I knocked over an elderly lady. I did not stop to see if she was alright. This is because I was running through the MCA with my hands over my face. I was sure that if I took them away the unexpected and powerful tears would spray devastation across the gallery taking countless lives and smudging art. That was a chance I wasn't prepared to take.
It is possible that I have done three particularly stupid things. None of these were on purpose. One was after I dyed ten metres of bookbinding thread earsplitting purple whilst drinking a concoction of rum, vodka and lord knows what else. The Spatula concocted it. She assured me it was good and not lethal. The other stupid thing was not at all my fault. It was more that I reacted to the stupid thing by running through an art gallery full tilt than by doing something to begin with. I do not ordinarily run in art galleries. I was holding a briefcase. I was wearing a beret. I don' think those details are important.
Vanessa Berry was in the lift. I looked at her and remembered that I am an independent person. I wonder if she has this effect on everybody.
It is possible to have a verbal accident
Nam Le said David Foster Wallace was unfailingly brave. "An incomparable mind lashed to a mighty heart." I don't remember where to put my punctuation I guess that means I have a comparable mind.
Drunk but it's windy outside
You think I wrote whore on a coaster but I really wrote 'I am Roget's whore' which doesn't mean anything. Two bottles of wine and the wind couldn't reach inside my coat. I'm pretending to be a writer. Don't tell anybody.
Gumshoe
Yesterday I photographed a public umbrella drying machine then tried on wedding dresses and diamonds. I told the man in the shop that I invented the all-in-one cat worming tablet. He believed me.
Tissues - made from trees - a renewable sustainable resource (when managed correctly)
Walking around The Peach purposefully in ugg boots and my Grandfather's dressing gown has permanently altered my perspective on life. If it is cold I dress in warm things. I am allowed to do this. Oh yes. I will not be defeated by a combination of snot, rain and temperature.
Travelogue
I've been hauling this phrase around Australia. It describes everything. Flat, wide and blue.
Glass hammers and the pleasures and perils of time travel
Returning from 1952 I hit a touch of turbulence and made a pit stop outside Nuremberg. It was decided amongst the locals that their cheese was in all ways superior to all French cheeses. I declined to taste the cheese and was cast out of space and time, I did not know the German word for lactose. Fortunately Spencer, Madam Squeeze and I had already made plans to visit Penrith which exists outside of space and time. My brother was there in a tuxedo playing the trombone with a glass bottle of cola at his feet. The band leader, noticing they were outside of space and time, had instructed them to remove jackets and ties. It was a casual affair. Shops with literal names were visible from all windows. Spencer was momentarily relieved. Last week he walked in Thaitanic expecting a pleasant ocean cruise but came away with chilli and lime stuck between his front teeth. It is important to note that Gareth Liddiard plays an important part in this tale.
I reconfigured the flux capacitor by wiring it directly to the Eye of Harmony. We reappeared at The Annandale where Gareth Liddiard sat perched on a stool. He began strumming at an acoustic guitar. The room fell silent and the crowd tilted their heads and set back their shoulders. You need to brace for this music or you will come undone. I tilted and braced but the onslaught was thorough. We all know he works with the geography of sound but I wasn't expecting such a terrible revelation. I've been hitting things with glass hammers.
I reconfigured the flux capacitor by wiring it directly to the Eye of Harmony. We reappeared at The Annandale where Gareth Liddiard sat perched on a stool. He began strumming at an acoustic guitar. The room fell silent and the crowd tilted their heads and set back their shoulders. You need to brace for this music or you will come undone. I tilted and braced but the onslaught was thorough. We all know he works with the geography of sound but I wasn't expecting such a terrible revelation. I've been hitting things with glass hammers.
He was also wearing a paper hat on his head and one over each shoe
He said "this might be easier if I take off my gown". I paused to let him take off his gown but I wish he'd left it on. It felt like it had a really high thread count.
Drink until your gums bleed and the cake rises
I didn't think it would be a problem until the fourth long swallow hit the back of my throat in a poisonous wave. I stood frozen to the spot, bottle of gin vertical and clamped between my lips. I had a vague notion to tip myself upside down and run the clear contents back into the bottle but gravity and handstand peristalsis are in constant opposition.
I walked past a bottle of gin while I was baking a chocolate cake. I got the notion to pour it down my throat so I did, not all of it, but enough to make a difference to the appearance of my shampoo. I'd never noticed that the moment before I mash the handful of shampoo onto the top of my head is a beautiful one. My shampoo is opaque and iridescent. A melted handful of mother-of -pearl more lovely for being unexpected.
The gin still tastes like poison, after the potatoes, after the cake so I washed my sheets and washed my hair. I brushed my teeth until my gums bled like Mary but my eyes remained dry. Tomorrow I'll try something different.
I walked past a bottle of gin while I was baking a chocolate cake. I got the notion to pour it down my throat so I did, not all of it, but enough to make a difference to the appearance of my shampoo. I'd never noticed that the moment before I mash the handful of shampoo onto the top of my head is a beautiful one. My shampoo is opaque and iridescent. A melted handful of mother-of -pearl more lovely for being unexpected.
The gin still tastes like poison, after the potatoes, after the cake so I washed my sheets and washed my hair. I brushed my teeth until my gums bled like Mary but my eyes remained dry. Tomorrow I'll try something different.
Ms
I have lost all faith but this. It will hold blind corridors, scratches and evidence of fumbling and stumbles into beasts become tall and obvious, when someone turns the lights back on. It will be a small weight hauling down that folded obfuscation. In a corner to the left of my eye I will see something other than that sucking whirligig nothing. When I finish it three bricks will fall and my right arm will push through into something else. When I finish it bones and shattered things will need to be swept away.
When it is done I will pile its pages on the floor and step from them to the next thing, the weight of my step compressing it into sighing perspective. I will nail it to my wall next to the other diminishing monumental things drying like flowers upside down and curious. The second one will rise with the yeast of the first.
When it is done I will pile its pages on the floor and step from them to the next thing, the weight of my step compressing it into sighing perspective. I will nail it to my wall next to the other diminishing monumental things drying like flowers upside down and curious. The second one will rise with the yeast of the first.
Phoenixing
It should come on wings. Or should it have wings? This is what happens when the edit switch turns off. It should fly in welcome as chocolate cake or hail but I want it to come unbidden and wild as a horse. I want the edges cut off and nothing but meaning to remain. This is why I eat wedding cake icing. The same old problem tempts one to keep a zombie in the garden shed. It can't remember but my face remains the same.
Throw over the tyranny of paragraphs
Tip Penrith Plaza on its side. Seal the entrances and pour in undiluted alcohol, shake. Pour the human contents onto the midnight streets. Congratulations. You have just made Kings Cross after dark. I'm thinking of conducting walking tours for the curious and the insane.
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