Welcome to my regular Friday song/tune day, ladies and gentlemen, where I pick a piece of music that reflects my mood or the times, to share with you.
Several years ago I was a member of an Aussie secular gospel choir. That must sound really weird to some, secular and gospel being quite the opposite of one another. I suppose what motivated me to join was an interest in history and social justice issues. For my Friday song pick, I have chosen one of the gospel songs that I learnt in that choir. I particularly like this rendition by the Detroit Mass Choir. Enjoy.
Canberra news – Unlike this time last year when there was nary a blade of grass due to drought and high temperatures, Canberra (Australia) is green once more.
La Niña is sending rain our way and our total dam storage is 90.9 percent and increasing. The buzz of lawn mowers rivals that of the bees and swathes of grass and weeds get the chop between showers. Meanwhile, the results of the Canberra election have been finalised and here too, there is to be more green in the legislative assembly.
In other news, a recently retired federal minister who, as part of the federal leadership team, had a hand in the decision to pursue a gas-led recovery for Australia, is now promoting a green recovery. That may look good on his job application for the position of Secretary-General of the OECD. One might ask, “How emissions-intensive is your recovery? What’s your goal?”
My little Finnish Spitz, Ama, was diagnosed with copper storage disease a couple of years ago. It has been a long and difficult journey to restore her to some semblance of health, with her blood test results again causing concern as little as four months ago. A new medication was our last hope and, hooray, so far, so good. Her latest test results have shown a dramatic improvement. We can see this in her sassy attitude. The ensuing ruckus is never-ending.
About a year into her treatment, I spoke to the vet about how Ama’s treatment was bankrupting us. The staff suggested I put her on YT (or something like that)! What the heck? Is that a thing? Does your dog go viral and then all of a sudden people want to buy merch? I suppose I could make some Ama “fan” T-shirts or I could make a fund-raising calendar of her cuteness. Is that how people monetise their pets? Anyway, needless to say, we are not doing that, even if she is ridiculously cute and loud. Yes, I am biased.
As yesterday was a quiet day, I thought I would have a play with some photos for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge – Negative Space. The negative space is the unoccupied space around the positive space, the positive space being the subject of the photo. Now you are a probably thinking that a positive and negative make a negative, and I’m sure this is true in photography too, but overdosing on the negative in photography breaks that rule. You’ll see. In photography, harnessing the divergent properties of positive and negative space can create cohesion – a sense of calm, peace, contemplation, isolation and scale. Distraction and busyness are the enemies of positive. Hence I let these adjectives be my guide in selecting photos for this challenge. Of course, everything is relative and the relative can really complicate the selection process, especially if you have a mind as busy as mine. I’m speaking from experience, or lack thereof.
For Patti, who has always wanted to make a mosaic.
I always complain about not having enough space. The garage and my outdoor workspace are overflowing with stuff. My stuff. My mosaic stuff. Everything is covered with dust and cobwebs. I love it. It is a magical space full of wonder. Perhaps my affinity for tiles is instinctual, in my genes. My father was a builder in his youth. He loved concrete and his concreting skills were in high demand for major commercial builds. Funnily enough, my brother is now a tiler, a trade he came to later in life.
The old man slaps his car keys down on the kitchen table. It’s cold inside the house and he is tired. It’s been a long drive in heavy rain. He has to take a slash. His water works need fixing. That’s why he is here. Back in Canberra.
The mobile rings as he is zipping his fly. “H’lo,” he says loudly. It’s his eldest daughter on the line. The cranky one. Of course, it is not the youngest daughter. She doesn’t ring. She is too busy working in the old folks home. His son doesn’t ring much either. If the old man knew how to text, they might communicate more often.