Walking home tonight, I stumbled upon some hidden gems: “laneway art” tucked away at the back of my apartment building. It’s a rare find these days; ever since the City of Sydney increased their council pickups, our laneway has been often free of “discarded” items.
At first glance in the dark, the art didn’t particularly grab my attention. As an art collector, I’m surrounded by pieces worth a considerable amount, so my standards are admittedly high. But something about these works intrigued me. Their raw, authentic style was refreshing, and the absence of signatures suggested they were discarded by the artist themselves.
The first piece I couldn’t resist was the woman with the dog. Five minutes later, I found myself back downstairs, drawn to the piece featuring cows and tractors.
Who knows? Maybe I’ve found some art in the backway worth thousands of dollars? Or maybe they’re just some lovely leftovers from people, like me, with a passion for art?
Surprisingly, these unexpected additions complement the “professional art” on my walls. They add a touch of whimsy and personality, prompting me to reconsider my current arrangement. Perhaps it’s time for a change. That’s the beauty of collecting art; the ability to focus on different pieces and rearrange them as your mood or tastes evolve.
Conscious that I sometimes share material on other platforms that never makes “the cut” here on my blog, I will start sharing a few bits and pieces here also. These are the tweets, posts, and observations that still seem relevant at the end of each month. Lots of ephemera, but hopefully still quite entertaining.
November 1 : Have booked flights home to Lismore (Ballina/Byron) for Christmas. The most expensive in living memory I’ve paid for a flight home ($300 – no additional luggage, but included preferred seats). If you’re thinking of flights for Christmas, don’t leave it too late.November 3 : Called in to my local pub, The Shakespeare for a cheap steak for lunch, and then realised I was seated at Laurie’s Table. Apparently he sat at this table for over fifty nine years. I’ve got some catching up to do.November 3 : Going through some archive material and found the Wagga Wagga float from Mardi Gras 1994. Some people didn’t want to be identified on TV, so they donned Michael McCormack masks. At the time, he was the local newspaper editor and writing some very anti-LGBTQI editorials.
November 3 : Ahead of my NBN installation, I dragged out my old “home phone” tonight. Still, I did messenger video calls with friends tonight. I should just divert the number to my mobile, right?
November 4 : A friend of mine snapped this. Apparently they changed it very quickly.
November 4 : Amanda Vanstone made me laugh with her comment “”The sad thing, I think, is that we have got two guys standing as president, probably both of whom would have to do a test to get a driver’s licence in Australia,” (About ABC TV’s US Election Coverage)
November 8November 9 : From Sharron : “Happy Birthday James O’Brien love you to the moon and back. Have a great day xx@November 10 : Biscuit, the collectively owned cat in our apartment block sits patiently next to… the rat traps.
November 10 : OMG, have only just discovered this awesome video from Lena Philipsson – Stockholm (Officiell Video)November 10 : Since Anne Ruston is in the news, I thought I’d share this memory of when I used to work with her mum. Her mum was once a presenter at ABC Riverland in Renmark.November 11 : Last night I attended a fantastic story-telling, photography, community event in Surry Hills (only 50 metres from home in a laneway I walk through two or three times per day), combining the talents of @surryhillsandvalleys and @village_voices Really wonderful evening.
November 14 : There’s a thread about celebrity lookalikes, so I’m sharing mine. @TheRickWilson Much relief, as it used to be Kevin Spacey.
November 16 : Though it’s only mid-November, that hasn’t stopped Christmas decorations appearing on Crown Street, Surry Hills. This is the window from Sky Sirens, which is “The Academy of Burlesque, Pole Dance and Aerial Atristry.”
November 19 : I wanted to reply to some colleagues at work with an image of Dorrie Evans from Number 96 with the comment, “Herbert, why wasn’t I told”. But then I realised one of them was born after Pat McDonald died. I thought I’d save myself the embarassment by sharing here.
