Category: Observations
-
A lullaby by Robert Louis Stevenson, circa 1875.
While deleting spam emails this afternoon, I fell upon an eDM from a hidden gem in NYC that sells magazines of revered photography and design from every era between here and the 17th century. I once spent an accidental fortune (USD to AUD math) on five, or so, magazines and books about 1960s,70s home designs;…
-
January ‘22: a few sensory reflections
Listening to: ‘Camille 2000’ soundtrack by Piero Piccioni — the score to a promiscuous film produced and directed by Radley Metzger as a comment on the inertia and corrupt decadence of high society, stamped in the late 60s, based on a 17th-century novel, La Dame aux Camélias. Life Magazine described the work as “healthily erotic”.…
-
What is The Celestine Prophecy?
My dear friend Liv tells me that in the mid 90s every second person in cafes through Little Collins had James Redfield’s novel, The Celestine Prophecy, in hand. Now, 28 years after its release, the nine key insights that line the plot still illuminate young and old. This copy was picked up at Elizabeths second…
-
The need for silence.
Noise is first and foremost a sound, by definition, yet here in the 21st century a case could be made that noise is also perpetuated in image, moving and still. In the 20s, noise could be redefined as a persistent and endless vie for ones attention through digital stimulus. It is an extension of our…
-
Goodbye Joan.
There’s a tattoo on my middle back of a Californian horizon, rugged edges of a mountain in a desert with a single mid-century era chair, facing out toward the sun. The disjointed image is a memory of a place I love and an ode to a life I believe to have lived, another time ago.…
-
Grief.
Yesterday by the shoreline of South Fremantle I closed the book that had introduced me to the many manifestations of grief. It seems naive to only enter such a state at 28 but until this year life had other methods of heartache, and death of a close family member was not yet one of them.…
-
The absurdity of life.
In Albert Camus’ essay, ‘The Myth of Sisyphus’ he wrote “the world evades us because it becomes itself again”. Of the absurdity of life, he reasons that our “extreme consciousness” justifies thought. Why else do we consider life and our place in it, other than the pure magic of the ability to think, to contemplate?…
Life in the Slow Lane 