the ’sham

Sunday, 7.41pm: I haven’t the energy to write any more today. But if you have thoughts, responses, reports on your experiences at the weekend, at the Friday night slideshow/bowling event, or at the exhibition/border walk on Saturday, feel free to chime in here! I’ll keep updating over the next days.
Hooroo!
-Lucas

It’s Friday night, half past ten. You may have detected from the tardy, irregular updates, that I’ve been having a bit of a hard time knuckling down this week.

Not that it’s been “unproductive”. Sure, I’ve been meeting people. There’s been no shortage of good feedback about the project, and exciting new adventures are lining themselves up for next week. Best of all, some of the friendships I formed early on are really starting to firm up.

For example, who could believe that only a week has passed since I first met Tully (and he’s already buggin me with curly questions)? Or that things could be quite solid with Lucy, after only two cups of tea? Or that I lived in Petersham for nearly two years before starting a conversation with Carmela and her daughters from Charlie’s Deli? And who would have known that Chris (”eyes on the street”) could turn out to be such a strong local ally?
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It’s been a week. I’ve just spoken to Chris in Perth, who knows my history (more than nearly anyone), and I feel clearer now about what needs to be done.

Following my post from yesterday, where I expressed concern that I was not “feeling the freshness” - that I was going through the motions a bit - that it all felt like a bit of “a job” (heaven forbid!) - I received several encouraging emails and comments, urging me to keep “powering along” with it. To all who wrote, thanks. It helps. At least I know what I’ve done so far hasn’t been entirely tedious, tepid, or turgid. However, I still think a change is called for.
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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…)