thursday and i'm tired and it's dark. just finished teaching, feeling all abuzz, workshopping my performance in my head as i climb the stairs from the quad to the library. a guy next to me grumbles: "too many stairs. 108." i'm impressed that he has counted them - the stairs i climb on most days. he tells me it's due to boredom.
it's a nice interruption to my thoughts. we part ways. i climb more stairs towards my desk. i count 43. that's 151 steps on my journey to this desk, chair, computer, headspace.
is each one a step or a stair? it seems it's a step, a stair being the entire block of steps. well that's what one dictionary tells me. and now i can't remember if he said steps or stairs. i may have misquoted. ah, technicalities. it's been an afternoon of those.
we talked about religions: islamic, christian and jewish. too much time spent on clarifying distinctions between them. and then a slightly dodgy discussion on Islamic 'veiling' practices. and then time was up before i fully redeemed the conversation. or maybe that's not my job anyway. sigh. why the fuck am i teaching this, stressing about this, reading up on this? i sometimes forget i'm just a lowly tutor. give me my money so i can go and get pissed. oh yeah, i'm supposed to be writing a thesis. all the more reason to get pissed.
and now i have 2 weeks without classes and readings and marking. 2 weeks of thesis-only, of making up for the last 3 weeks of not writing very much. it all starts tomorrow. 151 steps a day.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
creation everywhere blossoms
A quote to ponder. Or rather, a quote that I like and currently ponder.
A typewriter, some paper, and a little leisure: this little world would, for example, circumscribe the site in which art can be born. But housing, clothing, housework, cooking, and an infinite number of rural, urban, family, or amical activities, the multiple forms of professional work, are also the ground on which creation everywhere blossoms. Daily life is scattered with marvels, a froth on the long rhythms of language and history that is as dazzling as that of writers and artists. Lacking proper names, all kinds of language give birth to these ephemeral celebrations that surge up, disappear, and return.
Michel de Certeau, Culture in the Plural, p142
A typewriter, some paper, and a little leisure: this little world would, for example, circumscribe the site in which art can be born. But housing, clothing, housework, cooking, and an infinite number of rural, urban, family, or amical activities, the multiple forms of professional work, are also the ground on which creation everywhere blossoms. Daily life is scattered with marvels, a froth on the long rhythms of language and history that is as dazzling as that of writers and artists. Lacking proper names, all kinds of language give birth to these ephemeral celebrations that surge up, disappear, and return.
Michel de Certeau, Culture in the Plural, p142
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
melancholic, tired, uncertain
this morning i tidied my room. i turned over the mattress, changed the sheets, put away clothes, swept the floor, re-arranged a few things. it didn't make me feel much better.
friday fatigue has taken hold. i'm down on myself for not getting enough sleep, not taking care of myself, not being organised, not managing my time more efficiently. i forever chase my own tail.
i yearn for distraction. polish guy said he'd call today, so i wait for my phone to vibrate. and i try to resist seeking happiness through him or any other. i've been wondering what paris is doing today. tempted to message him, despite my concerns. but i can't really reign in these curious thoughts. i think i just want to feel like the centre of someone's world. even for just an hour or so, to tide me over.
sarah blasko's xanadu is on high rotation these past few days. seems to capture something in how i'm feeling. a bit lost. a bit hopeful.
last night i saw cheri. not a great film, but a great story. i'm sure i'd get more from the books. lea is quite an amazing character. she seems the perfect role model for me right now. a person who accepts and deals with the economies of love, passion, ageing. at the centre of her story (and her affair) is her resilience, her inability to ever slide into the role of victim, despite her losses. rather, she buys herself an emerald ring. she asks "is there anything in the world more wonderful than a bed all to yourself?"
on this point my cinema buddy agrees. but i cannot. i obviously have some way to go before finding my inner courtesan.
friday fatigue has taken hold. i'm down on myself for not getting enough sleep, not taking care of myself, not being organised, not managing my time more efficiently. i forever chase my own tail.
i yearn for distraction. polish guy said he'd call today, so i wait for my phone to vibrate. and i try to resist seeking happiness through him or any other. i've been wondering what paris is doing today. tempted to message him, despite my concerns. but i can't really reign in these curious thoughts. i think i just want to feel like the centre of someone's world. even for just an hour or so, to tide me over.
sarah blasko's xanadu is on high rotation these past few days. seems to capture something in how i'm feeling. a bit lost. a bit hopeful.
last night i saw cheri. not a great film, but a great story. i'm sure i'd get more from the books. lea is quite an amazing character. she seems the perfect role model for me right now. a person who accepts and deals with the economies of love, passion, ageing. at the centre of her story (and her affair) is her resilience, her inability to ever slide into the role of victim, despite her losses. rather, she buys herself an emerald ring. she asks "is there anything in the world more wonderful than a bed all to yourself?"
on this point my cinema buddy agrees. but i cannot. i obviously have some way to go before finding my inner courtesan.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
coffee break
between the lecture and the tutorial i post a birthday present to my niece, i make coffee, i eat cake, i check email, i read over the latest media sex scandal. i arrange my books and papers in a nice pile to take to the tute (because i know it will be 5 before i know it).
i spent almost a week in melbourne, returned yesterday, adjusting now to my 'real' life of home and study and teaching. melbourne's winter air cleared my head nicely. as did the pleasant food, conversation, and fun times. and the movies.
i was thinking of writing something about my newfound reluctance to date men. i still haven't been on that date (he got sick, then i went away) and was uncertain about contacting him right away. but just now my phone vibrates and i dash off to the soundproof room.
it's the polish man i gave my number to before i went away. he wants to meet up, 'take a walk' or have coffee/lunch. i now have a sunday afternoon commitment. i should stop giving my number to strange men. though who knows, it could be fun.
it's already 10 to 5. time to face students and pretend to be a competent tutor.
i spent almost a week in melbourne, returned yesterday, adjusting now to my 'real' life of home and study and teaching. melbourne's winter air cleared my head nicely. as did the pleasant food, conversation, and fun times. and the movies.
i was thinking of writing something about my newfound reluctance to date men. i still haven't been on that date (he got sick, then i went away) and was uncertain about contacting him right away. but just now my phone vibrates and i dash off to the soundproof room.
it's the polish man i gave my number to before i went away. he wants to meet up, 'take a walk' or have coffee/lunch. i now have a sunday afternoon commitment. i should stop giving my number to strange men. though who knows, it could be fun.
it's already 10 to 5. time to face students and pretend to be a competent tutor.
