I should get extra points for this.

In lieu of the 26km Coast Trek, Caroline and I went for the next leg of my Harbour Walk yesterday. We saw wildlife, swam in the ocean, and soaked up the sun. I will write more and post pictures tomorrow... when I'm gloriously unemployed.

There's an App for that.

I downloaded a ‘Learn Japanese!’ app recently of which I’ve completed the first four lessons. The CDs we’ve been listening to are good up to a point, but seem to move too quickly when you don’t have any visual reference points. It’s difficult to even pick out the pronunciation sometimes, without being able to actually see the word and get a feel for how things are put together. Knowing how to say a full sentence by rote is very different to understanding how the sentence is put together and how the words work individually within it. The App is good for this – I now understand about sentence particles, and how the Japanese avoid pronouns. Instead of saying ‘I eat’ or ‘he eats’ or ‘they eat’, you just say ‘eat’ and then use context to figure out who you mean. Sounds a bit weird but I guess it works.

Our big coast trek from Bundeena to Otford was supposed to be this weekend, but after all the coordination there were no campsites left when I called to book. Of course. I feel a bit stupid for having left it so late but it was a backhanded blessing, in a way, what with the weather being so unbearable. The main problem is that we can’t find another weekend to do it until April at the earliest, so we’ll need to get it sorted out quickly otherwise we’ll have the other extreme and it’ll be too cold.

Next weekend, however, is Tasmania. Tasmania!

All delighted people, raise your hands

I am not a good post-gig conversationalist. Sometimes there are no words. On small, miraculous occasion, you will see a show that is immeasurably bigger than you are. All I can do in those moments is awkwardly cling to myself and soak up the words of others. Lost in a kind of afterglow where the shocks still travel through my veins in tiny shudders, a sonic minefield in what is left of the brain, entire galaxies fusing almost imperceptibly into my DNA. I still feel them there. I will never be the same again. Changed in ways we can't yet perceive, besides the double skip of a heart and an insatiable desire to get back into the spaceship.

Picture lovingly borrowed from Lucyparakhina via Fasterlouder. I hope she doesn't mind.

It's Sufjan Stevens Day!

Howdy folks! Here is a post completely unrelated to the Project, but just thought I'd keep you updated on my movements. Had two gigs in two days with Dusker - the first was a band comp in which we won our heat, and if we win the whole thing we get a 5-day recording package in a studio (which would be totally amazing, since we're recording anyway with money we don't have). The second was an Australia Day gig in Wollongong, our first gig down there, and it was pretty fun. It's not every gig you get to go to the beach immediately afterwards. Ben learnt how to bodysurf and I nearly drowned. Good times, good times.


And tonight: Sufjan Stevens at the Opera House! One of the last great gods on this musical throne I revere that I've never seen live. The realisation of this momentus occasion is slowly starting to push through the fatigue. It's been so hot the last week or so that sleep is something I have only a vague recollection of experiencing.

Guess it doesn't matter so much when as of next Tuesday I'm going to be unemployed...

Trublood (You Need It More Than I Do)

I have just done a chart of my songwriting progress, and it's a bit sketchy. I've managed to write eight songs in the past six months (well, calling "Sausages" a song is a bit rich) but as impressive as that may sound, I am still four songs short. I will catch up, eventually. There are many factors and I am slowly trying to address them.

Here is song Number 8, or rather, song Number 4 in the "Songs About Challenges" category: Trublood (You Need It More Than I Do). Can you guess which challenge it is about? Because I'm all about subtley, you know. I hope HBO don't sue my ass for pulling these dodgy samples off youtube.

Trublood (You Need It More Than I Do) by duskerdee

[I know y'all are vampires and all, but you don't have to be such bitches about it]

I've got 8 litres of the good stuff
And you can share it 'coz I've got enough
How 'bout I fill a coupla bags for you?
We're hoping it'll make you feel brand new

You need it more than I do
You need it more than I do
You need it more than I do
You need it more than I do

I got a bad ass bruise from when I gave
My arm was black and blue for several days
But that won't stop me doing it again
Because I got a Mars Bar at the end

You need it more than I do
You need it more than I do
You need it more than I do
You need it more than I do

[One caveat, gentlemen. If you drain her completely, that's the last faerie blood you'll ever drink.
Mmm, good point.]

Halfway Mark

Wow, it's amazing what you can achieve in six lousy months, eh? And also, how many times you can fail at something, how many epiphanies you can have, how many internal arguments you can have with yourself, how many experiences you can fit in, and how many times you can manage to ruin dinner.

I will be more comprehensive in a separate post, but I have a lot to do today and I must run with it while I'm actually motivated. So much to do, so little time!

In the meantime, I'm still learning to use my iPhone and am hoping that this will help me document the upcoming 6 months a little better.

Woah, Bruno!

Third time lucky…

This is Bruno. He’s 25 years old, an Aquarian and loves reading crime novels by the fireside, almost as much as he loves carrots.

He is also the hugest horse I have ever seen in my life. I practically needed an oxygen tank up there. Despite his stature, he was very patient with me and didn’t take too much advantage of my reluctance to kick him. Ben had a lovely young lad named Benny who liked digging in the dirt. Together we were determined to be wrangling cattle and thundering across desert plains hollering “yee-haw!” in under an hour. No sweat.

Walking was probably a good place to start though, so first we did some circuits of the arena, getting a feel for the way the horses moved and attempting to steer them. The sensation was oddly familiar and yet completely foreign – as if I felt like I knew exactly what to do, but putting it into practice proved the opposite. I was continually reprimanded for looking down at the horse instead of straight ahead, and not keeping my heels down, which it felt so unnatural to do. And yet I kept thinking ‘I’m totally down with this. I just need to yell ‘yaa!’ and gallop off into the sunset’. Sometimes I think my brain doesn’t really consult with itself.

We took turns at trotting. Of course by ‘trotting’, I mean something more like ‘gracelessly bouncing’. Chanting “up down up down” was apparently the key, but chanting quickly became less of a priority when up against clinging on for dear life. Each time, I would be sure to have it under control. Then Bruno would trot, and I’d maybe manage a couple of “up downs”, and then the rhythm wouldn’t match up. That’s when the teeth started rattling and the weight started shifting and an unsuspecting sense of alarm kicked in. So we’d stop, and I’d catch my breath and steady the nerves, and once again, my brain would immediately and conveniently forget that I couldn’t trot. Yeah! Let’s do this! And off we go again, with the same result. I think I’m regressing. Nevertheless – fun! What beautiful creatures horses are.

We did this for a while, then went back to walking and steering, and then the hour was over. Just like that. We walked back to the stables and put Bruno and Benny to bed. It all went by so quickly, by the end of the day it was almost as if we’d never been horse riding at all. Then I woke up this morning, and my thighs reminded me. Hello thighs…