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aretharre season

It’s aretharre season, when the northwest wind comes howling down and mucks around in our heads. it just started last week, and the island on which I live is perched at the north end of town. it is rapidly turning into a dustbowl, so I am turning into a refugee and heading south for holidays. just for a week. meanwhile sydney seems to be catching our dust storms – whoever’s in charge of the wind must be trying to say a word or two to those city folk.


Sydney Dust Strom
Originally uploaded by tomhide


Never thought doomsday would look so pretty. seriously, is anyone else enjoying the apocalyptic media coverage? it’s only a little dust storm. you get used to ’em.

If the wind doesn’t get you, the saturn-uranus opposition will. Another month of this and I will go up there myself and take to those damn planets with a crowbar. I think it’s starting to shift though. Half my friends are quitting their jobs this week and I seem to be getting over the notion of finding one. Freelancing is a frustrating way to make a living, and the housing crisis here means I will eventually be pushed into getting a more reliable income – but I’m still hoping that this can be done without a) giving up being a full-time writer, b) leaving alice or c) moving back into my car.

if anyone has a spare reliable income, do let me know.

instead i get to do bizarre things for a less-than-living. for example, yesterday morning I got up in the dark and went to stand in the bush and recite poetry while the sun came up, then walk up and down a hill. all for a forthcoming documentary. i am glad i don’t work in television. i wasn’t born for early starts, repeating myself, and trying not to roll my eyes at cameras. as if it wasn’t challenging enough, aretharre kept messing with the radio mic.

i never should have watched dirty dancing on the weekend. she’s like the wind was evidently too much taunting.