Big Woohoo! 26 November, 2007

Recently I entered the Brisbane City Council’s 2007 Lord Mayor’s Photographic Awards. I received a letter today, advising that my photo will appear in the Museum of Brisbane from 30 November 2007 – 2 March 2008. I’m an excited girl. The photo can be viewed here.

I’d like to thank:

* Ben for recommending which camera to get.

* Mum and Dad for assisting with the purchase of the camera.

* Benjamin for commenting on the photo on Facebook; influencing the choice of which photo to enter the competition. And for his ongoing encouragement.

* Jamie for being a great help at the last minute with the printing and ideas for the photo’s title and description.

In loving memory of my camera!

Word of warning 26 November, 2007

I’ve got one word to say about cameras – don’t drop them! The one time I didn’t put my hand through the wrist strap, I dropped my camera and messed up the optical lens. After doing some reading on simliar complaints on the net, it seems that even dropping a camera a small distance on soft ground can be detrimental.

I”m not embarrassed to say that my camera spent its last moments capturing joy on the dance floor at Friday’s nightclub (I know my big bro will be proud of me!). Christmas is good timing for me this year.

This is f***ing political, everything’s political 26 November, 2007

I was pretty excited to have the new Prime Minister’s name on my House of Representatives voting paper last week. Needless to say though, I put my favourite colour into action. Like me, did anyone else laugh when they saw some of the names of the political parties on the Senate voting paper?!

Blasts from the past 12 November, 2007

Recently there have been a few things that have brought back memories…

like late afternoon summer storms (view from my balcony):

 

And the old school gang, getting together again:

We haven’t aged that much in 11 years, have we?

Deaf Festival 10 November, 2007

Last month I volunteered at the Deaf Festival in Brisbane. It meant a day of helping set up booths, collecting donations, going around holding up signs to announce the next event, painting kids faces, packing up furniture, communicating with organisers, other volunteers and visitors and drinks at the pub afterwards. It was my first full day of signing, and I was rather knackered by the end of it (though the late night and beer the night before didn’t help that!).

There were a few interesting cultural differences that I experienced that day:

• Although there were lots of people there, it was a quiet festival! Music and microphones not required.
• I was keen to see the festival opening presentations, and the program indicated the time they started. I was on my way to watch the presentations and got side-tracked looking at the stalls close to the stage, and it wasn’t until a few people clapped that I realise the presentations had already started! (Cause they were all in Auslan, there was no loud speaker announcement.)
• There were interpreters for the presentations for the purpose of someone doing that speed typing thing (can’t think of the name for it, you know, like they have in court), which was projected onto a screen.
• When a balloon suddenly popped, there were only a small number of people who jumped!
• While I was at the front gate of the festival collecting donations as people arrived in their cars, I wondered why people didn’t wind down their window to communicate with me. Then I realised – you don’t need to have the window down to sign!

My face painting skills were really put to the test that day – how do you tell a kid that you have no idea how to paint a small face to look like the Incredible Hulk (interesting connection – one of the Incredible Hulk actors is Deaf), Spider Man or a skull? My skull ended up looking like a light bulb and the Incredible Hulk kid got asked if he painted his own face! Everything’s a learning experience…

What’s your title? 10 November, 2007

I like putting words together to try and make sense of my world, and taking photos has almost become an obsession. But I don’t like having to come up with titles for these things.

So that got me thinking… if you had to give your life a title, what would it be?

Untitled 10 November, 2007

you didn’t match the mood

of my dreams last night

when I thought I had it all

sorted

into one mind map of

two jigsaw pieces

where

you were a land mass

too difficult to reach

too far to even try

and understand

WAW this Sunday 7 November, 2007

Walk Against Warming, this Sunday 11 November 2007, all around the world. Go for it!

Shantaram 4 November, 2007

I first heard about the book Shantaram from a number of travellers in Kolkata in India last year. I thought that it must be a good book for backpackers to lug the 933-page paperback around a big country.

I resisted the trend of buying it and reading it in India (after all, I was still struggling to get through City of Joy at that time), but then I ended up with a copy of Shantaram from a traveller I briefly met before he was moving on to another destination.

Books for sale in stals and bookshops in India (except for the big Western-style air-conditioned ones) are all on display in clear plastic slips. I understood why when I acquired this copy of Shantaram.

Although it has dust and dirt caked into the cover, and although its pages are difficult to separate from the thick hot air of India, I love this copy of the book as its condition reminds me of one of the things I struggled with in India – how to move about without getting dust and dirt up my fingernails and stuck to my sunscreen covered skin.

The author brings alive the weight that India puts on the senses

He describes, almost perfectly,

The people, his experiences and

The deepness of his thoughts and philosophies on life.

Fate

Luck

Love

Crime

Pain

Violence

Murder.

Of all of these,

He’s keen on love.

An Aussie guy who escapes from prison and travels to India

Pretends to be a Kiwi,

Acts an American in times of war

And gives no secrets,

Not even when he thinks he’ll die or

To the woman whose eyes he compares to the ocean.

The guy who got done

For crime

Then escaped to a life of Mafia crime.

Constantly, throughout the 933 pages, the description of his experiences

Made my heart pound,

Produced tears on my cheeks

And made me laugh.

He even made me feel sorry for him,

This guy whose conviction led him to more crime.

All this, but as he says,

Love permeates.

It’s present in names and places

Time and spaces

It’s what binds us humans together,

And when there’s nothing left

Like in this guy’s life,

When he left his family, heart and country,

When the woman in his life was something different,

When there’s nowhere to live but in the slum,

There was still love.

It doesn’t matter if the lines between truth and story blur, because

“With every human heartbeat,

is a universe of possibilities.”