November 20 : The pic doing the rounds of Rudy Giuliani reminds me of the final scene from the 1971 film, “Death In Venice”.
November 23 : Fine workmanship.
November 25 : Oh my. The ATM has gone crazy tonight.
November 25 : Since connecting to the NBN, I have a home phone again. In the week since installation, I’ve had one family call, and every other call (maybe 10) has been a scam call. My number is unlisted, but clearly someone has had it before.
November 27 : Why I love my neighbourhood.
November 27 : Have any journos done the Santa Photos story yet? It’s almost December. COVID-19 distancing with Santa. Need to book photos, and most bookings are full, I hear. Photoshop an option? Lots of parents doing it themselves. A good story, and good talkback.
November 28 : I won’t complain since I have a fan to keep me cool, but if it’s this hot in Surry Hills, goodness knows what it’s like in some of the places I’ve lived previously. Wagga. Bourke. Renmark etc…
November 28 : Enjoying The Reagans | OFFICIAL TRAILER | The doumentary is good. Episode 2 calls out the racist dog-whistling by Reagan, and which is also evident with Trump. The narrative so far is that Reagan wasn’t all that bright and Nancy was the brains behind it all. It’s worth looking at. Features Ron Junior (sounds like Don Junior), and Kitty Kelley amongst others.
November 28 : This is a compelling and, at times, upsetting, but beautifully made slideshow of flood photographs from the history of my hometown, Lismore. James O’Brien and Lena Noonan moved from the South Coast (Bega) to Lismore in 1908, and mostly lived in North & South Lismore. This is where most of my family continues to live, so they all know what floods are like. I once remember my dad mentioning that his sister-in-law, my Aunty Eileen (an Aboriginal woman, so her history of the area goes back thousands of years) once mentioned a flood that went over the Cathedral Hill. I can’t begin to imagine… Anyway, anyone with a connection to Lismore, this is worth a look.
Either the flight from Tokyo to Stockholm (with a layover in Frankfurt) felt endless, or the wait for our luggage at Arlanda Airport seemed to drag on forever. I can’t recall ever waiting thirty minutes for the baggage carousels to start moving here. Even the typically patient Swedes, who usually don’t mind queuing, looked a bit exasperated. When my luggage finally appeared, I made a snap decision: I’d splurge on the high-speed train instead of taking the cheaper, but still efficient, airport bus. After nearly fifteen hours of travel, I was desperate to check into my hotel, shower, maybe enjoy a beer, and then collapse into bed.
The view at 3.00am from Stockholm’s Hilton Hotel
Further frustrations awaited. A Spanish-speaking family struggled to navigate the Arlanda Express ticket machine, and an older American couple fumbled with purchasing a travel card, unsure of their needs and armed with multiple malfunctioning credit cards. “If you’re unprepared, step aside,” I might have muttered under my breath.
One of my favourite places in Stockholm, Katarinahissen.
Finally reaching the hotel around 7pm, I settled into the Hilton for a couple of nights. Although I’ll be spending most of my time in Stockholm at a cozy AirBnB, I decided to indulge in a few creature comforts after the long journey. As you can see from the photos, the views of central Stockholm are breathtaking, and the bed is possibly the most comfortable I’ve ever slept in.
After watching the sunset over Lake Mälaren, I retired around 9:30 or 10:00, keeping in mind I’d been traveling since midnight Stockholm time. Waking at 3:00am, I was greeted by the lingering hues of sunrise painting the city in beautiful colors. A few hours later, I’m fully rested, well-fed from a delicious breakfast, and equipped with a Swedish SIM card. I feel ready to embrace this next phase of my holiday.
Sunset at about 9.20pm in Stockholm, as viewed from the Hilton Hotel
“I’ve been there in Iceland when it was like that”, I whispered in the ear of my friend as we watched the film, “A White, White Day”. “You were there in winter, weren’t you?”, she asked to which I replied, “No it was summer. But there were still four seasons in the one day”.
