It’s a strange dreamy process, coming home. Especially when it takes 9 months to get there. I’ve been reflecting on the storm of feelings that have been bombarding me since I got back, and doing some writing… something may come of it. Let me know if you want to read it.
Meanwhile, I’ve been hanging out with these amazing friends of mine, and though so many years have passed it feels as if it was just last week that I saw them last. It’s such a solid feeling, to have known and loved people for a long time, and I really missed that when I lived in scotland.
My thoughts are still too nebulous to condense into a tumblr entry. Wrinkles, babies, new buildings here and old favourites gone, the trees are taller - much taller, my friends have different teeth and different hair and new children (and some of their kids are now sending me emails), and my parents have a new dog. Perth is really expensive, busking in Freo isn’t as sweet as it used to be, and Junkadelic (a community arts percussion group I was part of for a long time) is having its 10th anniversary next week. Holy shit.
It’s funny the things that other people remember. Charlotte’s memory is astonishing. She remembers an embarassing array of things, from when we lived together in 2000 and 2001… and she’s not afraid to remind me! Brad and Charlotte and I were all in the same room for the first time since 2001 (or was it 2002?) and the universe didn’t explode. But it was amazing, to think about the years and distance travelled in those years…
We drove down south in the New Year, after playing a show with the fabulous Rumskull. More on that later. But packed up a sleepy James and Joey and drove down to Denmark, against the flow of the NYE holidayers. It was a hot day which turned abruptly cold when we reached Mt Barker and turned off the highway… Being in the ghostly tall Karri again… Watching the rough Southern Ocean batter the granite rocks at Williams Bay… Walking with Mel and Luca around the big bushfire from last November watching the new shoots burst through blackened trunks, breathing in the smell of ash and eucalyptus… I even got a job making coffee for a few hours at the Denmark Art Markets before we headed north to stay at Olly’s place in Donnelly River, where the kangaroos and emus are so tame that they steal food from your table.