Then and Now

Much has stayed with me. It’s as if the ‘doing’ has etched new patterns, and set up new rhythms.

I’ve tracked down some more new live music experiences and, inspired by seeing Hugh LaIMG_0638urie and the Cotton Bottom Band I’m trying out some New Orleans Blues on the piano. My long suffering neighbours remain my only audience.

I can still be found walking by the waters and if anything have been even more stunned and surprised by their beauty. Particularly memorable, sheltering from sheeting rain in a stand of banksias at Cape Bailly National Park.  In the distance, the faint shape of the city skyline and a burst of flame from the Kurnell refineries, but right in front of me a wetland croaking with frogs, small birds flitting everywhere and black cockatoos wheeling overhead.

I’ll always be up fIMG_1805or a new cocktail concoction or a new ice cream flavour.

I think of my car with more affection than I did.

I grabbed a rare chance to wander the house and grounds of Art Deco Mahratta and coveted the wonderful clothes and hats at the Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries costume exhibition. I wore my first 1920s style hat. Probably another fashion faux par.

I find myself looking up more when I walk in the city, noticing the shape of things or just the textures of brick against glass.  I see steps out of the corner of my eye and have to follow them not knowing where they might lead, especially if they are sandstone worn by all the tread of history. I can’t resist cutting across a previously unexplored little park. I’ve taken detours through more Sydney suburbs and visited more galleries.

In August 2014 there was a 20th Anniversary Due South Convention in Toronto. I couldn’t get there but checking back in on Paul Gross discovered he had been awarded an Order of Canada for his service to theatre and the arts.

By sheer dumb luck I was walking past the State Theatre one morning, saw the words Dr Who World Tour up in lights and grabbed one of the last two tickets for another night of all things Dr Who.

IMG_1367The red earth of the Outback has drawn me there again.  Finally, on another trip shared with enthusiastic visitors from a range of countries I stood watching the changing colours of Uluru in the setting sun and walked through Kata Tjuta and the Macdonnell Ranges, saw more new creatures and sat with an Aboriginal woman and her grandson listening as she spoke of her coIMG_1444nnection to place.

 

 

I’ve taken my stand.

I’ve continued to follow the breadcrumb trails of curiosity. They still intersect in intriguing ways and lead me into the unknown.

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I’ve even taken the Kurri Kurri Kookaburras into my heart. Now, I consciously listen for them each morning as they laugh into the first light.
More than anything, I try to be better at noticing.

The photograph of the gum blossom reminds me of this. Having walked up from the glorious Erskine Creek in the Blue Mountains National Park we stopped for a bit at the Lookout for a grand view over the Nepean River stretched below. As we headed back to our cars I saw the blossom and snapped the photo quickly and almost thoughtlessly. It was only when I got home and took a closer look that I saw the ants doing laps in the nectar, the delicate strands of blossom at various stages of joyous unfurling and the sticky sweetness you can almost taste.

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Now..I rarely say

I’d never do that

because who knows..

I just might..