MONA first visit

Shortly I’ll be able to visit MONA for free as a tassie-an I presume.

As for now, I purchased a ‘posh-pit’ ticket, still fragile from a cold and realised while it was now Thursday, Monday was still only days back


We’d meant to make MOFO in January until other things prioritised – i guess i need to make the next blog entry about friends alcohol-love .. yet ‘something happened’

I needed to know about this dude Marie had told me about who afforded the whole place through gambling, so early in the morning before dawn i read about him by Richard Flanagan in The Monthly … which got me reading another article that came up just now in  searching for it; by Amanda Lohrey, which mentions DW’s autobiography A Bone of Fact (Picador; $55).   I read the latter article instinctively as I’d earlier read – probably after MONA visit, her article “Tasmania Got Gamed” reviewing James Boyce’s book Lucky Streak ( i’d nearly gone to a book opening Tuesday but was coughing etc madly ) which now means i need to subscribe to read more Monthly.  Some point in all that I read Richard Flanagan from December 2015 in The Mercury’s Talking Point

Yet Mark Opitz’s Sophisto-Punk (2012), ‘as told to Luke Wallis and Jeff Jenkins’ calls; as does Jesse Fink’s The Youngs (2013) about ACDC .. both sourced from a bargain bin at the central Post Office yet even for that price they came into the right hands… mine x : one of them has already thanked me


I foregoed the canapes of the posh pit on the way back to sit at the front slightly corresponding with the gent that had been on the left side on the way over .. the breeze was gentle and velvet and the rain had gone just leaving its trails … taking my orange juice glass back as i disembarkt

While I cant remember exactly where i read ‘he was a cicada of a man’ or some such, which i really enjoyed, when i searched for it I found the cicada puzzle

Icehouse tomorrow – first time in about thirty years !    Might as well read the day away before it as the present pile of books is getting bigger and also the local newsagent might have the current Monthly lol











Post-Bowie-Me now/then


Collage from cutting up Uncut Bowie

While I actively social media-rised with Bowie fans after the shock of 9/11 woke me up to that was where they were living, and I read his published reaction, my years of total Bowie worship were only remembered by relatives laffing at a aunt’s 90th birthday about how i couldnt talk about anything else; and the social media put me in the situation of reading how others were in the same boat.


Then he died; creating an art-form of it.   I’d already moved back to the city due to the effect of the Bowie Melbourne Symposium; but was horrified looking from the outside at the extent of alcohol love amongst my friends.


So I’ve just left the rental where I got the phone call; SMA told me to sit down; i said i dont need to you’re going to tell me either a nuclear bom has hit Pari or Bowie died.  I’d already run home from after watchin the Lazarus video on pub wifi with headphones on, freaked out as instead of him looking at a pen, I’d visualised a junkie hitting the needle to get the air out; but at home lisnin to the music it enveloped me in sound magic.



I’m off the mainland; surrounded by ‘evergreens’ and seemingly looking back on fifty years in a place i never wanted to be, living a life accordingly; full of now-learnt ‘grace’.

( re-starting blog; these first two posts are from a while back )