17 March, 2004
I've decided that old nostaligia makes you happy. I'm convinced that it has to be at least ten years old and totally inaccessible in every day life- nothing nostaligic about this city- this country- it has to live... someplace.. else.
I'm about to go to the land of Ghosts that now is safer in so many ways than this grey green city I live in.
Funny when you realise that the people singing the songs when you were living those memories out are now younger than you are- and what fucking songs have you written?
What quilts have you made today young lady? What skill have you honed?
You are not as brilliant as they led you to believe.
Who did? Yeah see!
So I sat in the shop today- someone else's shop thank god- and I wrote lists of things as mundane as- what is actually mine in the house.
This is the list I wrote-
plants
fish tank(s)
toiletries
cds
books
clothes
art supplies
Then I started writing things I'll need
couch- not sure- will it be big enough- will it be a studio?
bookcase
storage
Then I realised I can't afford to live.
I wrote a list of things I can't afford to live with and then a list of things I can do/need to make money.
INCOME
embroidery
sewing machine
teeshirts
gloves
quilts
lamps/lights
screens
cards
napkins
table runners
bags
cussions
tea cosies
oven mits
scarves
doona covers
pillows.
In fact I realised I'll just end up MAKING a new house. I'll fucking sew it and stitch it and cut and paste it till I have it.
I just need a papper and cotton field on which to build it.