I Liked You Better Before

Amazing how people can change so fast. Do they change? Or were they just that way to begin with and had you fooled. Oh god. I'm so confused.

I can definitely see that it can happen. I'm sure i'm the same way.

But. Wow. It's intense the way you can be surrounded, and seemingly safe in a group of lovely friends, only to find that in one fell swoop they can disappear.

The people you so recently thought you'd never be without, are gone from your life, probably as fast as they came, and they become just a fond or foolish memory.

Sigh.

I guess it's romantic in one sense, because it's almost an analogy for life itself, the way that everything is so fleeting. I guess one should just be happy with one's brief, but happy experiences, rather than long for more.

You know ...enjoy the now.

Well. If it makes any difference. It still makes me sad. Lost friends. I love you. I still think about you.

I still remember lying in bed smoking a funny cigarette with you with our legs on the wall.

I still laugh when I go past a pharmacy. Any pharmacy.

I still get teary when I hear Darlin' by The Beach Boys.

I get even more teary when I look at my bookshelf and see C.S. Lewis. - Remember you read it all in one go, in the car?

I think about dark restaurants in Crown St and remember a beautiful, intimate, expensive dinner that you paid for. I could have kissed you.

I unravel the photo you gave me, and it fills me with a happy sadness.

I look at my beautiful piano, and I learn to play songs that remind me of you. Of course, they're all the hard ones.

If you're about to disappear, do so for the right reasons. Don't change. I liked you better before. If you are already gone, know that you're actually not that far away. And you never will be.

You Are Free

Gluten Free

Dairy Free

Wheat Free

Heat Free

Yeast Free

Sugar Free

GMO Free

Egg Free

Guilt Free

Heavy, sinking feeling that burdens you Free

It's a diet that takes some looking into. Nope. It's not for the feint of heart, or feint of stomach. And i'm not preaching. Or recommending it. I'm just telling you because...that's what i do. Tell tales. And express my observations.

You can take what I say as gospel, or you can choose to be 'blog free'.

But, if you are keen to look into the things that you ingest on a regular basis, can i suggest the following website? It's so lovely. Have a tissue ready. Or better yet, a bib. Drooling will follow.

It's strange when you finally stop and take a look at who you really are, and what you're actually made of.

Of course i mean this metaphorically and literally, but for the latter, for me, it's made quite a life altering difference.

I guess it's not hard to take living for granted. Days go by. Weeks go by. Thoughts and emotions come, and they go. People come and go. Relationships and friendships, unfortunately, come and go.

And through it all, you're still the one thing that remains. If it's just this life, and believe me, i have no flipping idea what happens next, then why not try things that might be a little out of the ordinary.

If even just a new way of eating. Wearing your hair or make up differently. A forgotten language. A lost form of art. Helping someone less well off. A new way of thinking. A different approach to love.

Be just a little whacky. What can it hurt? Variety is supposed to be the spice of life. Perhaps it is. Perhaps it isn't. Maybe you can tell me? But maybe it's as simple as opening your eyes...

Whoo Knew?

So i've come over all zen.

I don't know if it's because i've taken to only eating raw food, or if it's because i'm older, wiser, and more neurotic than ever, but i seem to have come into my own.

I just am happier. And more accepting of, not only the things that happen to me, but to the things that happen around me too (damn, is that from AA? Not that i go, not that it's bad if you do...).

It's as if i've awoken after a lifetime of sleep, into a world that shows some semblance of sense.

And where there isn't sense, there is clarity.

It seems, to quote a dear friend of mine, 'Everything Is Going To Be Okay'...

And thank god. Because for a moment there, it looked as if things were actually going to turn into the primordial soup from whenst they came.

Shit. Maybe this is middle age?

Don't get me wrong. I'm still eccentric and foolish. I still wear my heart proudly on my sleeve, and have my laundry in plain view for all to see... but for the most part, i'm just good.

And no matter what spanners are thrown into my works (that sounds weird!), i know i'm standing tall and capable of deflecting them, or accepting them, however big or small.

If someone could only explain how to bottle this mastery, and share it with my dull, grumpy, angry, lousy fellow humans, we'd all be better off.

Do it. Get happy dammit. I promise, it feels really good...

Push. And Pull.

How do they do it.

Boys i mean. Just when you think you've got the smarts and can ween yourself off sparkly love interest, they turn around and do, or say something umm. Well. Something cute.

RRrrr. A holes..

I wish they had the same awkward lower hand that I have, that makes them constantly write, or say, the most dumbass, bumbling, unintelligent, stupidest, nonsensical crap. Oh. god. There i go again.

It's almost like i need some sort of finger muzzle. See. Now there's an idea worth marketing.

