&

i’ve googled,  looked into the forums. you can’t unsubscribe people from a public wordpress blog. it’s their choice. if they want to get an email every time you have a stupid thought, they can. nothing you can do about it.

in a way it makes sense, right. if you don’t want someone acessing your life well wow: try not putting it all online.

but in another way i don’t understand. i really don’t. none of it.

one hundred percent dance

i’m not set up here to add drums. even if i was i probably wouldn’t. or shouldn’t. i’m not too good at recognising my own limitations. drums is possibly a limit.

not sure where i’m going with this stuff. maybe i need to get all of the 2015 melodies out, done, rendered. then i can look at the instrument again, think about what i want to do with it into the future.

flow / fulcrum

late 2014 i worked briefly with a group of local artists on a project – they were all challenged to make artworks responding to the murrumbidgee river. one member of the group was an aboriginal artist, david williams. we had an initial group meeting where i intended to get everyone talking about the project, discussing things, bouncing ideas off each other. it wasn’t overly productive but was friendly & fun. it was kind of brief – nobody was too expansive. i think it was my fault a little. i needed to guide the process. one thing i remember david saying about the river stuck with me tho. he’s not an overly talkative guy, but he said what the river meant to him was simple: it meant he was home. something clicks within him when he gets down on to the redgum floodplains. his body relaxes; he knows he’s there. home.

i’ve grown up along the murrumbidgee too & i think it’s the same for me, a bit. now that i live here in narrandera, in a sense, i’m back home. being able to get in the water every day clears my head. observing the colours as they change with the seasons has become one of my main interests. idk. maybe it is just water. but it has a pull.

my ex told me this weekend she’s seeing someone else. i guess i’m still processing that. it means this someone, this other person has now been introduced to my kids. i have to be ok with this. & i will be.

i haven’t been ‘seeing’ anyone. i don’t know if i can. i find it hard to connect with people. it takes forever to find one person. when it happens it’s so rare, so surprising, & usually indefinable. it makes me oscillate weirdly / i don’t know myself.  yes i did want that. i miss you but i can submerge that in the waters of the marambidyabilla.

20160108 bundidgerry 3

 

back berembed paddock

can’t look away squinting & half-hearted

my athleticism failed/flailing your rigour it’s

every other person with comfort to offer

the world spins suffuse with growth with decay

with uncertainty & me i’m on foot a tracker

ranging the ideas or images leading forward

or backward to collaborative solace then

i scuff the loamy sand with my elbow soil stalker

much: working on very intent acts of deletion

where the idea of mood is key the only reward

is in you in thinking of yourself your priorities &

maybe the cold air rattling past flyscreen tonight

inflating & expanding all staggered sentiment

the gusts just oscillations of unlocked accounts

i broke a branch & patted out a stubborn seat

of debris thinking of these lines yet to be written

now previously read you’re signposted such

long highway miles distant with the clouds

burgeoning purple overhead gilding me

as a pastoral loser (mitch pops a wheelie

near the riverbank) back of the page this

sketchy imprint it’s everyone ever: bored &

poorly attempting stuff / the cicada howl

dies down & it’s the land of cousins glimpse

the fun under that snaking redgum dad caught

a turtle but we’re still just the lonely striations

of bark, rendered as peak situation breakers

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