast. After becoming very sick in 2023, Adam had all four of his limbs amputated. He spoke about the darkness he felt while in the hospital but quickly resolved to not stay in that place. He constantly pushes himself to his limits, describing his experiences bushwalking in difficult environments and boxing with prosthetic lower arms. He was a fascinating and lovely person to chat with afterward.
I also spoke to some other people I know from the ‘Limbs for Life’ Facebook group, and had a great chat with Luke Missen, a champion tennis player from Bairnsdale. Luke, who is of short stature, is an internationally-renowned Australian player in assisted tennis—a sport played standing up, unlike wheelchair tennis, but with slightly different rules.
He told me about a tournament happening next Thursday just down the road from where I live in Sydney, and I’m looking forward to going along to watch, and maybe give it a try.
One of the great champions of this type of tennis is comedian Adam Hills. Known for hosting the TV show The Last Leg, Adam was born with limb difference, uses prosthetics, and is a prominent advocate for disability awareness, and he was there today. We connected through our shared history at the ABC, and I had a chance to get a photo with him, which was a real highlight of the day.
I didn’t quite make it to the end of the conference, coming home just after lunch, because I was feeling a little tired. but it was a fantastic experience.
When I first arrived, I was struck by how much had changed in just 12 months. This time last year, my physical state was so different. Today, I’m further along in my journey, and it was funny to find myself looking around at other amputees. Normally, I’m the first one looking for a seat, but this time I found myself scanning the room to see if someone else might need it more than me—a fascinating change in perspective.
There were some fun moments too, including a physiotherapy class led by Cathy Howells OAM | Amputee Physiotherapist, a well-known expert in the amputee space. While the stretching and lunges weren’t my favourite, we finished with some great choreographed dance moves. I suddenly realised how totally uncoordinated I am, as I struggled to follow the routines, but it was a lot of fun. At one point, I wished we could have just done a dance I already knew the steps to: “Time Warp!”
It wasn’t so long ago, that if you saw someone walking along the street talking to themselves you instantly knew they had some kind of mental illness. Nowadays, thanks to the mobile phone and the mp3 player and the proliferation of headsets, you just can’t tell anymore. I’ve actually become one of those people who walks around talking to themselves. In Swedish no less, as I listen to lessons and give the responses out loud. “Vad heter du?”, the mp3 player says. “Jag heter James”, I repeat out load. So far it’s only managed to get me one strange look, and that was from a couple of Swedish backpackers on George Street.
Although they probably thought I sounded totally stupid, like a two year old speaking Swedish, I’m making some progress, though I still feel a long way short of having a half-decent conversation. I’m hopeful that, like when I went to Germany having learned German in High School, a lot of it will suddenly become more apparent. It’s not much fun just talking to yourself everyday. I wish I had a Swedish partner, for example, to chat with. But I don’t, so I’m left talking to myself on the streets of Sydney.
It wasn’t so long ago, that if you saw someone walking along the street talking to themselves you instantly knew they had some kind of mental illness. Nowadays, thanks to the mobile phone and the mp3 player and the proliferation of headsets, you just can’t tell anymore. I’ve actually become one of those people who walks around talking to themselves. In Swedish no less, as I listen to lessons and give the responses out loud. “Vad heter du?”, the mp3 player says. “Jag heter James”, I repeat out load. So far it’s only managed to get me one strange look, and that was from a couple of Swedish backpackers on George Street.