Anyway. Stupid boy that i love: Please don't be funny anymore.

Or smart.

Or good at stuff.

Don't text me the way you do, late at night.

Don't surprise me with lovely little treats.

Don't keep me hanging on.

Don't skype me songs i'll like.

Don't send me emails with cool words to learn.

Don't invite me to fun places you'll be.

Don't give me nice compliments.

Don't look at me with those coy, lovely eyes.

Just be mean. That way i can detest you with fervor, and enjoy knowing that you aren't worth the trouble.

But hang on...if you leave me without that delicious funny feeling, what on earth would there be left for me to write about ?

Maybe just don't leave me this way...

ATLAS sound

There i was. Working away. Minding my own business. All but content from having seen Deerhunter play the week before. Songs and Naked On The Vague supported the gig.

They were great.

When. There, in my inbox came the sentence.

Atlas Sound will play a secret gig at Black & Blue this Friday Night. Get. There. Early.

I did.

And yet, the line for people to get in went around the block and all the way up the street, and possibly further, but i was wearing high heels, and for the sake of writing it on my blog, didn't feel like seeing just how far.

Just like moses, however, a section close to the front opened up, and let me in...

Up the stairs, the atmosphere was so nice, with a very curious, musical, appreciative smattering of young hipsters leaning and laughing against the artful walls of the sweaty room. Some even smiled at me.

And Bradford began. Everyone stood. Quietly. And in awe. And then realised that no-one could see. And so one by one, like a whimsical mexican wave, the entire front section sat down.

I don't know why. But it was moving. How cool are people?

Anyway, the show proceeded, for quite some time. A couple of hours i expect went by. And it was phenomenal. It was all encompassing. And raw. And real.

And I feel so blessed to have been there to witness his musical prowess, and gutter humour.

You might like Atlas Sound. You might not. You might not even know who they are. Whatever. All i'm sayin is, i know a genius when i see one.

Don't Worry. You Look Nicer Than Everybody Else.

Like a light shining at the end of a long dark tunnel, Stephanie Downey is a godsend.

One part inconspicuous, and two parts amazing, the label, DRESS UP, is a hidden cult favourite amongst those in the know.

One of these lovely, loyal followers has taken it upon themselves to present Dress Up's SS10 collection on a recently launched website, THE BLACKMAIL.

Here is the full article and super imagery to boot.

Stephanie Downey has also created an exclusive selection of reworked garments for the FAT stores in Melbourne. I imagine these treasures will disappear before they even arrive. Aren't they lovely?

www.dressup.net.au

Gallery.

Gimmie Shelta

Rittenhouse - purveyors of all things fine, traditional and ever stylish have released their anticipated high summer 2010.

As you may well expect, it is an entire range of garments that one just can't live without. I'm not quite sure how every single season they manage to design so many pieces that i really have to have.

Interesting fact: Most of the Rittenhouse favourites i own, i have in all colour ways. That's embarrassing isn't it. Oh. And actually not really that interesting after all.

It's just that when they get worn so often, and appreciated like they do, i can't imagine how i'd cope if something happened to said garment.

Not that I lose things (except my mind on occasion. Ahem. Friday night. Anyone?).

But, you know... My Flower Print T Shirt might get thrown into the wash with my flatmate's long red jumpsuit for example. Disastrous.

Sigh. If just a stupendously covetable collection, season after season, isn't enough either, things just got even better.

Swim suits.

Sorry, i'd like to write more, but i'm too busy standing in the Warrior Pose getting the old thighs nice and tight so i can get one in every print / style.

But wait. There's more...

Rittenhouse have created an exclusive Summer beach Umbrella with Shelta. THE traditional, Australian made, cotton covered, wood poled beach umbrella. Since 1911. And it is a m a z i n g.

The print is the Lucia print, and is taken from the Rittenhouse archives.

There is a rather lovely feature on it in the most recent Doing Bird. And there is a beautifully written article on Canvas Magazine. In fact, all of Canvas is pretty spectacular.

www.rittenhouse.com.au

You, send me.

It's Summertime and the living is easy.

Okay. it's actually not. It's just about the middle of winter, but...

1. i'm completely inspired by this g l o r i o u s weather outside, and
2. i want to absorb this song into my every pore.

I want to be the song. If i could, i'd sprinkle it on my raw muesli of a morning. Or inject it into my veins.

Do you have a song like that?
I tell you, they come to me every other day, but this one's a stayer. You know. A song that you'd say 'if i ever get married, this'll be the down-the-isle number'.

Ohhhhh. It drives me to distraction. Isn't Sam Cooke stupendous?

