Sunday, February 7, 2010

A pretty good year


I thought about the wonderful time I have had, things I felt and perceived, strange subtle and wonderful moments alone. I walked along Grattan to the tram stop, virtually deserted. It was a bit cold, I wore my long orange skirt and blue fabric shoulder bag. It was beautiful, warm yellow street light, deserted street, sihouettes of trees against the sky, it was night, but not black night, and the trees seem bigger and more alive in the dark- like giants. The place was transformed by night, it was magical, it doesn't look like uni. The espresso bar in Alan gilbert building looks so nice in the dark. I got to Swanston, it was swimming in street light.
Got home at 12.


terra firma
a momentary relief from perceived drowning

in the Herald sun- burnt victim in ash Wednesday- 'it's common to feel sorry for yourself. life goes on, whether you choose to be in it or not'.


My memories are made of still frames
Rain drops in their slanting demise across the window pane
Twigs against new blue sky after the rain
tentative sunlight

and for the first time in my life I dream of having a garden
lush green and eye-pleasing
where I lie among the daisies dandelions, butter cups and look at the sky


Sunday: car pooling to Shepparton with P and C. On the way bare trees, growing neat as if planted, burnt black, sombre and beautiful, like a European forest in winter, the only difference is, you know these trees are dead, people have vanished, the bushfires had swept through here.

Stopped for lunch- chips- in Kilmore. I'm constantly reminded how much light there is here in the country. Kilmore is small, but there is a sense of spaciousness, a couple of bakeries with tables for patrons, quaint shops. The fish-n-chips shop was fairly large.
Roon in Shepp- quite roomy, over looking a construction sites, they are building more pods for the allied health students.

i feel alright. with me.
i feel my heart breaking into pieces. A sadness so profound it seems surreal and i somehow enjoy it. it makes me feel real. it makes me feel alive


Autumn oasis

Montsalvat in autumn- took photos with D. The building is like a little French chateaux, surrounded by trees in full autumnal colours. It would be nice to have a wedding here. Garden cascades downhill, views of hills and endless trees in sight. So much space. So many crunchy autumn leaves under feet. Beautiful arbours. I could spend an infinite amount of time here.

Used D's 50mm/f1.2 lens- a wonderful little thing- gives very narrow depth of field, photos from the D60. Finally, the autumn photos I've always wanted to take. It was a special moment, looking at the viewfinder, i haven't had that feeling in so long- a sudden surge of joy and happiness that come from looking at crisp new images- looking at things for the first time through a new (excellent) lens.

Highlight of the day was sitting near the pool talking to D. Dirty pool, but the water was a shade of blue that i like. Sound of water flowing into the pool. Moment of immense calmness, of being completely at peace. There is something very special about him- very soft, gentle, tender.


That atmosphere of the nursing home. The smell- a combination of old people, uncleaned body, stagnant air. The lack of bright colours. Ba` on her little bed. And suddenly, you realize, there are very few things in life that really matter.


funeral today. in the chrysler on the way to Fawkner crematorium, I saw a cloud with a beautiful silver lining.

Mum was the saddest. I tried not to feel attached. Because when I do, I cry.

moments like this help put things into perspective. You're not here forever. You're not here to have a good time. Everything is ephermeral. everything.

long fingers, sky written messages, descending escalators, stripey socks... my mind is rewinding things... i wish i could have an infinite amount of all that :)

the light was splendid when i caught the train back from clayton. large grey nimbuses looming overhead, while light from the setting sun instantaneously gilded anything metallic in its path, lit up dull concrete walls and building facades, and instead of an ordinary evening you get something quite extraordinary- blades of grass and wild yellow flowers back lit in a pool of soft warm honey coloured light... it's one of those moments you're spontaneously blessed with, just like that black cloud with a silver lining i saw last week. I crave moments like this... and like moonlight and stardust, it's something that money can't buy.

brown rice with sesame oil
grey beach whale shirt
hugging K. on the couch
sometimes happiness is as subtle as a mocha kiss.


Exams are over.
Deja-vue. the sheer panic. loss of appetite.

Monday Tuesday Wednesday. OSCE, case pres, treatment planning. very hot days. lost ortho retainer, had to get a new one. more panicking.
then Warrnambool. a very long drive. mist at the sea at midday, suddenly came, suddenly went, could not see things that's further than 20metres. pier dissappearing in mist. ppl on the beach vanishing into the mist. a most wonderful thing to see.
afternoon- a few hours under a bridge, next a beautiful inlet. spoke to an artist drawing in guache. warrnambool is very anglo he said.

came across the undergraduate handbook.
5 years ago, holding that book in the old lecture theatre at the old hospital, extremely excited, wondering what the future will hold.
it's been quite a journey.


this love

this love defies everything i know of. no cliches. brimming with moments that are nothing short of magical. cold hands as you said 'stardust'- the word as fascinating as the objects you refer them to. bunny rabbits darting between shrubs by the river. a sudden breeze through the tent- a space that is completely of our own, one step outside and you're on lush green grass

love is not like fireworks, because fireworks only last for a moment or two. love feels warm and tingly like a cup of hot tea on a cold night, tight hugs, feeling the bones on your back or running fingers through your hair, randomly magical like rewound double exposures

when the night is clear and you can see stardust. when rain puddles, glistening streets and umbrellas make the city instantaneously pretty. when big waves appear in chaotic waters. you make me feel more appreciative of these little things. one day i'll look at these photos and remember how much just how much i love you

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