The door opened and four people spilled into the pizza shop. The televisions weren't on as usual, so the restaurant part of the shop was quieter than usual. A burly man wearing the high-visibility shirt and sturdy boots which denotes "blue collar" followed in the tumble of girls and curls who spilled in before him. Their prissy and fussy starkly contrasted with the utilitarian functionality of the man.
He asked the girls where they wanted to sit. They noisily chose a booth and proceeded to pile onto the banquette, opposite their father who looked as if he was attending a job interview. Quickly the girls were silenced by the compelling content of their electronic device. He studied the menu. All interaction between the opposite sides ceased. The middle girl would occasionally elbow the older and the younger to stop them crowding her as their hypnosis deepened.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"Where's mum?" they asked.
"She'll be here soon," he replied.
Is this a Friday night handover of children between divorced parents? I wondered.
"What do you want?"
"PIZZA!" they screamed.
Well, it's a pizza shop, so that's a pretty good pick.
I continued to wonder at the contrast between the man and his progeny. All these girls - so many of them! - with their giggles and glances and things - so many of them! - must be mysterious to such a man. How does he come to know and understand his daughters? Already they seem to wield power of the man.
A feeling of confused wonder surfaced. I'd had it before. I remember sitting on a train when a group of young women dressed for a night on the town all boarded the carriage together. The sounds, sights and smells were overwhelming. As a pack, they were intimidating. They had so many shoes and bags and nails; so much hair and earrings. They jangled and tinkled when they moved, providing the soundtrack to their overly loud voices and awful, false, self-conscious tittering. The wall of their perfume made them an impenetrable group.
I look at the father and think about how lonely it can be when you're on the outside of a group - even if it's one that you don't want to be part of.
*****
I'm doing some professional development next week as I embark on an Advanced Diploma of Group Dynamics. See you afterwards.
Showing posts with label observation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label observation. Show all posts
Sunday, 19 April 2015
Monday, 23 September 2013
Taking stock
Spring seems like a good time to take stock and I've been inspired by this list over at Meet me at Mike's.
Making : Socks
Cooking : silverbeet, feta and lentils
Drinking : tea with milk, no sugar
Reading: The Accursed by Joyce Carol Oates
Wanting: my knee to heel - NOW.
Looking: in my yarn stash
Playing: Bach on the piano
Wasting: nothing
Fixing: other people's mistakes
Deciding: on surgery
Wishing: I didn't have to
Enjoying: being able to dry sheets and towels on the clothesline
Waiting: for nothing.
Liking: my life
Wondering: if it will all be okay
Loving: my friends
Pondering: creativity
Considering: tax
Watching: Season 4 of Justified.
Hoping: client bookings will pick up soon
Marvelling: at how fast the year is going
Needing: friends
Smelling: Magnolia perfume
Wearing: pink
Following: the saga of the Australian Labor Party leadership
Noticing: grey hairs
Knowing: more will appear
Thinking: about why a particular person drives me up the wall
Feeling: that I should not let her drive me up the wall.
Admiring: Ella Fitzgerald's vocal quality
Buying: John Mayer's latest album, Paradise Valley
Getting: ready
Bookmarking: catch up TV for the new season of Survivor.
Opening: up
Giggling: frequently.
Feeling: blessed.
How are things with you?
Making : Socks
Cooking : silverbeet, feta and lentils
Drinking : tea with milk, no sugar
Reading: The Accursed by Joyce Carol Oates
Wanting: my knee to heel - NOW.
Looking: in my yarn stash
Playing: Bach on the piano
Wasting: nothing
Fixing: other people's mistakes
Deciding: on surgery
Wishing: I didn't have to
Enjoying: being able to dry sheets and towels on the clothesline
Waiting: for nothing.
Liking: my life
Wondering: if it will all be okay
Loving: my friends
Pondering: creativity
Considering: tax
Watching: Season 4 of Justified.
Hoping: client bookings will pick up soon
Marvelling: at how fast the year is going
Needing: friends
Smelling: Magnolia perfume
Wearing: pink
Following: the saga of the Australian Labor Party leadership
Noticing: grey hairs
Knowing: more will appear
Thinking: about why a particular person drives me up the wall
Feeling: that I should not let her drive me up the wall.
Admiring: Ella Fitzgerald's vocal quality
Buying: John Mayer's latest album, Paradise Valley
Getting: ready
Bookmarking: catch up TV for the new season of Survivor.
