Podcast: Lost Vignettes with Tim and Vanessa

Wednesday, April 25th, 2007

Having just returned from a trip to Melbourne, I’m catching up on my recordings. The latest development (which emerged from reading aloud together with Lizzie during the trip) is that the recordings are a bit more interesting when they have a live audience. Lizzie was a good audience because she had never read the original stories before.

Today, sitting with Vanessa and Tim in my loungeroom, I recorded “The Lost Vignettes” which was posted last year on the 19th of April. Both V and T are familiar with the stories, so there is some reflection and chatting about the events and places depicted. We share the reading of comments contributed by blog readers - Vanessa does the female voices, and Tim does Alex Bruen, which is kind of fun.

In “The Lost Vignettes” we hear about Marie and Chris, punks, “tag” graffiti, the Palace Pantry, and we sit in the sun with Bruce watching the dogs in Petersham Park.

Listen in to the story here [15min, 15mb, mp3]
Read the original posting here.

April the Fifth, a year and a day ago

Friday, April 6th, 2007

Here’s your radio broadcast from yesterday a year ago:
April 5th 2006 [6mb mp3]

In which I grapple with the noise from the construction site three houses away, meet Marie, who is renovating the flat of my neighbour Barbara, and go for a walk on the north side of Petersham. My first unformed thoughts about the Petersham Bowling Club too! This is interesting. I note that I think the greens look in pretty good shape. What a laugh. It turns out through my extensive involvement with the club subsequent to the sham project that the greens were in terrible shape, something which contributed to the demise of competitive bowling here.

The original entry for April 5, 2006, in text, is here.

Wednesday arvo, Thursday Night

Saturday, May 20th, 2006

Wednesday arvo:
I call up Neil, Mayhem’s friend who works for the railways. There’s a RailCorp training centre in Petersham, and I’d love to see what goes on there. But Neil says he’s not stationed in the ’sham at the moment, and besides, he’s just a trainee. Best to contact the folks at HQ and get permission through the proper channels. Of course, I never get around to making that call.

But as I’m walking past the station, I spy a group of uniformed rail workers huddled around a fire in a metal box. One by one, they all have a go at putting out the fire. Big clouds of white steam drift into the air. Each worker hunkers down with arms extended, upwind of the flames. The trick is to get the extinguisher as close to the fire as possible, while keeping your body at a safe distance. Once the fire is out there’s a small ripple of applause from the rest of the group. Then the boss takes his gas applicator and starts the blaze up again for the next person’s turn. I stand and watch through the cyclone fencing, my fingers clinging onto the wire.

Thursday night:
The Petersham “radio talent committee” meets at the bowling club. I arrive late, accompanied by Mayhem. In fact, we’re too late for dinner, but Fiona serves up some hefty and delicious apple crumble. It’s a meal in itself. The latest news is that the broadcast is going to happen on evening of the 21st of June. It’s going to be a big affair, with music, bowling, food, drinks, with James O’Loughlin riding the airwaves from right inside the clubhouse.

Marie (who’s on the committee) tells me that one night, a few months back, she was flashed as she walked up Palace Street in the dark. The flasher stepped out of the bushes, presenting his naked body in a proud display. Marie sprung back and cried out, aghast. She hurried along home to call the police. She remembers only a few essential details. The man was naked, wearing only a headband (not a tennis sweatband, more of a printed bandana), gymshoes, and a beer gut. And yes, we had to ask…apparently, he wasn’t particularly well endowed…

I also meet Danni and Gary, who live just across the way from the Bowling Club. So close, in fact, that you can see their place from the window. The clubhouse is like their second living room. Tonight, for the first time, their experimenting with a hi-tech radio transmitter. They’ve left their baby fast asleep at home, and in theory, the transmitter will alert them at the first sign of crying. In the middle of his beer, Gary pops home just in case….

“Life. Be in it.”

Monday, April 24th, 2006

What a day! Five events on a single Sunday. Life in the ’sham is certainly subject to cycles of compression and relaxation. After yesterday, I felt like hiding away at home, pulling down the blinds, vacuuming the loungeroom, having a bath, clipping my toenails. I was thinking to call up Lucy for a visit to her garden, but I’ve put it off for another day. I’m no superhuman when it comes to social interaction.
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the lost vignettes

Wednesday, April 19th, 2006

It’s come to my attention that I am writing too much. I need to cut down, see if I can say what I need to say, but in fewer words. Because of my excessively verbose accounts of some recent events, a lot of great stuff has dropped through the net. Here are a few brief “vignettes” to get us all up to speed…
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the great escape

Monday, April 17th, 2006

Bec offered to drive me, if I’d look up the address. I went out to her car to grab the directory. Marie and Chris were across the way, still fixing up Barbara’s flat. They waved me over.

“Hey, where are YOU going?” Marie asked. “We-e-ell”… I began. How could I do this? They were onto me.

The only thing for it was to come clean. I explained my dilemma, the importance of spending the day with my Dad, the idea of the blindfold as a “legal loophole” in my own rules. They thought about it. Chris felt it could work. “It’s true, family comes first, you should definitely go. But you HAVE to keep on the blindfold the WHOLE time.” Marie was less sure: “If you ask me, leaving is leaving, no matter whether you cover your eyes or not.” They were still debating it between themselves as I sat in the passenger seat putting one of Bec’s silk scarves over my eyes. I waved to them blindly as we drove off.
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Petersham Wednesday April 5, 2006

Wednesday, April 5th, 2006

I’m sitting in my living room, gazing blankly at the computer screen, on the third morning of my Petersham artist in residence in my own neighbourhood. It’s just after nine, and I’m finding it difficult to concentrate. About fifty metres away, construction work is going on, grinding pulsing abrasive rasping noises which permeate the house. I feel this noise in my body as much as in my ears. It’s unsettling, irritating, and difficult to ignore. “Luckily,” we live three houses away from the building site. I can’t imagine what it must be like for the folks who live next door. (more…)