petit chien

I’d like a dog. I can’t have one. But now I have this little guy, sitting in my room, looking at me expectantly.

Dog on chair, Sal Cooper.


You know you’ve hit the big time when…

…you’re on a wine bottle label…

What could be more fitting for the hundredth entry on lyttel fish big pond, than a celebratory bubbly? It gives a whole new meaning to ‘…I’m all over that bottle of bubbles…’

To be honest, there’s not much more I can say about this. What should one say when presented with a bottle of wine with their picture on it?

Opening night is looming, Jacqueline has completely taken over my life with her flouncy and very melodramatic ways. There is a lot of rehearsing, a lot of practising of lines on the drive to and from school (I’m not even going to think about what the other drivers think…it IS impossible to be Jacqueline without a lot of gesturing and raised eyebrows…).

Her absence filled the world

Big day in the city. Cup of tea on pretty china. A children’s bookshop. William Kentridge. Bliss.

William Kentridge was born in South Africa and has conquered the world of stop-motion films of charcoal drawings. I spent almost 3 hours at ACMI this afternoon, mesmerised by moving images of charcoal on paper. William Kentridge is passionate about politics and society and weight and want, and yet has such a poetic and magical take on life. The hours and labour behind each of his films are not felt as each work takes on a life of its own and dances on the screen. He deals with weighty subject matter and yet, in the end, I feel that he is celebrating life and human nature. There are clever people walking amongst us. William Kentridge is one of them.

Rock ‘n’ roll

 Tonight I went to the Comedy Club late session. I have connections….well, one connection…and with a flash of the Comedy Festival fancy-pants ticket thing, we by-passed the very long queue down Swanston Street into the Hi Fi, where we were ushered into the performers’ bar. Very rock and roll. When it came time for the performance, we followed the other cool hipster comedy type people in through the performers’ entrance to a great seat right in front of the stage. Well, actually, not right in front, thankfully, because right in front tends to mean you are in the danger zone where live comedy is concerned…and when it is slapstick…there is no end to the water, prosthetic limbs, soft toys, and catapulting people that might come your way. We sat just over to the side of the front of the stage. Close, but not close enough to risk contact.

So you think you can slapstick was a degustation of the comedic talent on show in the festival…a variety show, if you will. Very, very funny. And MCed by Hannah Gadsby, a very very funny woman from Tasmania originally…there’s some pretty good things coming from Tasmania…James Boag beer, the Granny Smith apple, Princess Mary, amongst other things…but I digress…Hannah Gadsby. Very clever, very dry, very good.

Very late. Very tired. I reckon I could channel some of the slapstick into the French farce…it’s about timing…

Milky Joe’s

Milky Joe’s is new. It’s a hole in the wall coffee place in Elsternwick on the way to the train station. They celebrated their lunar anniversary yesterday, as in one month. I pointed out that it was a full moon anniversary. The barista and the owner both stopped and thought about that for a moment. And then they just nodded. The coffee was good.

the orchestration of available light

I didn’t come up with that phrase, the orchestration of available light, but I wish I had. I read it today and for whatever reason, it resonated with me. I keep picking it up and turning it over and it is growing in its potential in my mind. It sounds magnificent…as though there is wonder to be had from whatever you have at your disposal. And perhaps that is it. Or perhaps it is the suggestion of timing that I like. It’s not about waiting for the right moment, but about appreciating the moment as it is presented to you and orchestrating wonderment in spite of…or perhaps because of what is being offered.