Thursday, November 18, 2010

Ominous clouds

^ Had a moment of boredom and was mucking around with effects and stuff in iPhoto. Prior to this, it was a photo from Catherine Hill Bay yesterday *lol*

This photo can be purchased from RedBubble here.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Tuesday, November 09, 2010

The passionfruit flower

This photo can be purchased from RedBubble here.

Hosier Lane, Melbourne

Photos can be purchased from RedBubble here.

I don't usually feel like I can talk about Melbourne. From friends who live down there, it results in, "MOVE BACK DOWN NOOOOOW!" and from friends and family up here, it's sort of like, "Well if it's so great down there, why don't you move back!" Which is somewhat awkward both ways, mainly because I don't have a job down there. Otherwise, I'd be ecstatic to be back down there. But I need a job for it. An income is useful for things like rent, food, transport, etc.

Visiting Melbourne recently w/ Clare and catching up with loads of friends, seeing the galleries, knowing my way around, going to Vegie Hut in Box Hill, exploring the BrandSmart DFO at Nunawading again (oh Oroton, I could not resist you, and your 50% off sale was brilliant! Plus the new design for the store is really nice), etc just made me miss it more. The little laneways and cafes and tasty, tasty things. Oh so good. And the way it feels so much more easily accessible than either Sydney or Newcastle.

Plus I don't mind the hipsters. It's like the emo thing a few years ago down there. It's just fashion, it's kind of amusing in a way and the moustaches make me laugh (especially on the girls... No, I jest there). That's one of the biggest differences between Sydney and Melbourne, really. Melbourne = hipsters. Sydney = people the colour of Cheezles in minimal clothing. People in Melbourne stared at me on the train when I wore knee-length shorts like it was all escandaloso! (it was also about 18 degrees that day and some people were wearing jackets and scarves, so maybe that's part of it). Sydney gets none of that when other people are wearing what looks like denim underwear, so that's kinda handy. The less escandaloso! stares the better, unless I find that t-shirt I got from Supre years ago that says "Hold my drink while I snog your boyfriend."

Admittedly, there was an element of it being rather "the past is another country," at least early on. But the past isn't really another country. You can go back to other countries, and even if it's different it's still the same. It's more like something that becomes eternally locked away and trying to make it happen again for the things you enjoyed about it fails. And when that fails, it makes the other memories of the past less pleasant somehow, less magical, more, "Was this how it actually was all along?"

Yet in the end, that worked itself out to be a positive because the friend that related to led to me being able to spend more time catching up with another friend. That was fantastic! Plus more exploration of Melbourne, a really great restaurant for dinner and the tastiest pasta dish I've had in years. I love pasta! Plus brunch the next day and miscellaneous other adventures with friends. It was so good.

Plus there was the afternoon spent in the NGV when the rain was absolutely hammering down outside. I saw Jon Cattapan's The Melbourne Panels, which is an artwork I really adore. It's like fragments and the whole, the part and its entirety, pieces and completeness. The unity of the individual elements is so well executed, plus there's the bold colours, streams of light, the freeness of it all. It's what I'd like to achieve with painting, but I feel like I get too hung up on the details, working on making it look absolutely like the original rather than the idea of it.

The Lace in Fashion exhibit was small but vastly satisfying, too. The photography thing about cities was slightly underwhelming. Although seeing the one single Gursky on display made up for it (it was his photo of LA at night). Still, it was all soul-refreshing to see.

Well, apart from one point when I was sitting in a quiet gallery admiring some paintings and a group came in led by a lady who talked so loudly you could hear her on the other side of Dartmoor (and her group of loudly-speaking oldies were pretty deafening too). She spent a while banging on about how if it were New York, all the paintings would be roped off, you'd have to queue in enormous lines and you'd hardly get to see the artworks. So we're lucky, aren't we.

The Sunday brought about Schmitchy's birthday, and it was fun to see him and Kez. And then I caught up with Tal and Joel, which was LOADS of fun. It was strange being out in Warburton again. Not much has changed, but it's got some different bits. Still fantastic. The Gladysdale Bakery for piiiiiiiiiie. I missed all of that sort of thing. We didn't have much time to spare, so couldn't really explore the main street or anything later, which was a bit disappointing. Still, can always go back. Or something. I felt a tad guilty for not taking time to catch up with any other ex-work people, but then who knows whether it would be awkward or not.

Still, there are some things you can go back to.

On the water at night

Photos can be purchased from RedBubble here.