A bus trip in Iceland. When we started out, it was a bright, sunny day. By the end of our trip thirty minutes later, there was a blizzard.
Some of the earliest scenes in the film show people driving along remote roads in Iceland, where the line between the land and the sky blur. It’s all white, it’s all grey.
The only other time I’d experienced something similar was visiting the West Coast of Sweden.
Those road trips are pivotal to the film, as that’s where one of the lead characters comes to an untimely death.
There was an interesting parralel between this film, and the last film I’d seen, “Bellbird”. In both cases, the death of the wife and mother brings about re-evaluation by those left behind, and a series of relationship changes. However, the gentle evolution of relationships found in “Bellbird” is contrasted with the drama of the experiences of those in “A White, White Day”.
There were times when I had to look away. There were some moments of uncomfortable violence. There were moments when you thought the film would go into a much deeper, darker space.
Though “slow” for a while, the film picks up pace towards the end. On top of the cinematography (which is beautiful), the acting and direction are wonderful. In particular, there’s a standout performance by a young actor in the role of the grand-daughter. “Could she look any more Icelandic?”, my friend whispered, referring to her blonde hair and blue eyes.
Despite the darker moments, it was a really enjoyable film, and once which my friend and I both enjoyed. We were both looking forward to the film very much, as we had previously seen the film “Hrutar” / “Rams”, also from Iceland, and also from the same director.
“They punch above their weight”, my friend commented about Icelandic culture more generally. In movies, in music and culture, Iceland has produced some amazing material in recent years.
If I was back in Sydney, it would have been easy. In Surry Hills, I’m surrounded by bottle shops which are open every day (except Good Friday and Christmas Day) and which trade right up until midnight. If I was home and going to a dinner party, I would have simply picked up a bottle of something on the way there. But in Sweden, you don’t have that option.
In Sweden, there’s a government-owned monopoly bottle shop chain called Systembolaget, which operates with restricted hours. On weekdays, it’s normal trading hours; shorter hours on Saturday; and they’re closed Sunday. At night, bars also have limited trading hours with many closing at one, others at three.
And as much as I like to think of myself as a bit of a libertarian, I’m beginning to conclude these restrictions might actually be a good thing. By putting a limit on the hours in which you can purchase and consume alcohol, I think there’s more of a chance that people will go home to bed, as opposed to the all-night temptation offered in Sydney.
Although Systembolaget now operates like a supermarket chain, it wasn’t so long ago that you had to go in, make an order for what you wanted, and then wait for someone to bring your order out to you. There’s a few of these older style shops still around, apparently.
As it’s been explained to me, Swedes like a drink as much as Australians do (maybe moreso), and this is how they’ve reacted to their problem with alcohol.
Still it was a little unexpected for me to walk into Systembolaget in the hour before it was due to close (ahead of being closed all day Sunday) and see the lengthy queues. “Is this the Swedish version of the six o’clock swill?”, I thought to myself.
All of that said, I still like the way it operates in Sydney, being able to pick up a bottle of wine on my way to the dinner party, and not having to think about it.
Saturday night in Medborgarplatsen
Dinner was with Sandra and Robert, and their friends Roger and Nikki. Roger has commented on my blog on a number of occasions, and so it was really lovely to meet him in real life. They’re a really lovely couple, and although I knew they were both passionate about music (based on comments Roger had made), that passion really became evident over dinner.
Both Sandra and I made the comment later in the evening that it’s beginning to feel like I “live” here. Although I’ve done a lot of touristy things on this trip, my time in Stockholm hasn’t been focussed so much on trips, museums, and the like. I’ve been leading a fairly “normal” kind of life, getting up, reading the paper, going out for coffee and so on. Funny, I should be feeling this way with just a few days left.
As I made my way home to where I’m staying in Medborgarplatsen, there were more queues. This time, it was people lining up for a bit of late night sustenance.
