Hey!
You know how much I love this season, so much that I have not had time to say hello at all. I just got back from Warrnambool and horse riding, now heading up to Broken Hill and the desert for Christmas day. Then Alice Springs. Will tell about all very soon.
All my love guys, Merry Christmas.
Nicholas
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Yule Love It! - December 12th, 2007
Hey all! Seems fitting, in the spirit of giving, for me to throw up some completely assorted photos from the last few weeks. Have fun, and no, this is not the kind of present you can return for a refund.
Here I am with my lovely new Christmas tree, "Mel". There is green grass all around me, and I look like a hobo. It's 31 degrees. Merry Christmas indeed.
Our dear friend Alistair (middle) had his birthday, so we cooked a haggis and piped it out for him to the tune of Scotland The Brave. That's Jess on the right, and Vinnie, well, he didn't quite find sheep guts to be his favorite dish.
And finally, we went to a children's Christmas carnival at the petting farm, and after hugging a very sweaty santa, I proceeded to make out with this pony. I am, much to my forgetfullness, still vastly allergic to horses however, and spent the next few hours covered in what could only be described as a "Festive Face Rash".
Merry Christmas everyone, talk to you soon.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
The time in between - December 09, 2007
Well hello guys, fancy seeing you around...
After the extended pleasure that comes with being so equipped with the full capabilities of the multi-media blogosphere, it comes as a bemusing tide to see any entrances here on the blog wane away. I`ve shied away from writing much in the hopes that I would be suddenly blessed with both the time and bandwith to share my life in technocolored glory. Alas, neither has arrived, and so with a slight dallop of guilt I write without any images to carry the point upon a seeming ocean of platitudes.
Christmas draws hard upon my heels here, and in the wake of certain commentary I should say for the record that none of my issues are ever of real weight these days. I seem simply to be a minor weigher of delights, a Shylock of contentment. To that end, a fairly large grain of salt must accompany my postings...
Anywho, I actually crave snow and ice in a somewhat unearthly manner that points out to all my seeming lack of humanity. We had a real live Christmas tree delivered to our place today by Oxfam, which earned the shock from most the artists in the building. So much in fact, that some band rehearsing in our living room gave us comp tickets to their show this Monday. I haven`t heard of them, but I think some of their songs are on youtube (Dresden Dolls anyone?) I dunno.
The internal debate has been whether to weather the weather in Melbourne and pursue a traditional Christmas or flee to the hills for the season. I keep wavering in between the two options, making plans in both directions, and without any seeming commitment from my intentions. I feel now like picking up a beaten down Ford Falcon and driving up to the desert, an option that simple shrugs off the yule time tide, and an idea which becomes more palpable as I see that no amount of Salvation Army will rouse the Christmas of Australia. It's just a different country, no matter the Seven Elevens, and I've gotta get around to rolling with that.
Otherwise, the daily oasis of pleasure I inhabit draws forth the stuffed voices of the closet. I mean, the onrush of peace, well, it tends to muffle the yearnings for self-betterment. And I've been so happy for so long here that the voices are starting to leak from the floor boards. Christmas tidings anyone? This one says Happy Getyourshittogether.
Listening like mad to the Shortbus soundtrack. As for the film, one day when I'm emperor I'm going to put to death anyone who doesn't love it. Negative? Think of it this way, people who lust for the movie I will actually give life to. So yah, she's a great flick and soundtrack.
Finished reading the latest blast of books, and settled once again into Voltaire's Bastards, the tome of genius I've been thumbing and highlighting for ten months, letting the words of sparkling description melt into my lobes. Perfection.
The past, a blow of noel yearnings, the present, the joy of a life lent but not bought, the future...
well for the future, you'll have to stay tuned...
Love!
Nick
After the extended pleasure that comes with being so equipped with the full capabilities of the multi-media blogosphere, it comes as a bemusing tide to see any entrances here on the blog wane away. I`ve shied away from writing much in the hopes that I would be suddenly blessed with both the time and bandwith to share my life in technocolored glory. Alas, neither has arrived, and so with a slight dallop of guilt I write without any images to carry the point upon a seeming ocean of platitudes.
Christmas draws hard upon my heels here, and in the wake of certain commentary I should say for the record that none of my issues are ever of real weight these days. I seem simply to be a minor weigher of delights, a Shylock of contentment. To that end, a fairly large grain of salt must accompany my postings...
Anywho, I actually crave snow and ice in a somewhat unearthly manner that points out to all my seeming lack of humanity. We had a real live Christmas tree delivered to our place today by Oxfam, which earned the shock from most the artists in the building. So much in fact, that some band rehearsing in our living room gave us comp tickets to their show this Monday. I haven`t heard of them, but I think some of their songs are on youtube (Dresden Dolls anyone?) I dunno.
The internal debate has been whether to weather the weather in Melbourne and pursue a traditional Christmas or flee to the hills for the season. I keep wavering in between the two options, making plans in both directions, and without any seeming commitment from my intentions. I feel now like picking up a beaten down Ford Falcon and driving up to the desert, an option that simple shrugs off the yule time tide, and an idea which becomes more palpable as I see that no amount of Salvation Army will rouse the Christmas of Australia. It's just a different country, no matter the Seven Elevens, and I've gotta get around to rolling with that.
Otherwise, the daily oasis of pleasure I inhabit draws forth the stuffed voices of the closet. I mean, the onrush of peace, well, it tends to muffle the yearnings for self-betterment. And I've been so happy for so long here that the voices are starting to leak from the floor boards. Christmas tidings anyone? This one says Happy Getyourshittogether.
Listening like mad to the Shortbus soundtrack. As for the film, one day when I'm emperor I'm going to put to death anyone who doesn't love it. Negative? Think of it this way, people who lust for the movie I will actually give life to. So yah, she's a great flick and soundtrack.
Finished reading the latest blast of books, and settled once again into Voltaire's Bastards, the tome of genius I've been thumbing and highlighting for ten months, letting the words of sparkling description melt into my lobes. Perfection.
The past, a blow of noel yearnings, the present, the joy of a life lent but not bought, the future...
well for the future, you'll have to stay tuned...
Love!
Nick
Monday, December 3, 2007
Woot - December 3rd, 2007
Hey, internet back in force, Chrismas climbing happily from depths of soul into sordid heat, will put up all sorts of lovely info tomorrow, but until then, the Bird video is up down below.
Check it out!
Check it out!
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