The art of (my) gentle revolution

1. Start dancing lessons

2. Practice self control (particularly as regards eating, spending, wasting and watching)

3. Bake a Pie

4. Start learning French

5. Save money

6. Read at least half of  the books currently unread on my shelf and do not purchase new ones until that has happened (important caveat, books can be purhased for me)

7. Watch less tv

8. Take more chances

9. Give one night a week to writing

10. Walk daily

11. Talk less and listen more

12. Be increasingly comfortable around new people

13. Sing frequently

14. Take more photos

15. Catch a barramundi

16. Do not use cynicism as a crutch

17. Throw out one thing a month

18. Buy clothing and footwear only from vintage/recycled shops where possible

19. Understand what it means to grow up

20. Eat at this allegedly fantastic Japanese place my mate Brad went mental over

21. Make my blog look a bit nicer

22. Judge less

23. Send more postcards, inc’ to people I don’t know

24. Talk to people I recognise instead of acting like I don’t see them

25. Spend more time chatting with my Grandma

26. Buy film for my polaroid and use it

27. Go out dancing at least once a month

28. Develop less irritating and useless crushes

29. Attempt to make dolma

30. Learn to play that Turin Brakes song/ any song on guitar

31. Figure out how to get around hating on church in general

32. Get to know family I don’t keep in touch with

33. Jump out of a plane

34. Take an interest in the world both around me and across oceans and not hide from the truth of it

35. Talk to strangers

36. Knit things

37. Be kind

“God help us to change. To change ourselves and to

change our world. To know the need for it.

To deal with the pain of it. To feel the joy of it.

To undertake the journey without understanding the destination.

The art of gentle revolution.


Michael Leunig.

Tastes like ageing

Today was my birthday.

All day.

I awoke to find an enchanting flock of origami cranes hanging from the dining room ceiling. Nearby, a paper elephant and peacock offered me birthday messages.

Chatty paper birthday origami

I had breakfast with friends and the dude at the cafe gave me a birthday slice of tart for freesies.

I did some birthday study and was obviously channelling birthday wizard power ’cause I totally kicked an essays ass. I then went birthday op shopping and scored some birthday bargains. Then I came home to find birthday flowers and birthday tea!

Birthday flowers on not so birthday tv

Terrible birthday pop music was played, enjoyed and danced to. I went for a birthday walk and felt the birthday sun warm my cheeks as it touched the petals of nearby birthday roses.

Birthday Sunset

At home, Kate (she of the mad hatters dinner party and also the one responsible for the paper menagerie) cooked me a birthday dinner of birthday basa,

birthday fish

and a birthday cake.

birthday cake..

and birthday Kate.

I have had a birthday whistle in my nose for the last little while, but feel it ads to the festive tone of the day.

birthday me.

I’m reasonably birthday sleepy now. I will sleep soon, which is birthday wonderful.

birthday brie and birthday unicorn

Oh and because it is my 29th birthday I am posting my list of shit I’ve got to do before I’m 30, entitled: The Art of (my) Gentle Revolution tonight.  Stay tuned for action packed list crossie offie posts.

Rest easy tonight, interwebs, squooshy and comfortable in the bosom of the knowledge that I had a kick ass day and am for the first time in a long while, looking forward to my age.

Peace out.

Also, has anyone else realised that Gran Torino is a Western?

I’ve been doing some reading about genre, right, for two essays that I should be writing at this very moment, that will pop round and soundly kick my ass later in the week.

Firstly, genre is a fairly fluid thing. I mention this only because after reading so much I don’t want to give the nerdly overlords of the interwebs the idea that I think genre is really easily summupable. Early genre theorists would have us believe that there is a like, five or six definite genres, and the lines between them are clear and the point of them is either to help audiences clarify their expectations, help advertisers and such promote shows and films appropriately or to help establish the quality of a certain text, as compared to others of its genre. But the idea of genre is reasonably complicated.

That isn’t exactly what I wanted to talk about, but reading this article about how genre can be obvious from any number of things, setting, characterisation, casting, plot etc gave me an idea. It mentioned the hero in the Western. He (sorry for the gender crap, but that’s how it goes) is traditionally removed from the society he unwillingly exists in, but at some point fights to save this society, then rides off into the sunset* because he is forever at odds with the man, or the establishment. Or prairie living or some such.

And I realised that Clint Eastwood’s character in Gran Torino is EXACTLY THAT HERO. Which, I think, is a nice little remix on the traditional western.

*the article mentioned death as another possible scenario here, the main point being that the hero is removed from the scene.

I am nearly 29

When do you stop feeling like an imposter? A 22 year old, still figuring out how to be herself, hiding in the skin of a near 30. Geez age is weird.

I still think they should make you take a test. I can barely make the decision to dress myself in the morning. I still giggle at Aladdin, man. I hardly think I’m an appropriate candidate for age.