Postcard from Down Under
Alive and pedaling.
Greetings from Down Under, where the wind is fresh and the snakes are spicy and give you the side eye (evidence here) and guys, it’s winter here in a couple of days, go to sleep, danger noodle!
As you may have guessed by no posts these last two weeks—or maybe you didn’t even notice and that’s cool too—I am taking a break from posting my…, let’s call them “creative writing” exploits while I’m here. Here being the wilds of the West in the wheat belt of Australia. That said, I thought I’d share some happy snaps, along with the usual amends this week just so you have something to look at. I kicked it off (see what I did there) with a chilly watch of some lads kicking a footy around on a Saturday arvo in Sydney—’carn the Waves!1
Here’s a little gallery featuring pics from some of my rides out here. I’m calling the trip my Accent Reset Training Camp. It’s flat. I am pedaling FOR HOURS (and sometimes for four hours).
And here, as a reward for your patience, is me finding the Ben Hall (a bushranger) Shooting Site on one of my rides. A little tour for you.
See you in about two weeks (if not before).
Yours in tiny thought,
Janeen
This week’s amends…
“The way to love life is to love many things.”
- Van Gogh
On Rotation: “To Her Door” by Paul Kelly
Sharing a live version of this song performed in 1992. Paul Kelly is the people’s songwriting poet of Australia. Other songs to check out on this record—and there are MANY great songs on it—include “Careless,” “I can’t believe we were married” and “Invisible Me.” I sort of want to list them all. Great live record.
This painting was on my friend’s wall in Sydney. Love it. Painted by Australian artist, Phil Meatchem (go check out the insta). He’s been an Archibald Prize finalist twice. Here is this 2017 finalist entry. (Not sure where I got the twice from - I think I merged the Archibald Prize with the Bald Archies—which he has been a finalist in, too—and got the twice.)
Love his style
Via my friend’s house.
Via Kottke
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‘Carn means “come on” in Australian (like mash those two words together). Get guttural with it. You’ll hear it. Here is a classic Bruce Dawe poem about footy. And life. And death. ‘Carn the Pies! in this case. This is read to you by (starts about 4:10), coincidentally by Paul Kelly with a short intro as to how he discovered his poetry. ↩
