Posts from — August 2010

I just read this on John Mayer’s Tumblr, and this, this exact thing explains my sleeping problem:

Typically I’m not really a big fan of secondhand books, but I love my copy of Ariel. The scribbles in it are almost as interesting as the poems themselves.

When I was visiting home, one road trip I really wanted to take was to Hill End, a historic town about 130 kms from Orange.

One day Mum and I decided to set off, and of the three or so routes, we decided to head in through Sofala.

It was one of those incredible days where facing one direction, there was nothing to see but deep blue sky, and the other, rolling dark clouds.

Before we reached Sofala, we came across the cemetery of a tiny village called Wattle Flat. As we were in no rush, we decided to spend some time wandering around, something both of us really enjoy doing.

I find them particularly peaceful places, Wattle Flat no exception.

This is me in 2005, in Bathurst, writing my thesis.

I used to wake up in the middle of the night, have a sudden idea and spend the rest of the night reading or writing. And I’ve had insomnia ever since.

That was the last house I lived in where I decorated the walls of my bedroom. I used to print out song lyrics, pictures of Kathleen, PJ and Tori, and stick them to my walls along with my Polaroids and postcards.

Above me in this picture is a leopard print clock a friend gave me when she and her then boyfriend, now husband, bought their first house and hot pink leopard print didn’t fit the aesthetics of their new place, but she wasn’t completely ready to get rid of it for good. I was just “minding” it. Since then they have built another house and I guess it still doesn’t suit, because she never asked for it back and I rapidly got over hot pink leopard print myself. Now it exists as landfill.

To the right of it is a picture of a Russian Orthodox priest, which I think came from a text book I used for Modern History in high school. It was a vaguely macabre picture, which suited my aesthetics. Next to it is the season five Sopranos cast picture and then a stone carving of a devil, which I never really liked much. It was so heavy, I’m not sure how I hung it, but it was directly above where I lay in bed and would have done real damage if it ever fell.  

Not pictured, are four Polaroids that were stuck above my bed. Two were of cherry blossoms, two of gravestones. That bedroom was the last place I  ever saw them, and of all the things I have ever lost in the many moves I’ve made, I miss them the most. They were the first pictures I took, and put together and made me feel as though photography might be something I could do.

I had good times in this room. I loved doing Honours, and it was the last year where I really felt free. I used to smoke out my window and look at the night sky and back then, everything seemed possible.