it's hip to be a square

I WENT TO A MEDIEVAL GATHERING YESTERDAY.

It was held in the small, green, tree-bordered courtyard of an old highschool. Forty or so people were there, ranging from two to what I imagine was early fifties, in a variety of medieval garb, much of it clumsily made. I walked up with much trepidation to meet a friend there who was a member of the society, and everyone was very approachable. I hadn't any garb myself, but there was a pile of dresses and tunics and things, most very simple, on a picnic table to rummage through and loan for the day. I had much fun trying these on, and women came up to me a few times; plump mothers, girls my own age, etc, clucking and saying: see, this looks lovely, now, that looks nice. I went through a few changes, starting off with a very plain grey-green dress with a quite charming little vest looped protectively over my arm, only to be gently told that it was a bodice and bodices don't go with that style of dress.
I discovered a light purple dress and leapt upon it. Drifitng about the piles was a long, rich purple velvet over dress with {gate?} sleeves and gold and red embroidery, and I slipped this on over the top, feeling very regal indeed. "That's actually out of period," Gee said, coming up to me and straightening it around my shoulders, "But it looks prreeettyy..."
An old woman with fly-away grey hair, in a brown over dress and whitish skirt and brown leather boots, the maker of many of the clothes, came over to me and appraised me, picking out a red dress from the pile: She told me that the red had originally been made to go under the dress, bringing out as it did the red and gold embroidery, and so I changed. The dress combo looked very nice indeed, my red hair complimenting it, but alas it was all too long and rather hot, and I found myself flinging it all off again and slipping back into the green dress.

I met a girl there, Arr. She was a newbie too, and we seemed to become immediate friends through our shared circumstance. We stuck together the entire time, playing with the littlies. Barefoot, with my hair unbound and the dress cinched at my waist, spinning on the grass and chasing the littlies with medieval people around me, I felt very much like I'd fallen into the Inkworld.

If I join this society, I'll need a dress.

There was only one girl in the sword fighting, and while Arr and I's main assailant, a little boy with a gnawed foam sword and a cloak, granted us a brief respite while he looked for food (biscuits, from the grey-haired dressmaker) and we lounged on the grass, watching the tourney, I fantasised about being a mysterious and uber-skilled fighter in mail and armour, half the size of those giant metal men, beating them all with deftness and speed. It's the Fox! they'd all murmur, while off the sparring pitch I'd be Lady Indi, juggler extrodinaire, tamer of little ones.

It was all good fun, and I loved how all these people were gathered here for that purpose only: to have fun, and not take it seriously to the excess.

These people have lives beyond this escape world. That is good.

So, Arr and I are thinking we might actually join! We'll see, shall we?

Autumn makes all possible.

Ess, my dear, a gift to make you happy.

I took a walk around the world to ease my troubled mind,
I left my body lying somewhere in the sands of time,
and I watched the world go through the dark side of the moon..
I feel there's nothing I can do.

These lyrics just came on, and I thought they were appropriate, so I thought I'd slot them in. They're from Kryptonite, by 3 Doors Down.

Now,

Indi hadn't the faintest idea of what to give her dear friend Ess on her 19th birthday, and this dismayed her. Shall she draw? Indi thought, but she didn't feel much like drawing, and had little inspiration. Shall she collect songs for Ess? But Indi hadn't a clue where to begin! Shall she write a ditty to her, like she did many moons ago for Tea? Or shall she ninja over to her house, and litter the space beyond her window with butterflies?

Indi mumbled and grumbled and wracked her brain. She shuffled her feet and walked along the world's streets, searching for inspiration.

Towns asked her, everywhere she went, intrigued by the girl with the autumn-red hair:
"What are you looking for, little foxling?" asked Budgewoi, sunny and blithe and determined to make Indi that way too.
"What ever is wrong, my dear red riding hood?" asked earthy Toukley, its op-shops twittering with concern.
"Why so down and distant, little imp?" asked busy Sydney, rather unaccustomed to little travellers, walking so slow.

"I can't find a gift for my friend Ess." replied Indi, "I can't find anything!"

"Why do you want to find Ess a gift?" asked the towns and cities, confused.

"Because it is Ess's birthday." said Indi.

"Her birthday!" Exclaimed the towns and cities.

They began to whisper to each other, and the trees and stones caught their whispers in passing on the breeze, and passed it on to all the hills and valleys, and soon the whole wide world was buzzing about Ess's Birthday, and Indi was wading through a growing tide of excitement.

Then, from far and wide, the towns and cities and beaches and bushlands began to send Indi little tokens for their beloved Ess, and Indi began to gather them up. From mines and oppurtunity stores, beaches and street corners, from strangers and childhoods long ago, came an array of treasures, each for Ess, because the world loved her very very much.

And Indi gathered them all together and put them in a little box. She wrapped the box in brown paper, and tied it with twine, and sat it on her table. She added a few offerings of her own, and kept them all together.

Every day, Indi looked at her gathered treasures, and every day, the world's minds flickered back to their offerings where they sat on Indi's table, waiting for Ess to discover them.

And one autumn day,

in the future, some time,

Indi will give them to Ess

and hope they make her very happy indeed.




