|The front verandah at Baxter Street today. Note the battered rose petals on the wet cement.|
I have also written to my girlfriend in far north Queensland. We write real letters, dear reader, stamps and paper and Kikki K stickers. My friend owns a cattle farm. Can you imagine? She is so brave and hardy. She rides horses and quad bikes. She pushes enormous, FIERCE cows into trucks. When she sustains an injury, as she recently did while shucking oysters, her husband (who is a vet) stitches her wound because they are TOO FAR from town. Oh, the thought of it makes me hyperventilate. Even their internet connection is as trusty as a plastic phone in a sandpit. On the upside, there are platypus in her dam — which is a fine, fine thing. For those of you who do not live in Australia, platypus are not seen around these urban parts, EVER. My friend also looks like Gwyneth Paltrow (just so you can visualise, dear reader, ahem) and is as smart as a whip. She was my bridesmaid (in Queensland) twenty-eight years ago. The wedding was pretty despite the coral lipstick and big hair. The marriage, I am sad to say, was something of a travesty. Oh, he was a cad, dear reader. Such a cad. And while the marriage quickly went belly-up, my friendship with my bridesmaid remained strong. We have since made completely different lifestyles choices, but it's of no consequence. Love doesn't care a jot about such things, does it?
|Drawing to music, in Year of the Spark, with Lynn Whipple.|
The classes I'm doing in Year of the Spark are not only a joy in and of themselves, they are also sending my imagination soaring. Remember the woven wire and fibre horse I made last week, dear reader? Well, ever since I made her, a melancholy ghost boy with button eyes has been haunting my imagination. It's all a bit Neil Gaimanish I guess, (have you read Coraline?) and yet I'm happy to stick with him (ghost boy not Mr Gaiman) for a while longer. See what he's trying to tell me. Likewise the little king. He's a cranky little despot but I do find him enchanting. So we'll see.
Signing off for now, dear reader.
Until next time
Yours in squalls and scribbles.