adelaidemedblog

The title is in view of the book store chain in Melbourne, I think.  Deb gave me a book to read, Cannery Row, and now I have time to read it.  I think she gave it to me a year ago today.

I forgot how much I enjoyed reading.  Do you think that exams stifle expression, creativity, intelligence?  Because as much as I wanted to study after exams until I knew the upper and lower limb backwards and forwards, it still sits alone in my mind, away from the clustering of excitables - creativity, expression, writing.  Just like those soot balls from Spirited Away.  They’re jumping around in my mind.

I had four conversations with four different people in the past two days.  Do you want to read my stories?  I have to re-read Obernewtyn, and Darkfall.  I hope Gloris goes to the State Library soon to practice her IELTs, and during that time, I have to read through every article of every existing issue of The Monthly (and Quadrant too if there’s time).  Then there’s Cannery Row, too.  If so, at the same time I’ll have to sit down in front of my computer with the dashboard of OS X down and be trigger happy about dictionary definitions, because today I found that there were 13 words in the first one and half pages of the prologue that I didn’t fully understand.

Once, in Year 8 English, we had to write a story for creative writing.  (Do you remember those days?  They were numbered, now they are gone and may never return.)  I wrote a story in size 10 Times New Roman (when it used to be the default font for Microsoft Office - do you remember how small it was?), 21 pages.  I wrote a story for Year 10 English, about my homestay, and chatting from across the house.  And I wrote one, to say sayonara to creative writing, as part of my Individual Study for the English Studies course, on Lost in Translation and After the Quake (a Haruki Murakami short story collection).  I would love to go over them again, but alas, I formatted my hard drive.  Sorry A, but I’ll be waiting for the time when you will share your stories with me, at least before you can convince me to write anything

I remember I used to read like a fanatic.  I went through the entire Victor Kelleher collection in my Prep School library, then Isobelle Carmody, then Brian Caswell and John Marsden… not necessarily in that order!  But those were seriously the days!  I had a real passion about reading.  When I reflect, I find a lump in my throat related to the the final few pages of that book I regarded as my favourite for some time, Meryll of the Stones.  I still remember the password that took her through the rockface and into the place where they would meet again - erath.  Then there was Ducalion, The View from Ararat, and the simply beautiful Cage of Butterflies.  High-concept, nose up in the air if anyone would say UQP young adult is anything but.  I’m much older now, though.  I need to go back to mum’s house and get Obernewtyn, and The Farseekers.  And Darkfall, which N has re-piqued my interest in.

National Geographic and TIME are favourite magazines, but a more recent discovery has led me to understand that much exists that I do not know of.  The Monthly, a monthly magazine containing Australian politics, social philosophy, and monologues on culture, is one such flower-deck’d route for the traveller weary of the confines of Cecil’s Textbook of Internal Medicine.  Imagine my delight when I discovered, not half a year ago, an article in the magazine written by Anna Goldsworthy about a classical perspective on the art of Jazz music, especially Jazz piano.  Implausibly relevant to my situation, you see… I was talking to C about this magazine.  This and Quadrant, which hither to has flown over my head, but I’ll give it another try.  It’s always on hold, yousee, requested, yousee…

I did look up the dictionary that many times for Cannery Row!  It’s amazing… my English hasn’t improved at all probably since I finished high school.  That is one sad bunny of a fact.

It’s med, isn’t it?