Of course I would LIKE her, given she first came to national prominence with the autobiographical play, “White Baptist ABBA Fan”. Though I’ve been aware of the music and works of the opera singer, Deborah Cheetham for about twenty years I’ve never seen her live before. Her performance at the National Indigenous Music Awards in Darwin was spell-binding.
Deborah Cheetham
Though there’s a tendency in some sections of the public and the media to group a whole bunch of people together under the banner “Indigenous Music” (political songs, rap, folk etc), her performance of that and of some others demonstrates how broadly superficial, and probably racist, that tendency can be.
Wilma Reading
There was, for example, a young guy from Sydney who played classical violin, combined with didgeridoo. There was a school aged choir from Western Australia. There was pop from Jessica Mauboy, and electronica from “Electric Fields”. And there was the awesome Aunty Wilma Reading who has made her career with show tunes and the like. She performed Barbra Streisand’s “Memories”, perhaps reflecting on the many changes she has seen in the ways in which Indigenous performers have been recognised over the last forty or fifty years. She was inducted into the Hall Of Fame, as were the awesome 1990s pop-folk group, Tiddas.
Tiddas, inducted into the Hall Of Fame (without Lou Bennett, who could not attend)
There were so many wonderful performances on the night from many artists, including Emma Donovan, Dan Sultan, and Uncle Jack Charles.
I’ve been feeling slightly restless in the last few days, and so have been wandering a fair bit, taking a few photographs here and there, a few of which looked better in black and white than colour, so I thought I’d share them. Nothing special, all on my camera phone, with a black and white filter.
“Is there much difference between the two legs?” I asked my massage therapist today. Since it was my first time having a massage from him, I expected him to be honest.
Despite living in my apartment block for several years, we only met a few months ago when I was discarding my bike, or rather, when my friend Michaela was doing so for me. Given my lower limb amputation, we anticipated it would be a while before I could ride a bike again, as I lacked both balance and strength. As Michaela was leaving the bike as a gift to the universe, he noticed what she was doing and took it off her hands.
Aside from the obvious, he told me that there wasn’t much difference between the two legs in terms of strength. “You could do some more work on your glutes, but couldn’t we all,” he joked.
In Surry Hills, we’re fortunate to have a variety of local massage therapists offering Thai Massage, and I usually visit them purely for relaxation purposes about half a dozen times each year.
However, now that I have a “medical issue,” I thought it would be a good idea to see someone regularly, someone who could become familiar with my body and keep an eye out for any potential issues that might require further attention from my physiotherapist. I informed him of this ahead of today’s first session.
Wednesday is my “health day,” dedicated to medical appointments and such. Besides the massage and a coffee with a friend, I also went for a swim today.
“Swimming” might be an exaggeration, though. More accurately, I splashed around a bit in the hydrotherapy pool at nearby Cook & Phillip. Although I can manage a little bit of backstroke, I don’t yet have the necessary strength to resume freestyle swimming. My physiotherapist and I have discussed how we might approach that, and most likely, I’ll take some swimming lessons.
As I sat in the pool, I glanced over at the legs of the nearby lifeguard. “He has good legs,” I thought to myself. They were nicely shaped, lightly tanned, a nice covering of body hair, and with some muscle but not too much. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m perving on him,” I wondered. Then, I looked down at my own legs. As I did, I noticed the refraction of the light in the water made the difference between my two legs all the more obvious.
I’ve always thought I had quite good legs, and the massage therapist today commented on my calf muscles in particular. As I compared the images, I never felt sad or anything about having lost about a third of my right leg. I just thought, “they’re different.” I still think I have nice legs.
Probably because I was surrounded by school kids at the pool, my mind wandered back to my own childhood and games like hopscotch, the three-legged race, and learning how to stand on one leg. I wondered to what extent these games might have been preparing us for later life and the possibility of losing a limb. And then I remembered that song from my childhood from “Sesame Street” where they sang about having two eyes, two arms etc. They probably don’t sing it anymore, but it has fond memories for me.
I also thought about all those wedding photographs in the period after World War I where the men were often seated while the women stood, reflecting the fact that many men lost their legs in WW1 due to bombs. If you consider history and look around the world, so many people have experienced what I’m experiencing right now, albeit in different circumstances.
You know how some albums become lifelong companions. You don’t listen to them every day, but every so often, you pull them out and they feel like coming home. For me, one of those albums is Blood Oranges by Melanie Oxley and Chris Abrahams.
I first discovered this album in 2003 and was immediately captivated. Though I knew of Melanie Oxley primarily through her family connections to the band The Sunnyboys, this album was such a revelation. Its songs explore deep emotions with beautiful, often melancholic instrumentals, but they also carry an undercurrent of optimism. It’s a masterful balance of sadness and hope.
For me, the highlight of tonight’s concert was their performance of several tracks from Blood Oranges, including my personal favorite, “If I Let It Go?”
It was a thrill to hear these songs live again. Interestingly, some of their more upbeat tracks, like the pop-oriented “Troublemaker” and the title track “Blood Oranges,” were reimagined with a more laid-back, intimate feel. As well as they songs I first heard twenty years ago, they did songs from their more recent releases, too.
Performing at the Annandale Arts Centre, a beautifully converted former church, the duo — accompanied by a fantastic jazz double bassist, Jonathan Zwartz – created a warm, intimate atmosphere. This was a far cry from the legendary Basement venue where I first saw them perform, but it was perfect for the occasion. The smaller crowd and stunning setting made for a truly special night.
