Peaceful protest made illegal in NSW
The fine has been raised from $550 to $5500, despite widespread opposition to coal seam gas mining.
See what they've done there? It's now the same penalty to protest destroying our environment as it is to be penalised for undertaking the destruction without permission!
The images shown come from social media and are not mine.
Moving along
This week I resigned from one of my jobs. It’s been fun working at Western Riverina Arts and I’ve learned a lot but it’s time to move on.
When I began I thought too much arts funding went to artists with an overblown sense of self-importance. Now I know that the funding available doesn’t go far enough to encourage everyone to experience the joys of creating.
Before I started working at WRA I had a conversation with the previous Regional Arts Development Officer where I argued that more funding should go to fund workshops and less to fund individual artists.
The former RADO argued that individual artists raise the profile of the arts and this encourages everyone but I still think the greatest benefit would be greater participation, rather than just greatness for a few individuals.
Just as most people know that physical exercise is important for their health but probably realise they need to do more; it’s the case that creative exercises are important for mental health.
The small amounts of money doled out to people trying to promote creative activities in our communities do not go far enough.
The arts are important for bringing people together and also for prompting reflection. It develops empathy, for example, the skill of understanding how other people are thinking and feeling.
So often we’re force-fed answers in the form of marketing, when the process of thinking of a question is far more stimulating because there’s usually more than one answer. Harrison Young has nice line about poetry that captures this idea:
The experience of working to promote a regional arts board has educated me. I’ve gained a better understanding of the hoops one jumps through to access those small amounts of funding. I’ve also helped develop projects and, as someone who throws around lots of ideas, it’s been gratifying to see some of them develop.
My idea that the arts should engage and develop understanding has shaped projects and also encouraged me to run workshops. The knowledge I’ve gained from helping assess CASP applications has led me to successfully apply for CASP funding.
There’s more I want to do to promote the arts and their benefits but I’ve come to realise that there is only so much one can do while working within a regional arts board. There’s a significant issue in managing the perception of self-interest if you’re an artist hoping to secure funding to promote the arts. People don’t see the small amount of money, they see that you’ve gained an opportunity. These people don’t see the hoops that you’ve got to jump through or are unwilling to do so.
So it is time for me to allow others to have the opportunity to gain experience in the arts and to learn to jump through these hoops. I hope they will continue to develop and promote creative activities for everyone in our communities.
When I began I thought too much arts funding went to artists with an overblown sense of self-importance. Now I know that the funding available doesn’t go far enough to encourage everyone to experience the joys of creating.
Before I started working at WRA I had a conversation with the previous Regional Arts Development Officer where I argued that more funding should go to fund workshops and less to fund individual artists.
The former RADO argued that individual artists raise the profile of the arts and this encourages everyone but I still think the greatest benefit would be greater participation, rather than just greatness for a few individuals.
Just as most people know that physical exercise is important for their health but probably realise they need to do more; it’s the case that creative exercises are important for mental health.
The small amounts of money doled out to people trying to promote creative activities in our communities do not go far enough.
The arts are important for bringing people together and also for prompting reflection. It develops empathy, for example, the skill of understanding how other people are thinking and feeling.
So often we’re force-fed answers in the form of marketing, when the process of thinking of a question is far more stimulating because there’s usually more than one answer. Harrison Young has nice line about poetry that captures this idea:
Poetry is full of metaphor, and metaphor is where one thing means another, it is saying two things at once. And this to my mind is like reality, there are often two aspects. Or more.
The experience of working to promote a regional arts board has educated me. I’ve gained a better understanding of the hoops one jumps through to access those small amounts of funding. I’ve also helped develop projects and, as someone who throws around lots of ideas, it’s been gratifying to see some of them develop.
There’s more I want to do to promote the arts and their benefits but I’ve come to realise that there is only so much one can do while working within a regional arts board. There’s a significant issue in managing the perception of self-interest if you’re an artist hoping to secure funding to promote the arts. People don’t see the small amount of money, they see that you’ve gained an opportunity. These people don’t see the hoops that you’ve got to jump through or are unwilling to do so.
So it is time for me to allow others to have the opportunity to gain experience in the arts and to learn to jump through these hoops. I hope they will continue to develop and promote creative activities for everyone in our communities.
20 videos
Today I uploaded my 20th video produced through undertaking the projects promoted by Naviar Records. These include audio responses to haiku, as well as tracks inspired by stories and a song inspired by my suburb Willimbong.
Modern designs inspire
Walter Burley Griffin is famous for winning the competition to design Canberra. Less known is that he left before Canberra was completed and only saw a memorial built to his designs in the Australian national capital.
