Between Bourke 'n' Elizabeth

... decisions ... decisions ...

All on the same day: I saw a job I thought I would prefer; and, I saw a house I thought I would prefer.

The job is still at the University but it is supporting research applications from within a faculty. This would be busier and not as dry as the job I currently do. However, it is down a level in salary. But, it holds out the possibility of a four day week. So ... lots less money but more free time and a more interesting role.

The house is in the same street as I currently live. It has been renovated, the bedroom put upstairs and the ground floor is one very large living space. All the things that I have been thinking I would like here in this terrace. However, there is a massive rental shortage in Sydney and prices have shot up. The place up the road is bigger because the bedroom is on the second floor. They are asking $450 per week for it. I currently pay $280.

... groan ....

I can't do both. I cannot pay more rent from a smaller salary. I turn 60 in 6 weeks and my superannuation becomes available to me as a tax-free pension if I want. What I can also do, is set up a Transition-to-Retirement where I pay a percentage of my current salary into my super account - before tax - and take out of the super a tax-free salary top-up. Thus, effectively, laundering the tax out of my salary. This would mean that a lot of the rental hike - or salary decrease - will be paid for by decreased taxes.

... groan ... groan ...

... 2 wheels vs 4 ...

On 1st July new legislation comes into force which defines a "bicycle storage zone" at many intersections across the metropolitan area. This BSZ is a hatched off area at the head of the inner lane, into which cyclists can "pour" waiting for the lights to change. The controversy that is arising is due to the fines that will be levied against those motorists who "drift" into the zone: 3 demerit points and $342. More if it is outside a school.

My gripe with cyclists is that they are overlooked when road-rules and fines are framed. Firstly, they do not need a licence. Nor do they need insurance. They are required to wear a helmet but so many do not. If they go through a red light, even though their picture may be taken, they are not fined because their bike is not registered and hence is not traceable. I am not sure about tolls - do bike riders have to pay tolls?

However, in the current climate and the rising price of petrol and the depletion of oil reserves, I do not mind this new legislation. Anything that contributes to fewer cars on the road and the better use of world resources, I applaud.

I would, however, like to see bike riders forced to register and insure their bikes. And to get a licence.

... visions of the centre ...

The journey into the centre of this country in April has left a lasting aura - the images, the colours, the terrain. Add to that the pride of actually having travelled in the way I did. So many people are unable to disguise the admiration that creeps across their face.

The images jostling in my head have increased my interest in those who have the artistic ability to try to put their love of country on canvas. Here are three of them: Hans Heysen, Albert Namatjira and Sidney Nolan,

Each artist was very much defined by his cultural identity and how others interpreted that.

Heysen was born in Germany and moved to rural South Australia - very much a conservative, country gentleman who lived into his 90s. Namatjira was an Aborigine born in a mission who was judged by standards he did not understand and died an emotional wreck in his 50s. Nolan was a bohemian and an adored member of the chattering classes - beloved of the art establishment.

Each of us will react differently to their artistic vision. We bring to our sight our own cultural upbringing. Judge for yourself.

Heysen

Namatjira

Nolan

No matter how much I "like" the works of Heysen and Namatjira, I know in my heart that what you see in these three samples for each artist is very much representative of their oeuvre. Whereas with Nolan, this is just one period - in the 1950s - where he got a bee in his bonnet about his country.

Been there ... done that ... know how he felt.

... elders ...

Not often that I watch television nowadays: but I did last night.

It was the first in a group of episodes of "Enough Rope" that have been grouped together as "Elders". As the producers see it,  "We live in a society that worships youth. But in some cultures, it is the elders who are valued for their wisdom. In this series we talk to six prominent elders of our tribe, to see what life has taught them." Some of the tribal elders still to come include Elisabeth Murdoch, Bob Hawke and Isabel Allende. The first episode, however, was an interview with David Attenborough.

It used some of the footage that I saw in that wonderful documentary that celebrated his 50 years of wildlife programs with the BBC. It used his personal declamation on global warming which signalled his final "to air". He appears to be in robust good health for an 82 year old, although he indicated that his legs will no longer do as much as he wants them to. He has lived in the same house for 53 years - that may compensate for all the travelling around the world during that period. His wife, Jane, passed away in 1997 and his grandchildren live in Canberra where their father is an academic at ANU - in the School of Archaeology and Anthropology.

