It's a long weekend. I love the feeling of signing off for three days in a row. Apparently we're celebrating the English Queen of Australia's birthday. I don't know what that means, but I'm very happy to have an extra day where I can wake up when I'm ready, instead of when the alarm goes off - which seems to be very early these days!
*****
Winter is setting in. It's not really cold yet, but I put some towels out on the line to dry today. They went out in the dark at 6:15 this morning. I took them off in the dark at 5:30 this evening and they weren't dry. They nearly were, but they weren't. This is my measure of the seasons.
*****
I'm watching the television show "Nashville" at the moment. It's a soap opera set in the Nashville music scene and has everything from the country music queen whose latest album hasn't really sold, the upcoming blond starlet who needs autotune to make her sound okay, the sexy, enigmatic cowboy/lead guitarist with a dark past and the two young hot things who accidentally start songwriting together. Add to this mix some local politics and financial corruption and you've got everything. I'm loving it.
The character of Scarlett is a gorgeous blonde girl who has been writing poems, but never considered herself a songwriter. Gunnar sets one of the poems to music and they smoulder as they sing together. They get a publishing deal and she speaks about songwriting at a dinner to welcome them to the fold.
She says that she has noticed that the more specific the image, the more universal the truth. YES! What a great summary of all kinds of writing.
I'm looking back at my songs and thinking about this idea.
*****
I'm thinking of going to the movies this weekend. On the list to see:
The Broken Circle Breakdown
Fading Gigolo
The Zero Theorem
Under the Skin
No blockbusters! What have you seen lately?
Showing posts with label weekend. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weekend. Show all posts
Friday, 6 June 2014
Sunday, 18 May 2014
Brisbane perspectives.
I'm sitting beside the Brisbane River enjoying the sunny view and a cafe latte. (Brisbane finally knows how to make them.) I'd forgotten how much brighter than Melbourne the mornings are. Sleeping past 7:30am without comprehensive blackout curtains, even in May, is an impossibility. So even though my breakfast date is not until 11am, I'm up, checked out and sitting by the river.
A favourite thing of mine is to visit markets and the Brisbane Riverside Markets were a huge sprawling cornucopia of handmade artisan wares. I expected to easily fill an hour and half but have been disappointed. Perhaps twenty stalls exist, some of them lovely, but most selling junk. Perhaps the online shopping revolution has hit here too.
The Story Bridge looks more serious by day. Its structure black and grim, contrasting with the clear blue sky and sparkling water. The river beneath is busy with traffic - ferris zigzagging from one side to another while cars cross the river above.
Just before 10am my phone tells me it's currently 22 degrees Celsius, yet a man sits at a nearby table wearing the strange combination of skimpy shorts, thongs and a polar fleece jacket. I'd forgotten the craving for seasons that one gets living somewhere like this. During the week, I saw women on their way to work defiantly wearing knee-high boots, scarves and coats. I watched them, dressed in a summer dress.
As I walked in this morning, the river was on my left and the skyscrapers loomed on the right, their footprints substantial, standing solidly, in contrast to the mercurial water opposite. They look so clean and impossible. It must be the space around them that makes them seem bigger than anything in Melbourne.
Three metres from where I sit, a white-haired woman has paid a woman with a matching hair-do to tell her fortune. Her husband has opened his wallet, handed over the cash - and his wife - and made himself scarce. The two women look like old friends meeting for coffee.
My weekend has been filled with friends and food. I love living in Melbourne but I do feel a tug whenever I come back to Brisbane!
How was your weekend?
A favourite thing of mine is to visit markets and the Brisbane Riverside Markets were a huge sprawling cornucopia of handmade artisan wares. I expected to easily fill an hour and half but have been disappointed. Perhaps twenty stalls exist, some of them lovely, but most selling junk. Perhaps the online shopping revolution has hit here too.
The Story Bridge looks more serious by day. Its structure black and grim, contrasting with the clear blue sky and sparkling water. The river beneath is busy with traffic - ferris zigzagging from one side to another while cars cross the river above.
Just before 10am my phone tells me it's currently 22 degrees Celsius, yet a man sits at a nearby table wearing the strange combination of skimpy shorts, thongs and a polar fleece jacket. I'd forgotten the craving for seasons that one gets living somewhere like this. During the week, I saw women on their way to work defiantly wearing knee-high boots, scarves and coats. I watched them, dressed in a summer dress.
As I walked in this morning, the river was on my left and the skyscrapers loomed on the right, their footprints substantial, standing solidly, in contrast to the mercurial water opposite. They look so clean and impossible. It must be the space around them that makes them seem bigger than anything in Melbourne.
Three metres from where I sit, a white-haired woman has paid a woman with a matching hair-do to tell her fortune. Her husband has opened his wallet, handed over the cash - and his wife - and made himself scarce. The two women look like old friends meeting for coffee.
My weekend has been filled with friends and food. I love living in Melbourne but I do feel a tug whenever I come back to Brisbane!
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| Refractions © 2014 divacultura |
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| Refractions II © 2014 divacultura |
How was your weekend?
Sunday, 4 May 2014
Cold season - excuse for TV marathon.
This weekend has been a write-off. I left the house once, today, in search of food and cold medication. I've got one of those really annoying head colds; the kind where your head feels full of fluid, your ears are itchy and every time you sneeze, it's both a relief and a violent act. It started with a sore throat yesterday. That's gone today, so hopefully I might feel reasonable by tomorrow morning.
So what is one to do when it's cold and wet outside and you're sick? Fire up the Blu-Ray player and surrender.
Yesterday started with The Master, starring Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Joaquin Phoenix and Amy Adams. It's apparently about the beginnings of Scientology. It's a curious film, with fine performances and a very slow pace. The slow pace suited the cotton wool in my head. I'm not sure I would have coped with the 144 minute duration otherwise.