With love.

phase 5

it is dark in the arena, save for the pulsing, grasping, jumping, swaying silhouttes of the figures pressed together on the floor. the walls rear up, shivering and shadowy with the blurred forms of the seated crowd. but we are the thunder shakers. we touch the lightening. we feel the throb through the floor. we move as a mass of bodies, writhing to the music, exhilarated. we ARE the music.

lights blare and fade and stream and rake. lasers scan the faces and send pulses into the shadowy abyss of the high, fathomless domed roof. the music is soaring. we are every note and every key. our hearts beat with the rhythm of the drums. our blood pumps with the guitar. our skin prickles with the piano. our spirit soars with their keening. our voices become the hum, the depths, the crescendo. we are one.

i hug ess. i clutch her. i grin and squeal and scream and cry. i hide my face for a second in my hands, disbelieving in the energy and possibility, and then tear those tingling fingers away lest i miss anything.

for a moment, these men are our gods.

a whirling cascade of tiny coloured fragments stream down from the darkness of the ceiling. we are dancing in a wind of butterflies. lights catch on flouro wings. hands stretch up, grasping, from us, the mass, like hairs bristling on a giant, trembling creature.

just a touch... just a brush...we are almost falling with the butterflies.

hectic

There just doesn't seem to be enough time for everything.

Is this life? Pressing on and on and on, dreaming of the day's end?

So many people come into the shop where I work, and when asked about how they are, they mostly comment that they are happy, because the day is almost over.

I don't get it. How can a person go everyday, wishing the day was almost over? Isn't that sad?

It feels like I'm barrelling down a hill. Day rapidly follows day, rolling into weeks, into months, into years. The problem is you can never go back up that hill and claim those yards left. It's all just going so FAST. And there is so much to do!

What is it we work towards? What are we waiting for? It's like people are rushing towards a climax, expending all their efforts on a goal. But Christmas comes, and people can't wait for it to be over, and the New Year comes, and people work on and on.

On and on and on.


I feel like I haven't enough time. All my hours are devoted to Uni, travelling to Uni, Uni homework, working and sporting commitments. I rush from Uni to work, but then what awaits for me at home? More work. Till I sleep and wake again, greeting more. I literally haven't time to learn Italian, read Harry Potter in French, write to Ess, take my dog for a walk.

When did this happen?

I like to be busy, but for the love of the Universe, this is getting a bit much, isn't it?

It's like I'm working for next week, when next week's just the same. It feels so.... ack.

This is why we must chose careers we love, so it doesn't feel like a chore.

The fact that the world revolves around money. That doesn't help.


Now, I better get back to work.


(To be fair, I have scheduled the latter part of Sunday off. So there's a bit of relief. But Sundays don't really help friends who are far away or who have other unavoidable commitments.)

first day

I started Uni today.

Got up. Had an hour to spare. Somehow managed to be rushing about in the last minute anyway. Went to station, heart thudding, stomach heaving a little for reasons I couldn't quite pinpoint - I WAS late for the train, I suppose.
Missed train due to ammended timetable. Was waiting for another when I realised there wasn't another coming. Had to run down to road to catch connecting bus. Realised the place bus was connecting me to was infact ten minutes drive away.
Drove to next station. Mayhem due to trackwork and work-goers. JUST got a park. Had to run for train. Sat heavily into seat, puffing.
Drew in my small notebook all the way to Hamilton. Got off, got on new train. Walked to Uni. Made first lecture with a minute to spare. Shuffled my way through the seats to reach Bri and Ta.
Compared timetables with Bri while lecturer set up. I'd done mine wrong - had another lecture after this one, and not one tomorrow. Dang. But good, 'cos it didn't mean I'd miss work.
Lecturer 15 minutes in announces he is finished. We have 45 minutes to spare. Takes us on a walk to our Tutorial room.
I LOVE THE DESIGN BUILDING.
Have tutes on every floor, including the loft. Loving the desks.
Met with Gee, walked with her. Has a completely different Tute timetable to me. Dang again.
Have Tutes with Bri and Ee.
An hour to spare. Walk around Campus. Give up (bag heavy) and relocate outside the nursing Theatre lecture hall, where my next lecture is. Draw.
Draw.
Gee comes in, sits in ampitheatre with me.
Rest of class surge through door. Meet up with Ee, Bri and Tara.
Mutter excitedly to Ee and Gee about this elective. We have to complete 65 full A3 size self-portraits in the next 13 weeks.
Yyyuup.
Getting a degree for drawing random things. Am excited.
(Starting to feel a little pressure now. Must get into academic swing.)
Walk to train station. Get on, off, on train. Off again.
Visit Salvo's at Morrisset. It is so different from the ram-shackle, cozy treasure-trove it was when Me, Ess, Inoue, Jay, Tea, Bea, Aim and others visited it a year or so ago for Tea's kayaking get-to-gether. Makes me a little sad.
Found a nice stripy shirt/jacket/cut-off-just-below-chest thingamabob. $4
Came home.
Ate lunch at 2. Unwrapped a darling little brown package with red string I found in my mail from Ess.
Love Ess.
A stone, two small booklets, and a lovely small old Italiano-Inglese dictionary. Green, palm-sized, old perfection.

Big day. Now I have work to do.
Wishing Ess, Tea and Jay were here with me. But am really glad they have found such great places to be anyway.