Andrew Denton has a fairly laid-back interviewing style, but I would prefer his questions to be more off-the-cuff. There are not many times that he asks follow-up questions and this makes the experience a bif jerky. Last night there was a quizzical camera placement which had the two people involved at the extremity of the image with no particularly obvious reason why. It is not as though there was a stunning bookshelf or view of the garden in the centre of the image.

There is a list of the 10 most popular video clips which was topped by the song of the lyre bird. However, my favourite is the gorillas.

Helen Garner : The First Stone

I was confused by the time I finished reading this book. Why does it have a reputation in Australia as an important book? It is simple. It draws no conclusions. It does not speak to all the participants. It does not give me any guidelines. It is not that it is hard to comprehend - there simply is not much there to comprehend.

It took me about 36 hours to realise that this is the strength of Garner's narrative. I was left with a sense of emptiness. A sense that I did not get any where. There was nothing of consequence in this story to warrant me trying to wrap my head around it. Eventually, I came to understand that this was the problem with the events - not with the book. Garner took me along on her investigation into the events at Ormond College at the University of Melbourne at the end of 1991. She nibbled around the edges. She niggled the participants. She pulled this way and that. Nothing. Zilch.

A middle-aged man has his life trashed. Two young women were used and manipulated. And for what?

Garner's writing is straight-forward, unadorned - minimalist would describe it. She wears her heart on her sleeve but strips her language back to the bare essential. Not just her language. Her story-telling is minimalist. She does not sensatonalise. She nips. Arouind the edges. A dog with a bone. Into the fray. Out. Shake of the head. Into the fray. Out. Shake of the head.

Every so often, though, she spoke directly to me, for example:

... the truth, I admit, has more to do with middle-aged women's fear of their daughters. They despise us for the scruples and the patience we have had to learn from life. They have stolen from us the crude nerve of youth, and in their unmodulated vision of the human things whose subleties we have learnt to respect, they charge past us and rush out to fight, calling it politics. This is natural and right.But it is painful; and in the face of their scornful energy we become timid. (p. 60)

Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. The title is well applied. There are no heroes in this story: no victors. Everyone is vanquished. We are all demeaned in the process of trying to beat the enemy at their own game.

... beading ...

There must be a definite technique to shooting jewellery - I have fiddled for ages now and still cannot get it right. I think I would prefer to photograph them outside in the garden!

Cannot get the background right - this is too dull and white is too bright. I could not get the camera settings right. Flash is too unsubtle. Low light involves too much instability. Aaarrggghhh !!!

Whatever ...

I bought the beads for this- not the spacers; not the wire; not the clasps. Just the beads. I guess they cost me about $6. I designed what I wanted and its length. A friend made it for me. She charged $25.

Was that expensive?

... meets the criteria thus far ...

This is the Sony Cyber-shot DSC-H50. I've only noticed it today. Have mainly been looking at Canon's thus far. My current camera which I bought in the middle of 2006 is a Canon S3 IS. It has 12x optical and 6 mP. It has some image stabilisation but not sufficient and its low light shooting - which I do a lot of - is very grainey.

Choice this month reviewed what it calls "bridge" cameras (non-removeable zoom, large range, usually bigger and heavier) and rated the Canon S5 IS as Overall Top Performer. It's list price is $599 which is the same as this Sony. They look remarkably similar. The Sony has 15x optical, with a Zeiss lens. It has 9.1 mP with a 3" LCD. However, annoyingly it still only has JPG and I was hoping to have a choice of RAW, too.

Would treat myself to a course in manual photography, too. It would be nice to know what I am doing.

... does every little bit help ...

The Conservatorium of NSW is a magnificent building for a concert. Those participating kept emphasising how they were giving their time free - the musicians like James Morrison; the wait-staff from Gastronomy. All we had to do was dig deep and contribute towards a worthy cause: 702 Help for Burma and China.

