Saturday, May 14, 2005
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
One-thirty five am.
A lion in the hairdressing salon.
I'm walking home, but stop! There's a lion in the window of a hairdressing salon on Brunswick St, Fitzroy.
He looks like he's been there a long time.
But no less ferocious. No less proud.
At the bar, that dress looked like nice.
I should have told her.
I should have told her that hairdressers will do anything to attract a passing potential client, including placing a life sized concrete lion in the window.
But I didn't know that then. Like I know things now.
Little things like lions.
Big things like lions.
Love likes lions.
What are you doing here in the window?
How are you related to hairdressing?
I'll take your picture.
So at least you feel some purpose tonight.
You look like you've been waiting for your picture to be taken for hundreds of years.
Do the clients even notice you?
You look like you've been through some battles.
Yeah, that means you look great.
She looked great in that dress tonight.
No, she's not here now.
I know a couple who kiss every time they see a lion.
Yeah, every time!
No, they're not here tonight. They're a long way from here.
But it seems kind of cute. To do that. To do that anywhere.
No, I don't know if they've seen the Lion King.
I think they would have to watch it alone.
I know a girl who is obsessed by the Lion King though.
She knows all the songs by heart. And sings them in shower.
And she would melt your concrete heart my friend.
Like she melted my mine.
But she's a long way from here too.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
down to the basement
Don’t tell your friends
I left a note on the fridge
Under the pig shaped magnet
‘gone diving… don’t wait up’
I wrote a will and posted it to all the major radio stations
That shouldn’t frighten you
It’s not in case we die
It’s in case our eyes should change colour
before we return to the surface
Watch that step, take my hand
Come here my love
Tell me everything that didn’t happen to you today
while I turn out the lights
Remember to breath and exercise your right to punctuation
You don’t want to get the bends
I know it’s dark
but if we stay here long enough
we won’t need eyes anymore
Tell me one thing you love about me before we get any deeper
Okay, I’ll go first
I love the fact that you write notes to your self on the back of your hand
And then if you travel on public transport you insist on wearing gloves to keep your notes hidden from prying eyes
I see you now peering beneath the fold of your glove
MUST BUY MILK.
Now take another step
Are we another note? Written beneath the house?
In 1985 The Jesus & Mary Chain thought they had re-invented rock ‘n roll and that music would never be the same again. At least they can laugh about it now
Will we laugh about this?
In 1952 Englishman John Cobb tried to break the world water speed record in his specially constructed boat The Crusader across Loch Ness. He broke the record, but as he decelerated, something broke the surface of the lake and John Cobb was flung into oblivion forever
If we reach through the tiny basement windows tonight, will we stop the traffic?
Take another step my love, deeper
I know we’re not special, the space we fill now has been filled a thousand times before by lovers far better dressed than us
God doesn’t keep our photo is in his wallet
But snowflakes are overrated, even those lousy butterflies live longer than they do
And everybody knows God can’t swim
That’s why the creatures who live down the very bottom belong to us, not him
He never really wanted us to go in the water, that’s why he put sharks in there
Never leave the boat was the 11th commandment
So take another step my love. We’re almost at the bottom
Can you see your hand anymore?
Neither can I
That means we’re almost there
Written to the theme of Monster.
Written to the theme of Monster.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
This weekend I'll be participating in the Emerging Writers' Festival. I'll be reading at the session titled "By the Light of My Laptop - Bloggers and Zinesters Revealed." 7th May 4-5pm. Victoria Hotel, 215 Little Collins Street.
I'm also DJing at the opening to be held on Friday night. Which also features two fantastic writer/performers Philip Norton and Justin Heazlewood (AKA The Bedroom Philosopher.)
There's a lot of great sessions at the festival well worth checking out, some including my sometime collaborative partners, alicia sometimes and Emilie Zoey Baker. For a full program look here.
- Name a month after her, force it into all the calendars in the house. Surely she will appear during her own month?
- Sit in the dark, light a candle by your face and wait for her kisses to gather like moths.
- Cut off the heads of celebrity bodies in magazines and place her face over them instead. Then marvel at her new found fashion sense.
Mount Rushmoreinto all the blocks of cheese in the fridge. All the presidents have her face.
- Free yourself from this obsession by accepting that you already possess all that you will ever need and this senseless grasping is damaging to the soul… no wait, that’s crazy talk. Go back instead to ringing everybody in the phone book with the same name as hers. Just in case they’ve seen her around.
- Find a space, any space. Imagine you’re that shape. Like the space in the centre of a record. Go on, be that shape for a second. Does it feel cool? Does it feel existential? No? Okay, it was worth a shot.
- Don’t trust yourself. Videotape yourself sleeping, in case you’re getting up to no good while your consciousness is looking the other way.
- Turn up early at the Camberwell market carrying a powerful torch with all the other bargain hunters. Shine the torch into the stallholders faces and ask if they’ve seen a beautiful girl rummaging through their things. If they say no, shine the torch in their face again and ask, “bright enough for ya?”
- Get health insurance.