Trash patch

This is quite an amazing story. At first I kind of thought it might be a positive story about how ocean life is adapting effectively to this new, human-derived environment. But then I read about the fish with plastic in their stomachs and I thought, not so much. But how amazing is this? You can't tell how large it is from this picture, but if this quantity of small stuff is what's in there, how the hell could you clean it up? Size of Texas, they think this patch is.

Look how the fish are treating this area, like it's a coral reef that they interact with. The evolution of these artificial forms that find themselves with utterly alien afterlives fascinates me. It's like when you're little and you think your toys have a life of their own when you're not there; maybe there's something to that. Material things don't enact their own fates, but they're a part of the evolution of the physical environment, as shaped by all of our actions. This patch is like a garden gone wild (...and with toxicity in the groundwater).

Melange du chose au deux jours

Yesterday I tried to find fabric town, but got lost in 'normal people live here' town. It was lovely, actually. Lots of tiny narrow streets. I found a shopping street that I decided was functional and not uber consumerist and paradoxically went a bit buying things crazy. The ceramics they have here are to die for ... I still want to go back and buy the $50 red mug ... today I managed to only spend money on lunch and entry to a parky thing. What a star! Such restraint!

I've seen no art yet, I keep wandering on foot and getting lost in neighbourhoods or shops, or getting lost on a bike. Tomorrow I am totally going to see some art.

Today there were iris fields, which were frankly a little bit overrated (or perhaps it made me nostalgic for my Mum's garden). It was full of Japanese couples of a certain age, which is nice, and many were doing watercolours of the flowers. Yesterday I bought these dried banana things and they are so amazing that I've now looked up whether I'm allowed to bring them back to Aust (I think so, if I declare them) ... soooo goooooood.

What else happened in Tokyo? My charming host took me to a beautiful bookstore, full of gorgeous books on the twentieth century avant gardes. I can't tell you how pleasing a second-hand bookstore can be made to the eye in this country. I just can't. I exhibited great restraint in not buying the book of photographs of Morandi's studio in Bologna, or the Fluxus artist's book wherein all the contents of a table are described in great detail.

Oh, curry is ready! I'm being so well-looked after.

Here is where the sky is blue

I am staying at my parents' house while I prepare work for a show in their city.

They have the most beautiful garden, which my mother in particular obsessively works on. It's tasteful and alive and not fussy, and there are secret places and different levels to discover all around the perimeter of the house.

My mum has a great sense of colour and design, but is loose enough with the garden that it has an energy and a sense of a life of its own.


My dad used to grow a lot of vegetables, but because of the lack of any rain, ever, he's sworn off it. My mother has invented all sorts of crazy water recycling systems involving drip systems made out of pipes, hoses, plastic bottles and a customised wheelie bin. They've ripped up all the dead brown lawns and put in brown, I dunno, woody stuff. Chips. You know, it gets stuck all over your feet. Because it doesn't rain where they live any more. Ever.



Visiting them in spring makes me want to move to a country acreage and make compost. Unfortunately, I have no money for that and would probably find it too lonely by myself.

token something

I bought some new clothes today. Shit, they're good.

It's really fucken hot. No really.

I got a huge tax return and can buy a new computer. Yay!

I am going to Brisbane on the weekend. I suppose it'll be even hotter there.

Seems like a lot of effort to have a blog. I'm not short of projects, y'know. Wah, wah, wah (that's a self-mocking whingey tone in case you didn't realise).

Things I've eaten that grew in my garden recently: a cucumber. lots of beans. some strawberries. a few peas. countless mulberries. rocket. basil. sage.

who know where it will all end! probably with the golden shallots.

In other news, the ginger's finally coming up.

I do actually have a new apartment, actually

... except it's a federation semi in Marrickville and I haven't moved there yet. I have a garden that's like a mouth I'm gonna put my money in the same location as. I've talked so much about growing things that I better damn well do it. I have three hay bales to start me off. I went to an opening tonight that I really enjoyed. Talked to some people I know well, talked to some people I don't know well ... the little things, y'know? I find my mood is always dependent on contingencies - situations, environments, hangers-on, passers-by ... blah de blah banal. A few drinks this evening, [what's the singular of folks?]. It was a nice feeling.

Isn't the word 'blog' such a downer? some marketer should come up with a less unsexy-sounding word. "I'm feeling a bit bloggy today, I can't come to work". It must be the double g.

I wrote some graffitti in the toilets tonight. I couldn't resist; there was grammatical argument taking place. In combination with some art bitching. Not a helpful addition to the discourse but hey. Ever had that feeling that you should get off your arse and become invoolved in the discussion, only to realise that it is none the richer for your participation? Blogging and toilet cubicle grafitti: something in common at last.

There's this whole thing with the performance of blogging (especially after having lurked for so long), about who might be reading, who knows what or thinks what about what's written. The whole anonymity thing seems pretty silly to me, aside from the frankly unlikely in most cases threat of personal harm or physical stalking or whatever. Your ego doesn't go away, and you still have an identity. I guess you just have more than one. It's like when you travel to get away from whatever's going wrong; sooner or later it comes back, because you always take yourself and your problems/pattens with you.

I am so sleepy that I have to go to sleepy sleep now.