Next came the first three episodes of The Americans, a television spy drama about Russian sleeper spies living in the US while Reagan was President. I was a bit non-plussed and was beginning to wonder whether I should abandon watching anything while ill.
Then I dusted off the Danish political drama, Borgen (Danish for "government") and was gripped from the very first moment. It's the story of a woman's rise to be Prime Minister after negotiating complex deals with coalition partners to lead a minority government. Sound familiar? I kept thinking about our former Prime Minister, Julia Gillard and wondered if she's seen it. I suppose it's a bit like a Danish version of The West Wing. (I had to swap my knitting for something I can do without watching or thinking, so I can read the subtitles.) I don't know why I waited so long.
Now, I'm waiting for The Voice to start and the latest dose of cold tablets to stop my nose running, the sneezing and the blocked ears.
Off to facilitate a leadership program tomorrow. Early to bed.
How are you?
So what is one to do when it's cold and wet outside and you're sick? Fire up the Blu-Ray player and surrender.
Yesterday started with The Master, starring Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Joaquin Phoenix and Amy Adams. It's apparently about the beginnings of Scientology. It's a curious film, with fine performances and a very slow pace. The slow pace suited the cotton wool in my head. I'm not sure I would have coped with the 144 minute duration otherwise.
Next came the first three episodes of The Americans, a television spy drama about Russian sleeper spies living in the US while Reagan was President. I was a bit non-plussed and was beginning to wonder whether I should abandon watching anything while ill.
Then I dusted off the Danish political drama, Borgen (Danish for "government") and was gripped from the very first moment. It's the story of a woman's rise to be Prime Minister after negotiating complex deals with coalition partners to lead a minority government. Sound familiar? I kept thinking about our former Prime Minister, Julia Gillard and wondered if she's seen it. I suppose it's a bit like a Danish version of The West Wing. (I had to swap my knitting for something I can do without watching or thinking, so I can read the subtitles.) I don't know why I waited so long.
Now, I'm waiting for The Voice to start and the latest dose of cold tablets to stop my nose running, the sneezing and the blocked ears.
Off to facilitate a leadership program tomorrow. Early to bed.
How are you?
Saturday, 2 March 2013
Weekend recovery from "Flight"
I had forgotten the blissful promise of an unstructured weekend ahead. Not because my weekends are usually structured, but because my working weeks are unconventional and unpredictable. Lately, business is booming and I'm actually working five days a week. I have no complaints about this, but when I went to bed last night exhausted and woke up this morning, two hours later than on any of the previous five days and without an alarm to prompt me, I was looking forward to the weekend. Until a couple of weeks ago, I would have had choir rehearsal to attend, but I recently left the group I was with and so there wasn't even the call of my beloved music.
Reading in bed is one of my pleasures. I do it every night before sleep, but rarely have the opportunity to do it in the morning. This morning I did. I could have stayed there all day, but the lure of blue skies and temperate weather (Melbourne in autumn!) was too strong to resist.
I walked to the village. Wandered around. Cashed a money order I had received. Sat waiting for the train, not really caring if it never came. Visited my favourite dress shop and found something to spend a loyalty voucher on. Then I decided to go to lock myself away and go to the movies.
"Flight", the film that saw Denzel Washington receive an Oscar nomination for best actor, was on and so I went.
It's quite extraordinary. The beginning of the film paints a picture of Captain Whip Whittaker on an ordinary working day. We see him prepare for the flight and imagine what it must be like to sit next to a co-pilot that we're meeting for the first time. There's rough weather. Things start to go wrong. The rest of the flight is one of the most evocative pieces of cinema that I've sat through. I felt like I was on the plane and felt the fear and stress of knowing that the plane was going to crash. Tears started to run down my cheeks. I couldn't breathe.
What's interesting is that the plane crash isn't really the point of the film. It's the story of a man's path to face what he is denying: that he is an alcoholic. The courage it takes to shepherd a diving plane to the ground with minimal loss of life is nothing compared to the courage required to recognise your own self destruction and betrayal of all the people who love you.
It was worth sacrificing some sunshine for this amazing experience. I highly recommend the film, but I hope they don't show it when I catch a flight in a couple of weeks.
As for the second day of this two day expanse, I have nothing to look forward to except the prospect of nothing in particular and anything I want.
What are you doing this weekend?
Reading in bed is one of my pleasures. I do it every night before sleep, but rarely have the opportunity to do it in the morning. This morning I did. I could have stayed there all day, but the lure of blue skies and temperate weather (Melbourne in autumn!) was too strong to resist.
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| Not a bad spot to wait for a train. Yarraville. ©divacultura 2013 |
"Flight", the film that saw Denzel Washington receive an Oscar nomination for best actor, was on and so I went.
It's quite extraordinary. The beginning of the film paints a picture of Captain Whip Whittaker on an ordinary working day. We see him prepare for the flight and imagine what it must be like to sit next to a co-pilot that we're meeting for the first time. There's rough weather. Things start to go wrong. The rest of the flight is one of the most evocative pieces of cinema that I've sat through. I felt like I was on the plane and felt the fear and stress of knowing that the plane was going to crash. Tears started to run down my cheeks. I couldn't breathe.
What's interesting is that the plane crash isn't really the point of the film. It's the story of a man's path to face what he is denying: that he is an alcoholic. The courage it takes to shepherd a diving plane to the ground with minimal loss of life is nothing compared to the courage required to recognise your own self destruction and betrayal of all the people who love you.
It was worth sacrificing some sunshine for this amazing experience. I highly recommend the film, but I hope they don't show it when I catch a flight in a couple of weeks.
As for the second day of this two day expanse, I have nothing to look forward to except the prospect of nothing in particular and anything I want.
What are you doing this weekend?
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