The View From Down Here

Ashley

Ashley

This is  really sad. Scary too on a number of levels. Personally and globally. But I'm torn. I think.

At one level, I have some small sympathy for the parents. It must be hard to see your child, help her, know her as your own, but otherwise be unable to engage with her at a meaningful level save for smiles and such. There may be an element of the protective there. Certainly a read of the anonymous entry by her parents  would suggest as much.

Garden Island

This was the view that greeted me last night parked within spitting distance of the Coat-hanger, the Sydney Harbour Bridge. New Years Eve 2006/07.

Considering that the day before I had no real plans, nor any real drive to get any, I did pretty well! A generally unobstructed waterfront view. Very civilised company. An education in "big bolts" Navy style.

This was a ticketed event; based on a ballot open to a huge staff of some description. Our hosts were given 10 tickets. There was a total of 8000 bods on the Island, and we got grass, which was ideal and rather scarce in an otherwise heavily concreted. I was simply a friend of a former colleague of the wife  of the ballot  winner.  It was an honour.

Unforgettable to watch the lights doing their thing in a dramatic, but not prosaic display of pyrotechnical brilliance. I think the current LM has her stamp on it finally. They do say diamonds are a girl's best friend. Maybe the illuminated diamond hanging above street level, was key to the tone.

The tall ships did their thing; green and gold lit, in slow progression. Most pretty.

For me personally, a peace descended. Much like at other times in my life that had elements of the stressful. It descended earlish and was just what the doctor ordered. I had fun. Much fun. Just being. My hosts were lovely- I had leveling difficulties and so was perhaps not as broadly social as might have been. I have regrets there. but not for me. No worries. Too late now   

The taxi ride had its issues, many to be expected, some unique. Around the sort of things that happen when people make assumptions about you, or claim advantages because they have "seen" you. That's what you get for traveling in a limited fleet for so many years.

I could get philosophical here. Maybe not.

Starts

A friend I have (Church) has been keeping paper journal since she was 8. She is now 27. I've tried and failed, both in paper form and online. I was ok at it and then I think the job resulted in the loss of weekends for long enough for me to lose the drive. There were also I think other factors
too. No matter.

I like the concept. I like "musing". I like the concept of a legacy, current or future. I enjoy the results of writing and usually the process  or elements of it at least.

I want to be more observant. Of people places and things, including myself. I can sense myself getting older but not collecting the corresponding wisdom. I need to be a bit more historical about recording and tracking my activities and thoughts. I've caught myself forgetting experiences I was aiming to remember, and hating that.

So here is one of my memory catches.

cold wet muse on a slice of jazz

It's been a perfect home bod day today. I had intended to do a lot of things all but one of these remain undone. With the exception of going to the see "an inconvenient truth" movie, I have no real regrets with that. I will go tomorrow after work.

It's been cool and wet and I haven't moved from out from under the doona. Perfect place to recover from the cold that has hung around for 10 days already.

I've realised only today that I miss having a television or blogging, Not both but I think you need one or the other to stay in the loop. The fact that the election in the United States  is happening on Tuesday, for example, had been only loosely in my head. Now it is here and I have no idea who is standing. 

Actually that describes my head pretty well these days. A lot of half thought  thoughts floating  on the edges;  some clearly  mundane  and unimportant  but fascinating  like the  moth  light  phenomena, some just pleasant distractions, at worst are the others circling dark clouds I either am actively avoiding or are out of my control but within the effect range.

Perhaps this will help that. 

Untitled

I was sitting in a cafe, down the quiet colder side of the main street of my village, in this the city of villages.

This is not my regular coffee shop, which as we speak has been over run by weekend villagers. The true upwardly mobile folks who like to venture to the inner west coffee shops and vintage clothing crevices. Weekends are busy with prams and trendy folks. This being labour day weekend simply added another day to my game of dodgems.

This one is the latest of several incarnations complete with citrusy walls and goth -coloured but friendly folks and decent coffee. They have re-opened the courtyard I sat in with friends in my days as a student, the closing of which so grave a crime as to warrant the removal of my custom.

In comparison to the "usual" the people watching fodder was reduced, but that was fine. I was alone in my thoughts which did their usual butterfly motions of flitting around everything from work to a party I will be throwing <in my own honour