Opening: up
Giggling: frequently.
Feeling: blessed.
How are things with you?
Friday, 6 September 2013
My favourite things - this week
1. You may remember meeting Rose Wintergreen right here on divacultura. Rose crowd-funded her album and I was very happy, willing and privileged to be able to contribute. My favourite moment of week was reading about the release of her single, Feet in the Sand. You can read more and listen over on her blog. What do you think? I LOVE it! If you like it too, pass it on!
2. This morning I set aside time to write a first draft of a book chapter that I'm collaborating with several other people on. I'd had a few false starts in actually putting words down, but the ideas had been whirling around in my head for a while. I knew it was just a case of having a block of time and no distractions. I put Bach's cello suites played by Yo-Yo Ma on the stereo and pretty soon I had exceeded the word requirement. I know that it's a first draft and now the task of editing and blending with my collaborators has to occur, but it is always thrilling to see ideas come to life on the screen/page. There's the additional excitement of discovering new insights as fresh connections are made.
3. I managed to get tickets for Sunday's AFL final match between my team, Richmond, and Carlton. Technically my friend got the tickets and they came with the news that we would need to hire a sherpa, take oxygen and leave now to get to our seats at the Melbourne Cricket Ground in time to watch the match. I don't care! I'm so excited. Richmond hasn't played in the finals since 2001 and I've never been to a finals match at the MCG. I figure you just have to do it! As a consequence of actually going to the footy, I have had to put a hold on my lack of love for the colour yellow. Richmond's colours are yellow and black and I just can't go without sporting my team colours. I managed to snag the last ball of yarn in the perfect shade of yellow and figure I can knit a yellow and black beanie in time for Sunday's match.
4. My physio's declaration that it is possible for my knee to fully recover was definitely a good moment.. This made me very happy after struggling to zip my boots this morning. (The angles were all wrong.) Apparently my PCL (posterior cruciate ligament) has been stretched so far that it hasn't sprung back. It's like an elastic band that has stretched too far. Despite this, my physio is confident that with exercise and treatment it will regain its elasticity. (My physio contributed another favourite moment when we were discussing the soreness in my left arm which had probably resulted from the fall that injured my knee. The muscle I've hurt is called the "supraspinatus". I heard her tell me I'd hurt my "super bananas". I felt lucky. Imagine if it was my ordinary bananas!)
2. This morning I set aside time to write a first draft of a book chapter that I'm collaborating with several other people on. I'd had a few false starts in actually putting words down, but the ideas had been whirling around in my head for a while. I knew it was just a case of having a block of time and no distractions. I put Bach's cello suites played by Yo-Yo Ma on the stereo and pretty soon I had exceeded the word requirement. I know that it's a first draft and now the task of editing and blending with my collaborators has to occur, but it is always thrilling to see ideas come to life on the screen/page. There's the additional excitement of discovering new insights as fresh connections are made.
3. I managed to get tickets for Sunday's AFL final match between my team, Richmond, and Carlton. Technically my friend got the tickets and they came with the news that we would need to hire a sherpa, take oxygen and leave now to get to our seats at the Melbourne Cricket Ground in time to watch the match. I don't care! I'm so excited. Richmond hasn't played in the finals since 2001 and I've never been to a finals match at the MCG. I figure you just have to do it! As a consequence of actually going to the footy, I have had to put a hold on my lack of love for the colour yellow. Richmond's colours are yellow and black and I just can't go without sporting my team colours. I managed to snag the last ball of yarn in the perfect shade of yellow and figure I can knit a yellow and black beanie in time for Sunday's match.
4. My physio's declaration that it is possible for my knee to fully recover was definitely a good moment.. This made me very happy after struggling to zip my boots this morning. (The angles were all wrong.) Apparently my PCL (posterior cruciate ligament) has been stretched so far that it hasn't sprung back. It's like an elastic band that has stretched too far. Despite this, my physio is confident that with exercise and treatment it will regain its elasticity. (My physio contributed another favourite moment when we were discussing the soreness in my left arm which had probably resulted from the fall that injured my knee. The muscle I've hurt is called the "supraspinatus". I heard her tell me I'd hurt my "super bananas". I felt lucky. Imagine if it was my ordinary bananas!)
