Thought there was no more Doctor Who til Christmas? There is a lil bit. The Children in Need Special. This particular one is more of a preview for the Christmas Special than a short stand alone. The only thing it proves is that it's obvious Clara Oswald isn't quite gone. And that Father Christmas is real. … Continue reading Ain’t no Xmas like a Doctor Who Xmas
Random Short Thoughts
Notational Interludes
After my post about art I could write about how I'm also a frustrated musician, inspired by my mother, who was the epitome of a folksy mcfolk musician, playing, as she did sporadically, the piano accordion, recorder, xylophone and glockenspiel, mostly by ear. On the other side of my family my knitting Nan focused her powers on … Continue reading Notational Interludes
Art/less Disadvantage
My mother was an artist: lively pen and ink portraits, wry and whimsical cartoons and sculpture in clay and wood. She held exhibitions and sold her pieces. Her wake featured some of her best works. My grandmother produced remarkable charcoal landscapes and haunting portraits too. My aunt, I believe, had talent with water colours. The boxes … Continue reading Art/less Disadvantage
Messages in the music
Being a person in the world, I have noticed, of late, that it isn't going well. The world, that is. Drought, ice melting, reefs dying, war, famine, poverty, burning this, flooding that, rampant terrible disease things, pillaging hordes of other things, like politicians and media barons, kids being shelled, torture, censorship, kidnapping, rape memes, repression, … Continue reading Messages in the music
Black Swan of Trespass
The robber of dead men's dreams There is a famous Australian literary hoax, called the Ern Malley affair. Two poets invented the Melbourne poet, you guessed it, Ern Malley to dupe literary journal editor Max Harris. It was all about modernism. This is some of Ern's work, from Durer: Innsbruck, 1495: I had often cowled … Continue reading Black Swan of Trespass
Confining myself to the present
Much have I seen and known Certainly I can say, I am part of all that I have met and yet it might be that I've got a case of that summertime sadness going around from Lana Del Rey. Or maybe not. It is fair to say in my experience, December hasn't been so much ho, … Continue reading Confining myself to the present
Writing: dreams may come
True Fact: stories about dreams are mostly boring to other people. This however, won't stop me telling you about my dream. Anyhoo, I dreamt I gave birth to a tiny demonic grey Gumby-looking thing I imagined was a golem (I know, golems aren't born, nor are they usually tiny). It rested in the palm of my … Continue reading Writing: dreams may come
Truth Bomb? Or something, something, life.
Subtitled check your developed-nation privilege and mundane first-world problems. But sometimes, someone has the felicity of expression that so neatly coincides with a mild and probably passing case of what-has-my-life-come-to that it needs to be repeated out of fear, perhaps, that within lies a kernel of truth. Whatevs. It spoke to me. "Cram the wild, … Continue reading Truth Bomb? Or something, something, life.
Crash. Words on the Effect.
I was in a car crash. A couple of years ago I was in a car accident. It was a close call. My very first car Bertha, was a write off. As was the light pole on the freeway my car took out before turning on its side and skidding along the grass verge before … Continue reading Crash. Words on the Effect.
More with the historical and other stuff, already
There are lots in the world, I can, like the Dude, Abide. It's not like I want everyone to agree. That'd be boring and there's plenty of boring without me adding to the quotient. But sometimes people like to simplify things where they're complex and also hold dear things they learn, even when the learning … Continue reading More with the historical and other stuff, already
Writing Bec 