Anyway, i just thought i'd share it with you. You've gotta feel how i'm feeling. It doesn't get any better than this, does it?

Download it. Burn it, copy it. Whatever. Play it on your morning walk, bike ride, drive to work.
One of these mornings you're gonna rise up singing...

Passer By, These Are Words

I always want to speak with you. At the end of every day, i could call you and ask after your day.

I would tell you my day was wonderful. And when you told me your day wasn't, i'd say "actually, mine wasn't that good."

Every so often i dream up ideas, and reasons to call. And then i get angry that you haven't called instead. So i don't call you. And i try to stay mad...for no good reason.

I like watching you appear on skype. Sometimes i play cool songs in case you're taking notice. I also like it when you write funny things to me and i laugh out loud. I wonder if you know when you write it, that it'll make me laugh out loud.

Do you know that i might meet someone else at any time and not want to speak to you anymore? Would it matter?

Anyway, i'd still know what was going on. Even though you travel for work all the time. Even though you have plenty of other friends. I'd still secretly wonder about you. And the what if's.

The end.

Pretty Telling I Suppose...

Dear All.

I love Samuel Hodge.

There.

I said it.

I've known it for a while. And at first I thought it was unrequited (like most of my loves). But now i know, the feelings are mutual.

I fought hard to make him all mine. He's big o/s you know. Not big, as in 6ft, bulging biceps. Big as in obsessive fan club, big.

Anyway.

Next Wednesday (from 6-8pm) you can catch a glimpse of Sam when he launches his most recent book, that has been kindly published by the remarkable Rainoff Books.

The book is called, "Pretty Telling I Suppose" and is 72 pages, Hardcover, Cloth Bound, Foil Stamped, Full colour and Offset with a foreward by Gert Jonkers.

Oh gosh. I need a cigarette.

The 'Temporary Bookstore' for which this shindig will take place, continues forth for 2 weeks, and will feature selected titles from cult favourite book publishers from around the world. You will find publications, magazines and records that are not currently available for purchase anywhere else in Australia.

Rainoff Curated Temporary Bookstore is at 25/114 Burton Street, Darlinghurst from July 1st 2009.

Incidentally, it happens to be my favourite shop front in Sydney.

Samuel. Congratulations. Don't forget about me when you're getting piggy backed around Paris and New York by slaves.

Remember who shone your shoes when you were a lowly pub dweller. Okay, maybe i didn't actually shine your shoes, but i would've asked someone to do that, if you'd asked...

And remember, true love means never having to pay for photos to go on my walls...

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Of course, I love The Selby. As predictable as I am, you should have figured it'd be on the top of my RSS list.

You should also know by now, i'm slow on the uptake. I like to discover things in my own time.

If something becomes a phenomenon, I turn up my nose and turn a blind eye. It's a habit. I'm not a snob, i promise. It's an involuntary reaction.

I don't think i got to rebel enough as a child, having been reared by wolves. I mean hippies. Our lines of communication were wide open and thus, nothing was ever hidden, and there was no opportunity for revolution.

And so, as an adult, my adolescence is only now kicking in. For months and months friends have been ranting about Vampires and Where The Wild Things Are and, well, you know...All those fads that seem to be widespread and growing vehemently like ivy.

And. I have a confession.

I spent yesterday evening holed up in the dark, watching half of season 1 of True Blood. And i liked it.

I don't know why. I mean, look. I watched it on my macbook, because I don't own a television, so it wasn't dynamic.

The acting, whilst hypnotic, isn't that great. And hell, it's about Vampires.

But i'm hooked.

I'm still in a little bit of shock. Oh god. I know. Delete my RSS if you're as appalled as I am. I understand. But do consider for a minute, how easy it is to become obsessed over things.

Go on. Admit it. A TV show. A t-shirt. A band. A website. A person. Another person... It can happen to you.

And that is why it's surreal and exponentially more exciting when two obsessions combine.

Here, my obsession for The Selby, and my obsession for the divine Natalie Wood mutated in one, blood sucking, feverishly grand hit.

Fangs for listening.

...Sorry. I couldn't help it.

Adoration

My friend, Jeff Burch.

Is a writer. Is a publisher. Is a photographer. Is a musician. Is an art director. Is a thinker. Is unusal. Is intelligent. Is moody. Is rather inspirational. Is wonderful. Is a good car mate.

Here are some of his pulchritudinous, artful pictures. They deserve to be shared with the world.

A Study In Feeling

I have my own particular sorrows, loves, delights; and you have yours.

But sorrow, gladness, yearning, hope, love, belong to all of us, in all times and in all places.

Music is the only means whereby we feel these emotions in their universality.