Saturday. I decided Saturday would be the day to center myself. Hacky sack in the backyard, and literal running from one train station to another, as I did a sudden massive trail run (for me). It's been a pretty messy week in some ways, and ideal in other,s as I sought to work some stuff out. So I moved, baked, partied, waffled, and took photographs until I didn't feel as off-balance as I did. And it always helps that I have great friends - you guys keep me happy and loved, on the straight and narrow.
Thoughts: the idea that a good coffee can set the tone of your day is probably false. It can probably set the tone for the hour that you have it. It can give you a good story.
I’ve been drinking soy coffee for the past few days, and you know, it ain’t half bad. It makes for a change from that mucus-like aftertaste you get with regular milk.
Thinking about muscle memory. Your brain is a muscle. Thinking about repetition, and mental events, doing things over and over again.
“Every time you have a thought, the biochemical/electromagnetic resistance along the pathway carrying that thought is reduced. It is like trying to clear a path through a forest. The first time is a strugglebecause you have to fight your way through the undergrowth, The second time you travel that way will be easier because of the clearing you did on your first journey. The more times you travel that path, the less resistance there will be, until, after many repetitions, you have a wide, smooth track that requires little or no clearing. A similar function occurs in your brain: the more you repeat patterns or maps of thought, the less resistance there is to them. Therefore, and of greater significance, repetition in itself increases the probability of repetition. In other words, the more times a ‘mental event’ happens, the more likely it is to happen again.”
Taken from a book, can’t recall any titles or author, unfortunately. Hope you’re all having a nice week. I’ll be wandering the warm streets, camera in hand.
We checked out Nai Palm (of Hiatus Kaiyote fame) at the Workers Club last night. Being the incredibly punctual and naive people, J and I turned up when it said doors open. This does not equate to set times.
So we were left with some time to kill, and wandered around Collingwood in the last hours of Melbourne sun, camera in hand. I got a cone of caramel, marmalade and chocolate chip gelato, and it was the happiest 15 minutes of my day. You can see me cosying up to a giant cat mural with said cone.
It felt really great to take a break from other forms of creating, and concentrate on just seeing.
Nai Palm’s performance was beautiful, of course. She has the vocal equivalent of a Cirque Du Soleil performer’s flexibility. The opening act, Owen Rabbit, felt raw and honest. It made me feel pretty inspired to start writing songs again. More music activities this year, yeah. The night ended with wild dancing, boogie conversations, and a surprise phone call, which left me in wonder at the synchronicity in my life. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I feel strangely sure.
Ninth and last picture courtesy of the shutter-insect Jeff.