During his time here Griffin undertook other work, including the designs for Leeton and Griffith in the Murrumbidgee Irrigation Area. The water tower shown at the top of this post was built in the 1970s but retains the design Griffin developed for the two towers that lie behind it. He thought they would form a gateway to the town, like a walled medieval village.
Griffin also added features to Leeton including a bandstand, which I like to think shows the value he placed on cultural activities like live music, as well as park that is like the water towers in being kinda small for contemporary times. I remixed it as part of my project for the centenary of Leeton, see below.
Google News promotes gambling
I've observed that Google's generated news service sometimes goes wrong, like this satire last year that was promoted as actual news.
This morning I noticed the site was promoting as news a sponsored piece for a gambling app.
I think this is significant as many jobs have been lost in media organisations to "cost-cutting" and many more will be lost as artificial intelligence compiles news reports from available data. With it will go editorial judgment and audiences will lose respect for the content as quality suffers.
This morning I noticed the site was promoting as news a sponsored piece for a gambling app.
I think this is significant as many jobs have been lost in media organisations to "cost-cutting" and many more will be lost as artificial intelligence compiles news reports from available data. With it will go editorial judgment and audiences will lose respect for the content as quality suffers.
50 videos
Just noticed that this weekend I've reached the milestone of producing my 50th video as a result of Disquiet Junto projects.
I've lost track of how many tracks I've produced, but at last count it was over 120 recordings. There's a bit about how much I love the Juntos -- and why -- here.
Jailbait clickbait
Feel like I've got a dirty mind now.
Reflecting light
The piece below is the third and final piece in a series prompted by ABC Open. (Here are the first and second parts.)
It picks up on an earlier post here because I liked the idea of shifting focus from the physical landscape to an emotional one, in part for the idea from the road movie genre of using travel as a metaphor for personal change; mostly as I'm seeing so much anxiety among friends at the moment. It's been fascinating to have the observation of my own state reaffirmed by those around me.
Anyway, here's the piece:
The days have started to shorten but the bite hasn’t softened in the sunshine.
As the sun lowers to the north and rises later, I can see the shadow of my car stretch out in front at times as I drive from Leeton to Griffith. Last week the light was at an angle that revealed a police car tucked away in the boree wattle by the side of the road. The red and blue of their slim rooftop lights twinkled from about a kilometre away.
In paddocks by the side of the road I see corn drying on stalks, as well as rice looking lush green, and lots of oranges on trees. The wine grapes have been picked early this year, and early in the day too. On those mornings there was a trail of grape leaves scattered along the road leading to the wineries like a bread crumb trail from a fairy tale.
My partner lamented last week how summer used to build to blazing heat, but now the cooking starts on the long weekend in October and eases around Easter. I hope she’s right as Easter is early this year.
As the light changes I notice internal changes. There’s an increased feeling of anxiousness. I start spending more time on shopping websites and remind myself that I observed this trend toward compulsive spending last year. I tell myself that I don’t really need another synthesiser that will accumulate dust under my bed.
It really is bizarre how the rituals transplanted from the northern hemisphere are inverted in the south. We antipodeans celebrate the resurrection of our son god as the sun diminishes. The winter solstice lacks the festivity of Christmas, a time when gathering and expressing good will would be a benefit. I realise my partners’ family must’ve come to this conclusion long ago, as I remember their annual winter bonfire and the friends who I often only see on that night each year.
I want to share these observations with friends on Facebook but reconsider. There are studies that suggest our emphatic natures will see people reflect on my feelings of morbidity and mild stress with their own.
And so, as I start reflecting on how disconnected I feel from the seasons, I also start to feel disconnected from many of my people. It’s further reminder of the physical distances between us and the way that, over the years, our lives have grown in different directions.
Then, as if to pinch myself, I remember the term seasonal attitude disorder. It’s cute the way the acronym encapsulates a sense of its effect. I also think of that term I’m seeing more often among my friends with a New Age bent, and that’s ‘light worker’.
Clearly I need to focus on bringing my own light into these looming shadows or winter will be a drag. In the meantime I remind myself to be grateful to see light twinkle back at me from the eyes of my partner and children. The time I have with them is passing with the seasons and it’s wonderful to see them grow.
It picks up on an earlier post here because I liked the idea of shifting focus from the physical landscape to an emotional one, in part for the idea from the road movie genre of using travel as a metaphor for personal change; mostly as I'm seeing so much anxiety among friends at the moment. It's been fascinating to have the observation of my own state reaffirmed by those around me.
Anyway, here's the piece:
The days have started to shorten but the bite hasn’t softened in the sunshine.
