Friday, October 29, 2004

Return Of The Arch Nemesis

I have posted previously about my arch nemesis, the Evil Empire that is Sydney's City Rail rail network. This once efficient system is now a mishmash of cancelled, delayed or infuriatingly slow services, courtesy of a history of budget cuts and industrial action.

So I present with glee someone's take on the real Sydney rail network.

And... cue lawyers!

Button, Button, Who's Got The Button?

I'm in love with Project Button, a collaborative art project of amazing 1 inch buttons from artists all over the world. Very timely is the latest theme, Peace.

Oh, and the web design of the site is gorgeous too.

Spiritual Supermarket

Need more meaning in your life? Feeling a desire to connect with a greater truth?

Well get yourself over to Unusual Churches and Cults, the Church of Endora or the Cult Of The Dead Milkman may just help you to unscrew the inscrutable.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

My Baby Takes The Morning... Monorail!

I love the stylings and sheer optomisitc exhuberence of many of the designs at this Transportation Futuristics exhibition site. It's a little slow to load but worth the effort.

[Link via the wonderful Things Magazine]

Monday, October 25, 2004

Hello What?!

Now I have seen everything.

Scroll down on this page until you find the Hello Kitty product towards the bottom of the page.

Oh. My. God.

Friday, October 15, 2004

The Romance of Travel

I have always been addicted to the look of vintage travel ephemera - posters, tickets, menus, luggage labels etc. Especially those that date from the early decades of the twentieth century through to the 1950's.

I guess the appeal is more than just a love of the pure Art Deco 'machine-age' aesthetic that many of them have. It's also the great romantic notions of travels by cruiseliner, by overland train and by the early years of airplanes, and of travel when so much was exotic and unknown.

So it is with joy that I discovered this gallery of vintage luggage labels. Delightful.

Thursday, October 14, 2004


Recently I've been listening to teachings and doing meditations on impermanence, one of the more important teachings in Buddhism and an important part of the Buddhist course I have been doing.

Quite suddenly I've been presented with an opportunity to reflect on this at close range, to feel the emotional ebb and flow of how I respond to major change and importantly to see how different it feels. It looks like three people very close to me are all about to head off on paths that will take them away.

Today my good friend (and ex-boyfriend) Steven heads off to Brisbane to live. I'll miss him but most importantly I feel happy for him that he has decided to take his life by the horns, to leave the job he hated, and to make a positive step towards re-connecting with his family.

In about four weeks time my friend, and room mate, Narelle heads off to Canberra to live. It's a positive move for her career, she'll earn more and save more, and she'll be moving in with her best friend. So likewise, this is a great move for her.

Last week I heard that my close friend of 27 years has been offered a job in Korea for a minimum of two years. He's heading over with his girlfriend this weekend to see what Korea is like, to find out if his girlfriend will be able to work there, and then to ultimately make his decision. If he accepts he'll be gone by month end. My first reaction... "No, you can't!!".

However, it didn't take too much reflection for me to see the grasping, the attachment, the ego involved in my reaction. All three are moving towards great opportunities, exciting life experiences and opportunities for great personal growth. So I'm at peace.

Frankly, I've surprised myself. A year ago I would be on a depressive spiral, feeling overwhelmed by these friends moving away, by having to find a new room mate, by fears of loneliness. It seems that I'm changing too.

Saturday, October 09, 2004

Cry Boy Cry

While I was out this morning I picked up a copy of a 'best of' Jimmy Somerville CD (from the Bronski Beat and The Communards era) and have been listening to Jimmy's sweet falsetto ever since.

From the bitter sweet start of "Small Town Boy" I'm suddenly 19 again, lying on Gary's bed in his cold and dingy bedroom while he tells me what it's like to be young and queer in his small home town in England, and that he loves me. Gary had a 12" vinyl single which he would play over and over again and would sometimes cry along with. I'm so in love with him I feel electrified.

Fast forward a couple of years and a few tracks on the CD and Gary has moved on to be with someone else. I'm single, fairly happy most of time, and in particular I'm dancing my heart out at a bar called the Mars Bar in my old home town of Adelaide while Jimmy is singing "Tell Me Why". Can you tell me whyyyyyyy? It's likely that I'm also trying for the thousandth unsuccessful time to get my big unrequited crush Steve to dance with me. (RIP sweetie, I miss you and I'm sorry that I missed your passing.) Some men just won't dance, no matter how sweetly you ask them.

So it has been a bitter sweet afternoon. I've smiled a lot and cried a little. I've thought of past loves and lost friends, but I've also remembered transcendant nights on the dancefloor and big great loves. Thanks Jimmy, I owe you one.