It was fun to sit for three hours and watch an array of ABC 702 Radio announcers - rebadging notwithstanding, 2BL still pops into my head - strut their stuff on the stage in front of us: Richard Glover, James Valentine, Tony Delroy, Simon Marnie, Deborah Cameron, James O'Loghlin, and Adam Spencer were joined by standup comics Wil Anderson and Wendy Harmer. It was immensely entertaining and I got to indulge in my favourite sport - people watching. Similar to the videos I have seen over the years of The Goon Show being recorded. Radio is not a particularly visual medium - it is all in the imagination. Not sure how entertaining it was for the people listening in their living rooms.

The spot of the night was claimed by a toddler who wandered onto the Verbruggen Hall stage, around the back of the stage and made a b-line for the piano and microphone set up for Tim of The Whitlams. This elicited a response from Adam Spencer that showed his naturalness - he bounced over to the kid, picked him up in a massive bear hug and interviewed him until his embarrassed father made it to the stage. This guy has style.

However, the aim was to raise funds for the millions of people in both Burma and China who are enduring unspeakable deprivation due to natural disasters. We raised $65.000 - a drop in the bucket. That was the people present and the people listening to the 3 hour live radio broadcast. This sort of money-raising can only be done on a nation-wide basis with government one-for-one funding.

But the night was fun ...

... sniffing a petrol con ...

The leader of the Liberal Party thinks that the excise on petrol should be altered to reduce the price at the pump by about 5c per litre.

The leader of the Labor Party thinks that FuelWatch could deliver a reduction of 4c per litre at the pump.

Yesterday, I spent just over $150 on groceries at Coles and got a docket that will give me a reduction of 8c per litre at any Shell pump.

The price of petrol this weekend in Sydney is $1.59 per litre. There seems to be little reason why these three types of discount could not be cumulative - resulting in a 17c reduction and the price plumetting to $1.42 per litre.

Ann Enright : The Gathering

The human brain is like one of those large. wooden filing cabinets they have in the Australian Museum for their pinned collection of insects, beetles and spiders - lots of drawers and in each drawer, lots of compartments. The human brain is hard to pin down: it flits from compartment to compartemt. Enright uses this as a technique in her writing.

Half-way through this book, I listened to a conversation with Enright during the Sydney Writers' Festival. It helped me to complete the journey I had already commenced - reading the book out loud in my head. Is that possible? This book is a bit like having someone natter at you on the phone - she goes on and bloody on, jumping from one thought to another, without so much as a beg-yer-pardon. Keep up or sink, kid.

And even though the narrator Veronica is 39 and old enough to know better, she jumps around all over the place. And it is not just her thoughts that we are assailed with - its the thoughts of her numerous siblings, its the overheard conversations that might have been thoughts. It is like she cannot remember if she actually experienced an event, or saw the photos or has simply endured her family telling the same old yarns. They have become part of her own consciousness; her own recovered memories.

Once I grasped this, the story was engrossing; I went along with the flow and the style meant that the emotions and the trauma were available to me.The vignettes whilst Liam's body was in the front room exemplify Enright's style. My daughter reckons it helps to read this book in yer head with an Irish accent - it certainly helps to read it limply and flexibly and to roll with the punches. Enright does not hold back these punches. The vocabulary and the imagery are quite profane and worthy of the gutter at times. But it fairly rockets along.

I was troubled by the scene at Ada's where 8 year-old Veronica thinks she saw 9 year-old Liam with his hands in Lamb Nugent's flies - not sure why the plural. My troubles were because I kept thinking that I was being led to believe that Liam did not mind this; that Liam may have instigated this. And then I thought of the 10 year-old indigenous girl from Queensland who somehow encouraged all those teenagers to have sex with her. How can anyone of that age give consent for something like this? Yet there was not a hint that Liam was homosexual as an adult - the opposite in fact. This confused me a bit.

But I loved the characters: Mammy who could never remember her own children (Hello, Mammy I said to give her a clue!); Grandma Ada. who was desired by Nugent but who loved Charlie.

This is a tumultous book peopled with offensive people  but with real people. It is not so much stream-of-consciousness. It is more like having a tape-recorder in a busy city and cutting and splicing the conversations together.

I came to like it very much, indeed.