As the sun lowers to the north and rises later, I can see the shadow of my car stretch out in front at times as I drive from Leeton to Griffith. Last week the light was at an angle that revealed a police car tucked away in the boree wattle by the side of the road. The red and blue of their slim rooftop lights twinkled from about a kilometre away.
In paddocks by the side of the road I see corn drying on stalks, as well as rice looking lush green, and lots of oranges on trees. The wine grapes have been picked early this year, and early in the day too. On those mornings there was a trail of grape leaves scattered along the road leading to the wineries like a bread crumb trail from a fairy tale.
My partner lamented last week how summer used to build to blazing heat, but now the cooking starts on the long weekend in October and eases around Easter. I hope she’s right as Easter is early this year.
As the light changes I notice internal changes. There’s an increased feeling of anxiousness. I start spending more time on shopping websites and remind myself that I observed this trend toward compulsive spending last year. I tell myself that I don’t really need another synthesiser that will accumulate dust under my bed.
It really is bizarre how the rituals transplanted from the northern hemisphere are inverted in the south. We antipodeans celebrate the resurrection of our son god as the sun diminishes. The winter solstice lacks the festivity of Christmas, a time when gathering and expressing good will would be a benefit. I realise my partners’ family must’ve come to this conclusion long ago, as I remember their annual winter bonfire and the friends who I often only see on that night each year.
I want to share these observations with friends on Facebook but reconsider. There are studies that suggest our emphatic natures will see people reflect on my feelings of morbidity and mild stress with their own.
And so, as I start reflecting on how disconnected I feel from the seasons, I also start to feel disconnected from many of my people. It’s further reminder of the physical distances between us and the way that, over the years, our lives have grown in different directions.
Then, as if to pinch myself, I remember the term seasonal attitude disorder. It’s cute the way the acronym encapsulates a sense of its effect. I also think of that term I’m seeing more often among my friends with a New Age bent, and that’s ‘light worker’.
Commercial coffees I have enjoyed
Since I bought an Aeropress, I've really enjoyed sampling different blends of coffee. Here are a few of my current favourites.
Lavazza Caffe Torino has a nice dark cocoa taste. I've found it's great when brewed with water around 65-80C. There's less bitterness and a big rich chocolate-y body, which is a characteristic of all three Lavazza blends. The others have more of a roast-y flavour and they all go a long way. I find you can get away with using less, maybe three-quarters of what other brands require.
These two Vittoria blends aren't tied for second place. In fact, I find them a bit ordinary on their own. When you put them together though, there's a complementary flavour that emerges. The Mountain Grown brings body, while the pissweak Organic flavour fills in around it. I also like the regular Vittoria and find it benefits from hot, almost boiling water to bring out depth.
Caffe Aurora Italian Blend is really distinctive as it tastes burnt. When I share it with people their response is usually "Yuck!" but the charcoal flavour works for me. It softens the bitterness to the point of making it like a cup of milky Milo. I don't like the competition promoted on the bag though, as the stickers were blank when I turned them over so it annoyed me that I couldn't enter to win $10,000 since I've bought three bags now.
Robert Timms Italian Espresso Style has a dark body that's not very rich. It also has a bitterness that's more akin to the regular Vittoria but darker, even when brewed at lower temperatures. There's an acidity too that's quite distinct. The other thing I like is that it reminds me of when I first started drinking their coffee bags in the 1990s and discovered how much smoother brewed coffee was to instant.
(fe)manifesto
Visitors are invited to glue on lines from a famous feminist texts, using the cut-up method to create a manifesto.
Full moon over Leeton Rice Co-op
If you listen carefully you might hear the hum as part of my soundtrack for Reimagining The Murrumbidgee from a few years ago, but I also just recorded it for a Junto too.
It's lit-up at night and I enjoy photographing it, like this shot from last year when I was thinking how I'd interpret the WRA photo competition theme 'Living Leeton' that I couldn't enter as an employee.
The full moon this week prompted me to take more photos, like this one. As I was looking back over them I thought how much I like the red dot of the 'No Entry' sign in this one, since the design of that building in the background often prompts me to think on Japanese influence in the local rice industry. The first experimental rice crop here started with the arrival of grain from Isaburo Takasuka, which came via his nephew's motorcycle in the early 20th Century.
These days Leeton is home to the SunRice brand, who sponsor a festival every other year and I recently tried to add a multicultural event to their program as a way of raising the role of this grain in the diet of people all over the world. Funding was unsuccessful, so maybe another year.
And the 'No entry' sign also reminds me of Japan's isolationist history, which is mentioned in this beaut video by Bill Wurtz.