Melanie’s voice is simply beautiful and ethereal, delivering lyrics that are at times dark, yet always seem to hold a glimmer of optimism. Chris’s piano work is wonderfully meandering, often exploring minor keys with a touch of Burt Bacharach-like flair on the more upbeat numbers. The interaction between him and the double bassist was fantastic, at times almost improvisational.
It was wonderful to hear that after 30 years of performing together, Melanie and Chris may be becoming more active again. They’ve even started an email list to keep fans updated on future performances. This concert felt less like a one-off gig and more like a sign of new beginnings. It was a beautiful evening of music and a lovely reunion with an album that has been part of my life for so long.
You know how smells can take you back in time? Visual and audio clues are one thing, but smells can take you right back in an unexpected kinda way. I’m sure it’s something that goes back to the womb (or earlier?)
The first time I opened the bottle of newish shampoo, recently, I thought of my dad forty years ago. Yes, I use shampoo, despite my male-pattern baldness. “That’s the same smell of the shampoo dad used to use”, I thought to myself.
As a child, I remember dad used a particular type of shampoo with a distinctive smell. Nothing “floral”, it was the smell of tar. Yes, tar, the stuff you find on the road, though there are probably a few “sweeteners” in the mixture. It’s not just bitumen. I’m sure I thought it was odd back then, but now “tar shampoo” makes far more sense.
That’s because, throughout my life, I’ve lived with a skin condition called psoriasis. Not consistently, just from time to time. First, as a teenager, and then more recently over the last couple of years. It’s pretty gross, resulting in really bad dandruff, and sometimes bleeding (if you pick it, which I sometimes do). On my legs, my back, and now on my scalp.
Psoriasis is a long-lasting, noncontagious autoimmune disease characterized by raised areas of abnormal skin. These areas are red, or purple on some people with darker skin, dry, itchy, and scaly. Psoriasis varies in severity from small, localized patches to complete body coverage. Psoriasis is generally thought to be a genetic disease that is triggered by environmental factors
I’ve followed all of the online advice – “Dr Google” – about topical treatments as well as longer term solutions. I’ve tried every hippie treatment possible, always avoiding the “tar based” treatments, because I thought the blah-blah-blah treatments would be better.
Tar based treatments for psoriasis
But then recently, as nothing seemed to be working, I decided to give “tar-based” treatments a go. And you know what? They appear to be working.
Coal tar comes from coal. It’s often used to make coal-tar pitch, which is used as a base for coatings and paint and in roofing and paving. But it can also be used to treat certain inflammatory skin conditions, such as eczema, psoriasis, and dandruff. When you have psoriasis, your skin cells turn over rapidly, which causes red, itchy, scaly patches. Coal tar helps slow these cells’ rapid growth to restore your skin’s smooth appearance. It can also help relieve the inflammation and itching that occurs with psoriasis.
Coal tar can work well to treat psoriasis, especially if it’s used in combination with other treatments. Some people see their psoriasis go away completely. Others go into remission, which means they go for a while without a flare-up of their psoriasis.
No single coal tar product is best for psoriasis. You can’t just assume that the higher its tar concentration, the better it is. In fact, studies have found that lotions containing just 1 percent of coal tar were more effective than those that contained 5 percent coal tar. It’s a good idea to ask your dermatologist to recommend a product.
I made a brief appearance on the radio this week to explain the different ways listeners to 702 ABC Sydney can experience their favourite regular shows as well as the cricket which often replaces these programs at this time of the year.
It was designed to be a “how to” guide, and nothing more complex than that. Hopefully, I didn’t sound too stupid, and helped a few people along the way.
Post Script
There was a followup appearance on Tony Delroy’s Nightlife on 30/11/12.
“Do you mind if I sit down for a moment?”, I asked the woman sitting by herself at a table. “My grand-daughter’s just gone off to get some food, as I can’t get around much. But you can stay until she comes back.”, she said.
We started chatting about our lives, as you do. And when I told her what I did for a living, she asked if I knew such and such. “Yes, very well”, I told her. She then went on to tell me her husband had taught him when he and his family were living in Tennant Creek.
In the media, it’s common to try to pinpoint people you may have worked with. And, generally when you meet someone from a country town, and tell them where you’re from, the conversation of “do you know such and such” inevitably springs up. “People in cities ask you what you do for a living, people in country towns ask you where you’re from”, I’ve often noted.
I don’t know how many times I’ve been to Mindill Beach Markets in Darwin, but it’s quite a few. They’re most memorable for their food, and their sunsets. They also sell a lot of stuff which I generally describe as “stuff you can buy, but stuff you don’t need”. Well, aside from food, and today I enjoyed some pickled octopus and some home made sorbet.
I sent my friend Sue a photograph of the pickled octopus, as she and I are great fans of it. She’s coming to visit for a few days, is then headed on a tour to Kakadu, returning next week for some Darwin Festival and Art Fair activities with me.
One of the great things about Mindill Beach Markets is how people leave the markets momentarily to watch the sun set into the ocean. Taking photographs is something everyone at the markets seems to do.Though today’s sunset was good, for me it was nowhere as spectacular as the last time I saw it, last year, at low tide. How great is this photograph?
But of course, I’m here for work, and yesterday I managed to combine a bit of work and outdoors activity. A good mate from Sydney (a work colleague) is also here, heading off to the major Indigenous gathering, Garma.
The Drum in Darwin
The team from ABC TV’s “The Drum” is also going to Garma, and yesterday, they broadcast their program from the Darwin Waterfront.
Watching ABC TV’s “The Drum” go to air live from Darwin.Though it was a great show, we were slightly distracted by this going on in the background. Looks like such fun. They did it for most of the hour. Awfully tempting to join them.
Sue wants to know if we can do the same thing while she’s here. :):)