5.Waiting on platform 9 at Flinders Street Station today, I watched people on platform 10 running for the train. Human beings move in some mysterious way:. the squat woman, struggling with several bags, her body engaged in multi-directional undulation; the neat Asian man wearing a backpack shuffling, Cliff Young style - not very fast but certainly tidy; the confidence of the long-legged lunge of a besuited, bespectacled, bebearded man; the weirdly stiff-legged gait of the man in too-skinny jeans; the small pointless steps of the woman in stilettos running for her life to catch that train; the hopeful striving of the wannabe medalist, slowing and slumping as hope fades that he can make it before the doors shut.
What was your favourite thing this week?
Thursday, 15 August 2013
On approach to Alice Springs
A quick turnaround in Alice Springs en route to Darwin has turned into a four hour extravaganza. I'll miss the afternoon I had planned to reacquaint my skin with sun and my body with the hotel pool as I'll now arrive at dinner time instead of early afternoon. Ah well, this is not within my control so there is no point being anxious or angry.
Since last week's bag-falling-on-head incident, I have switched my seating preference from aisle to window and enjoyed the view as we flew over the heart of Australia.
It is a red heart, nothing but sand stretching on and on and on. Ten minutes later there may be a smattering of vegetation, small wiry clumps looking like the stubble on the chin of a dark haired man. Rocky outcrops appear. Some of them look like a partly submerged crocodile, the khaki-coloured lumpy spine curving to meet its head. Beyond the head I see a formation that looks like foot prints from a gigantic prehistoric bird.
The land changes again and I understand the paintings made by the Aboriginal people. Looking at the land below, I could be standing before one of their canvasses covered with dots and lines and concentric circles. Small sandy circles appear. Perhaps they are water holes. Without access to an aircraft I wonder how the Old People knew what the land looked like? A ribbon flows through, the centre of the bed tattooed by trees. I wonder if this river of sand once - still? - carries water.
I see no houses. I see the veins of dirt roads but no vehicles. There's the glint of the railway line, proudly declaring its straight, true lines in contrast to the deceptive softness of the harsh country.
The rocks change and I am reminded of drawing contour maps in grade 9 geography under Mrs Rosenthal's instruction. They have meaning now. Other memories of that class come to mind - learning about barchan sand dunes out in the long jump pit and writing out one hundred times that a wind is named according to the direction it comes FROM. (Of course I knew that the grammar was wrong, but this was geography, not English, and the formal "from whence it came" would be unwelcome as a piece of smart aleckry.) Patches of white stand out against the dark grey-green of the rocks - sand, salt or ash? I wonder.
We near Alice Springs. The vegetation thickens again. The road is bitumen and the markings are visible. I count four vehicles going about their business. The geometry of buildings contrast with the natural shapes. The township pulsates just ahead.
The plane's shadow is tiny on the ground and I have to look slightly backwards to see it. I know we are descending as this shadow grows larger, finally meeting its creator as we gently touch the tarmac.
Disembarking down the rear stairs and onto the tarmac, the warmth is welcome. It was 9 degrees Celsius when my cab picked me up from home this morning. It feels like a very pleasant mid-twenties with a very light breeze.
I will find a way to make the most of this delay.
Since last week's bag-falling-on-head incident, I have switched my seating preference from aisle to window and enjoyed the view as we flew over the heart of Australia.
It is a red heart, nothing but sand stretching on and on and on. Ten minutes later there may be a smattering of vegetation, small wiry clumps looking like the stubble on the chin of a dark haired man. Rocky outcrops appear. Some of them look like a partly submerged crocodile, the khaki-coloured lumpy spine curving to meet its head. Beyond the head I see a formation that looks like foot prints from a gigantic prehistoric bird.
The land changes again and I understand the paintings made by the Aboriginal people. Looking at the land below, I could be standing before one of their canvasses covered with dots and lines and concentric circles. Small sandy circles appear. Perhaps they are water holes. Without access to an aircraft I wonder how the Old People knew what the land looked like? A ribbon flows through, the centre of the bed tattooed by trees. I wonder if this river of sand once - still? - carries water.
I see no houses. I see the veins of dirt roads but no vehicles. There's the glint of the railway line, proudly declaring its straight, true lines in contrast to the deceptive softness of the harsh country.
The rocks change and I am reminded of drawing contour maps in grade 9 geography under Mrs Rosenthal's instruction. They have meaning now. Other memories of that class come to mind - learning about barchan sand dunes out in the long jump pit and writing out one hundred times that a wind is named according to the direction it comes FROM. (Of course I knew that the grammar was wrong, but this was geography, not English, and the formal "from whence it came" would be unwelcome as a piece of smart aleckry.) Patches of white stand out against the dark grey-green of the rocks - sand, salt or ash? I wonder.