Young praying mantis on tansy
Dying a little
Last year I noticed a growing anxiety at this time of the year and, now that I've awoken from anxious dreams, I'm wondering if it isn't to do with the shortening days. Wondering if I'm that disconnected from the changing of the seasons that I've never recognised their effect before.
With spring it's an obvious sense of life unfurling, whereas autumn is a slower process of death and decay. The leaves gradually change colour -- and that's only the imported trees, those deciduous ones that are part of a human-built environment in Australia.
Last year I was very aware of death as I spent Easter thinking about a dead woman. It was the first time I'd really pondered death at that time of the year, which is another sign of my disconnectedness. Being an atheist means not thinking too much about the symbolism of Easter, yet here was an event that prompted me to think on it.
I started to wonder about the significance of Stephanie's death and saw a myriad of ways that people were reflecting on it, from putting yellow around the town or hanging out their wedding dresses. It suddenly brought a morbid focus to a lot of things.
Today it was explained to me why Easter changes date each year. I could see that anchoring it to the full moon after the equinox makes it a seasonal event. and that it is an ideal time for camping as the last glow of summer fades. Camping seems like a good idea too as it would take me away from the usual distractions like Facebook that generally only amplify whatever mood I share with friends.
Those studies that suggest that people feel depressed when they see friends feeling depressed suggest that I shouldn't start reflecting on my morbid mood on Facebook. Yet I'm aware that there is a gap in my life for something that reaffirms life at this time of the year.
Last year I was very aware of death as I spent Easter thinking about a dead woman. It was the first time I'd really pondered death at that time of the year, which is another sign of my disconnectedness. Being an atheist means not thinking too much about the symbolism of Easter, yet here was an event that prompted me to think on it.
I started to wonder about the significance of Stephanie's death and saw a myriad of ways that people were reflecting on it, from putting yellow around the town or hanging out their wedding dresses. It suddenly brought a morbid focus to a lot of things.
Today it was explained to me why Easter changes date each year. I could see that anchoring it to the full moon after the equinox makes it a seasonal event. and that it is an ideal time for camping as the last glow of summer fades. Camping seems like a good idea too as it would take me away from the usual distractions like Facebook that generally only amplify whatever mood I share with friends.
Those studies that suggest that people feel depressed when they see friends feeling depressed suggest that I shouldn't start reflecting on my morbid mood on Facebook. Yet I'm aware that there is a gap in my life for something that reaffirms life at this time of the year.
Field recorded and remixed
Above is a field recording made last week outside Wagga Wagga, and below is how it sounds remixed into a short house-style track.
Hairy panic
Hairy panic is an Australian tumbleweed and it's in the news at present for inundating Wangaratta.
The news story in the link above says it's not a fire risk but I've found it's great for starting fires because it burns like petrol.
Hairy panic seems like a funny name until you experience it caught in your pants. Then it feels like something crawling up your leg.
This photo was taken in 2008, when there was a massive build-up of the dried weed at the property where I was living outside Wagga. You can see it totally obscures me.
I wrote these lyrics for a song at that time and I think I should finally get to recording it because there were chords too.
I'm a tumbling weed
my life is floating on the breeze
no choice but let the wind blow
and determine where I go
Rolling on the ground
I creep without making a sound
shake a spindly arm
and catch my seed in your palm
(Prechorus)
With a breath on the breeze
I inhale and it frees
Caught pushed against a wall
I'll erupt and then I'll fall
taking opportunity
wherever the wind is moving me
You'll never know what I've faced
to reach this resting place
when the summer has come and gone
my kind will roll along
(Prechorus)
(Chorus)
Accept the change, weather the rains
and live to roll another day
Wherever I go, the grass will grow
and I live to roll another day
The news story in the link above says it's not a fire risk but I've found it's great for starting fires because it burns like petrol.
Hairy panic seems like a funny name until you experience it caught in your pants. Then it feels like something crawling up your leg.
I wrote these lyrics for a song at that time and I think I should finally get to recording it because there were chords too.
I'm a tumbling weed
my life is floating on the breeze
no choice but let the wind blow
and determine where I go
Rolling on the ground
I creep without making a sound
shake a spindly arm
and catch my seed in your palm
(Prechorus)
With a breath on the breeze
I inhale and it frees
Caught pushed against a wall
I'll erupt and then I'll fall
taking opportunity
wherever the wind is moving me
You'll never know what I've faced
to reach this resting place
when the summer has come and gone
my kind will roll along
(Prechorus)
(Chorus)
Accept the change, weather the rains
and live to roll another day
Wherever I go, the grass will grow
and I live to roll another day
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