Friday, July 10, 2009
"my pillow is the cash register"
... is a comment i overheard today, walking from the library to the pool. i don't understand, but immediately i thought of sex. maybe because i spend my days writing about sex. and because i'm not having any.
yesterday i took a day off. i cooked and cleaned and listened to music loudly. it was nice. i'm starting to appreciate my need to slow down, take care, adjust to these recent changes.
i've been a bit of a recluse but i think that's okay. i made some attempts to see friends this week, though most people were busy. everything seemed to become a tentative plan for next week. i'm not sure i'll fit everything in.
jessie returns next week. jess comes up from melbourne to stay. one of my supervisors returns and wants to meet. oh, and i have a date. i'm not sure why i did that, but i guess i'm just testing the water or something. i partially blame winter loneliness. a stupid time of the year to break up (though i've done this twice now).
did a bit of thesis writing today and not feeling too lost in it all, after my day of respite. so will head home shortly with my books and papers and grand plans to make more words.
yesterday i took a day off. i cooked and cleaned and listened to music loudly. it was nice. i'm starting to appreciate my need to slow down, take care, adjust to these recent changes.
i've been a bit of a recluse but i think that's okay. i made some attempts to see friends this week, though most people were busy. everything seemed to become a tentative plan for next week. i'm not sure i'll fit everything in.
jessie returns next week. jess comes up from melbourne to stay. one of my supervisors returns and wants to meet. oh, and i have a date. i'm not sure why i did that, but i guess i'm just testing the water or something. i partially blame winter loneliness. a stupid time of the year to break up (though i've done this twice now).
did a bit of thesis writing today and not feeling too lost in it all, after my day of respite. so will head home shortly with my books and papers and grand plans to make more words.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
the break
once again i fall off the blog cart.
at times i get cynical, resentful and suspicious of this blogging practice. particularly in times of change, when i need to withdraw from this leaky, unrehearsed expression of self. and recently there have been changes.
i write now as a 'single' person. 'break-up' seems the wrong term to use for this. we're still friends. it was sad for a day or so, but now it's good. we like being friends. i guess our relationship (which continues despite 'breaking-up') has always been an exercise of transformation. and this is our 'friend' stage. not that this friendship is comparable to most others i enjoy. there's a history and an intimate bond that is as yet unbroken. it's nice. i'm comfortable.
the future feels more uncertain, which i like. i feel more involved in my role as student/researcher. having no need to feed back, touch base, rekindle, or check my performance as boyfriend, i have more time. it's a relief, for now. though i hope there's still opportunity to 'check-in' and see my self from another's perspective, from time to time. there's always a fear of insanity in doing what i'm doing. a caring voice from outside the machine seems necessary.
but for the moment it feels like i'm doing what i need to be doing. i find myself reading Lyotard on narratives, and distinctions between science and knowledge. according to Jean-Francois, knowledge (as know-how, knowing how to live, and knowing how to listen) is much more than science (finding truth statements). so scientific arguments for knowledge (in this case, young people's need for STI knowledge) do not stick. knowledge, as narrative, is about knowing how to get by in the culture/s you exist in.
and what better time to question knowledge than whilst ending a 4 year relationship. there's no evidence that this affair cannot last, and no measurability to this way of being. but there's a knowing of when to let go. a knowledge outside of certainty. a savoir-faire beyond the notion of 'risk'.
at times i get cynical, resentful and suspicious of this blogging practice. particularly in times of change, when i need to withdraw from this leaky, unrehearsed expression of self. and recently there have been changes.
i write now as a 'single' person. 'break-up' seems the wrong term to use for this. we're still friends. it was sad for a day or so, but now it's good. we like being friends. i guess our relationship (which continues despite 'breaking-up') has always been an exercise of transformation. and this is our 'friend' stage. not that this friendship is comparable to most others i enjoy. there's a history and an intimate bond that is as yet unbroken. it's nice. i'm comfortable.
the future feels more uncertain, which i like. i feel more involved in my role as student/researcher. having no need to feed back, touch base, rekindle, or check my performance as boyfriend, i have more time. it's a relief, for now. though i hope there's still opportunity to 'check-in' and see my self from another's perspective, from time to time. there's always a fear of insanity in doing what i'm doing. a caring voice from outside the machine seems necessary.
but for the moment it feels like i'm doing what i need to be doing. i find myself reading Lyotard on narratives, and distinctions between science and knowledge. according to Jean-Francois, knowledge (as know-how, knowing how to live, and knowing how to listen) is much more than science (finding truth statements). so scientific arguments for knowledge (in this case, young people's need for STI knowledge) do not stick. knowledge, as narrative, is about knowing how to get by in the culture/s you exist in.
and what better time to question knowledge than whilst ending a 4 year relationship. there's no evidence that this affair cannot last, and no measurability to this way of being. but there's a knowing of when to let go. a knowledge outside of certainty. a savoir-faire beyond the notion of 'risk'.
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