I’ve realised that I write these ‘news’ items as a sort of debriefing for myself about the moments which impact on my consciousness.
Still feeling the reverberations of a trip to the Basement last Tuesday night.
This is a big outing for one who really relates to those who feel socially inadequate, to those who’ve held such a poverty consciousness, for so long, that a coffee in a café is a novel experience - especially so as a coffee at home costs less. ‘Bang’ -in that perception I’ve lost consciousness of the reality that a coffee in a café gives an experience of life among people who are doing the ‘normal’ things of life. It’s greater than the experience of slaking a physical thirst. Life’s circumstance can dictate perception. Circumstance have changed for me - in a modest fashion - and so must my perception. By nature I’m fairly content with a solitary life. Being a performer of any description is a stretch.
I’m not socially inadequate but I do have to make an effort and this involves ‘pushing the right buttons’ within myself.
Anyway ... just talking to you over a beer.
Mark Wilkinson, for whom I have such enormous respect as a singer/songwriter of integrity that my arm hairs stood up when first I heard his music, is off to Europe for awhile and this was his farewell Sydney show.
I try not to involve family or friends in these news items partly because I’m so rude at times that I’ve probably offended a lot of people and I’ve no wish for anyone to be harmed by association with me.
It was a great show in a great venue and family and friends had a hugely enjoyable night. Mark Wilkinson was ‘there’ and ‘in the moment’ as was Brigit a Becket who is a wonderful performer in her own right and backed Mark on the grand piano.
It’s a 220 kms round trip and I’m home by 1.a.m. and - Murphy’s Law - can’t unwind until 3.30 then can’t sleep because I’m due at an early team meeting for work and the alarm’s set for 7a.m. ... ah ... etc; ... and I’m not fit company early in the day...didn’t make the meeting but had done the work needed so no great drama.
It’s 8 a.m. The fountain - which is an abstract of two bodies entwined and has the water flowing up between their arms which, in turn, lie across each other’s shoulders - is now cleaned up and bubbling beautifully .
Much to my utter joy, a family group of satin bower birds - about six in all - fly in for a wash in the basin below. To my eyes, these are the most stunning birds to look at. Camouflage green but not at all drab - they have perfect proportions. The adult male is blue/black and beautiful. Shy and flighty, they frolic for a few seconds in the basin and then hop to the edge to shake their feathers. They go back and forth in turn. They do it as if it’s fun. The window through which I watch is a few body lengths from where the fountain plays. They see me and are unafraid. Two young Eastern Rossellas - wrong spelling - never mind - fly in and perch on the fronds of the tree ferns before swooping in to sit on the heads of the entwined bodies and drink from the water. Life is divine.