We near Alice Springs. The vegetation thickens again. The road is bitumen and the markings are visible. I count four vehicles going about their business. The geometry of buildings contrast with the natural shapes. The township pulsates just ahead.
The plane's shadow is tiny on the ground and I have to look slightly backwards to see it. I know we are descending as this shadow grows larger, finally meeting its creator as we gently touch the tarmac.
Disembarking down the rear stairs and onto the tarmac, the warmth is welcome. It was 9 degrees Celsius when my cab picked me up from home this morning. It feels like a very pleasant mid-twenties with a very light breeze.
I will find a way to make the most of this delay.
 |
| Flying over the heart of Australia - view from 20F © divacultura 2013 |
 |
| Red sand, red sand, red sand © divacultura 2013 |
Monday, 29 July 2013
What raised my eyebrows today
Whenever anything happens in the British royal family, I expect there will be a wave of fervour that will cause most unexpected results.
I noticed a pattern on Ravelry offering instructions for me to knit my own Prince George, complete with Kate and Will. On further investigation I notice that I am behind as I missed the earlier offering enabling me to knit my own royal wedding!
One thing led to another and suddenly I'm on the Book Depository website discovering books with titles such as "Knit your own dog", Knit your own cat", "Knit and Purl pets", "Knit your own zombie", "Knit your own moustache".
There are lots of references to "knitting bibles". I had always assumed that the term "bible" used in this context meant a comprehensive guide to knitting. Now I'm not so sure. Perhaps it contains instructions to knit my own bible. This could either be an actual book or the characters in the bible.
How about this fanciful title: "Knit in a day for baby". This is clearly written by someone who doesn't actually have a baby. I don't have one, but I know enough to know that if I had one, I wouldn't have time to do anything in a day, let alone knit something. I think I would start the planning for the 21st birthday present early.
******
I walked past a promotional poster for a show at the Arts Centre and was surprised that a piece of advertising would have such a lukewarm tag line. I read: "This show is mildly entertaining!" Wow. Can't wait to see that one.
The exclamation mark seemed remarkably out of place!
I looked again.
It actually said that the show is "wildly entertaining!"
The punctuation now made sense.
*****
Another season of "Big Brother" is broadcasting on television right now. I feel the passage of time as I notice my lack of desire to have a look.
*****
An email from a friend who is currently in Edinburgh advised me that Melbourne's temperature today was actually 3 degrees warmer than the temperature over there. So much for summer. I gain a new understanding of why the Scottish woman at music camp that time had no idea what to do with a sarong.
I hope your week started well.
What raised your eyebrows today?
I noticed a pattern on Ravelry offering instructions for me to knit my own Prince George, complete with Kate and Will. On further investigation I notice that I am behind as I missed the earlier offering enabling me to knit my own royal wedding!
One thing led to another and suddenly I'm on the Book Depository website discovering books with titles such as "Knit your own dog", Knit your own cat", "Knit and Purl pets", "Knit your own zombie", "Knit your own moustache".
There are lots of references to "knitting bibles". I had always assumed that the term "bible" used in this context meant a comprehensive guide to knitting. Now I'm not so sure. Perhaps it contains instructions to knit my own bible. This could either be an actual book or the characters in the bible.
How about this fanciful title: "Knit in a day for baby". This is clearly written by someone who doesn't actually have a baby. I don't have one, but I know enough to know that if I had one, I wouldn't have time to do anything in a day, let alone knit something. I think I would start the planning for the 21st birthday present early.
******
I walked past a promotional poster for a show at the Arts Centre and was surprised that a piece of advertising would have such a lukewarm tag line. I read: "This show is mildly entertaining!" Wow. Can't wait to see that one.
The exclamation mark seemed remarkably out of place!
I looked again.
It actually said that the show is "wildly entertaining!"
The punctuation now made sense.
*****
Another season of "Big Brother" is broadcasting on television right now. I feel the passage of time as I notice my lack of desire to have a look.
*****
An email from a friend who is currently in Edinburgh advised me that Melbourne's temperature today was actually 3 degrees warmer than the temperature over there. So much for summer. I gain a new understanding of why the Scottish woman at music camp that time had no idea what to do with a sarong.
I hope your week started well.
What raised your eyebrows today?
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