Rich and famous you will not be if you rely only on zine sales. Still, I had a marvelous day out, I shared a table with someone very interesting, many lovely friends turned up and I got lightheaded and slightly delirious from sunstroke. I used this to great effect and smiled at many men, some even smiled back, in a bemused sort of way. One of my friends is almost positive she has a man for me to have coffee with, he sounds appalling but seeing as its just coffee I don't mind.
One of the best parts of the day was getting there. I raced to the station and just made the train then ten minutes later I'm waiting in the heart of the city for a bus, coffee and cigarette in hand mp3 player on go, just like one of those people I see in the city, one of those people I would like to be. A short bus ride later I was in some back street in The Rocks and hunting for the giant staircase down to Walsh Bay. Descending into the shadow of the Harbour Bridge and the good salt air writers' festival punters swarmed and rearranged along the piers into shapes of hope and good fortune.
Some days are not lumbering moments of cells and bones, some days unlock the heavy burdens and just let you be. Today was one of those days.
After the small to medium success of my zine 'Ocarina' Newtown beckoned me home for food, coffee and the rolling tread of familiar footpaths. I ran into yet another friend at my favourite cafe on King St. It was a delight and now I sit fed and watered cat curled next to a giant heater, all that remains of the day is pleasant dreams and soft warm blankets.
One of the best parts of the day was getting there. I raced to the station and just made the train then ten minutes later I'm waiting in the heart of the city for a bus, coffee and cigarette in hand mp3 player on go, just like one of those people I see in the city, one of those people I would like to be. A short bus ride later I was in some back street in The Rocks and hunting for the giant staircase down to Walsh Bay. Descending into the shadow of the Harbour Bridge and the good salt air writers' festival punters swarmed and rearranged along the piers into shapes of hope and good fortune.
Some days are not lumbering moments of cells and bones, some days unlock the heavy burdens and just let you be. Today was one of those days.
After the small to medium success of my zine 'Ocarina' Newtown beckoned me home for food, coffee and the rolling tread of familiar footpaths. I ran into yet another friend at my favourite cafe on King St. It was a delight and now I sit fed and watered cat curled next to a giant heater, all that remains of the day is pleasant dreams and soft warm blankets.
Comments