Melbourne's laneways...

Melbourne's laneways © Jennifer Phillips

Sometime around midnight

And it starts... 

Sometime around midnight

Or at least that's when

You lose yourself

For a minute or two

As you stand... 

Under the barlights

And the band plays some song

About forgetting yourself for a while

And the piano's this melancholy soundtrack

To her smile

And that white dress she's wearing

You haven't seen her

For a while

But you know... 

That she's watching

She's laughing, she's turning

She's holding her tonic like a cross

The room suddenly spinning

She walks up and asks how you are

So you can smell her perfume

You can see her lying naked in your arms

And so there's a change... 

In your emotions

And all of these memories come rushing

Like feral waves to your mind

Of the curl of your bodies

Like two perfect circles entwined

And you feel hopeless, and homeless

And lost in the haze

Of the wine

And she leaves... 

With someone you don't know

But she makes sure you saw her

She looks right at you and bolts

As she walks out the door

Your blood boiling

Your stomach in ropes

And when your friends say what is it

You look like you've seen a ghost

And you walk... 

Under the streetlights

And you're too drunk to notice

That everyone is staring at you

And you don't care what you look like

The world is falling

Around you

You just have to see her

You just have to see her

You just have to see her

You just have to see her

You just have to see her

And you know that she'll break you

In two

by The Airborne Toxic Event

Torrent

I was a parched river bed,

cracks across the surface.

So fuckin’ dried out,

going through the motions.

By degrees, I’d grown

silent as the stones.

My waters, still deep,

run submerged.

You came to me

like water, like rain.

And our words

are a torrent.

© Jennifer Phillips (All rights reserved)

Image © Nick Pattinson

Nobody really cares if you don't go to the party

You always get what you want

And you don't even try

Your friends hate it when its always going your way

But I'm glad that you've got luck on your side

You're saying definitely maybe

I'm saying probably no

You say "You sleep when you're dead," I'm scared I'll die in my sleep

I guess that's not a bad way to go

I wanna go out but I wanna stay home

I wanna go out but I wanna stay home

Why are you so eager to please?

I wear my heart on my sleeve

Gets harder in the winter, gotta be a fake or shiver

It takes a great deal out of me

Yes I like hearing your stories

But I've heard them all before

I'd rather stay in bed with the rain over my head

Than have to pick my brain up off of the floor

I wanna go out but I wanna stay home

I wanna go out but I wanna stay home

by Courtney Barnett

Such great heights

I am thinking it's a sign
that the freckles in our eyes

are mirror images and

when we kiss they're perfectly aligned.

And I have to speculate

that God himself did make us into

corresponding shapes like puzzle pieces

from the clay.

True, it may seem like a stretch, 

but it's thoughts like this

that catch my troubled head

when you're away, when I am missing you to death.

When you were out there on the road

for several weeks of shows

and when you scan the radio, 

I hope this song will guide you home.

They will see us waving from such great heights.

"Come down now," they'll say.

But everything looks perfect from far away.

"Come down now," but we'll stay.

I've tried my best to leave

this all on your machine

but the persistent beat, it

sounded thin upon listening.

And, that frankly will not fly.

You will hear the shrillest highs

and lowest lows with the windows down, 

when this is guiding you home.

They will see us waving from such great heights.

"Come down now," they'll say.

But everything looks perfect from far away.

"Come down now," but we'll stay.

by The Postal Service - cover by Samuel Beam (Iron & Wine).

Mt. Buffalo, VIC © Jennifer Phillips

Swiss cheese

"What young people didn't know, she thought, lying down beside this man, his hand on her shoulder, her arm; oh, what young people did not know. They did not know that lumpy, aged, and wrinkled bodies were as needy as their own young, firm ones, that love was not to be tossed away carelessly, as if it were a tart on a platter with others that got passed around again. No, if love was available, one chose it, or didn't choose it. And if her platter had been full with the goodness of Henry and she had found it burdensome, had flicked it off crumbs at a time, it was because she had not known what one should know: that day after day was unconsciously squandered.

And so, if this man next to her now was not a man she would have chosen before this time, what did it matter? He most likely wouldn't have chosen her either. But here they were, and Olive pictured two slices of Swiss cheese pressed together, such holes they brought to this union - what pieces life took out of you.

Her eyes were closed, and throughout her tired self swept waves of gratitude - and regret. She pictured the sunny room; the sun-washed wall, the bayberry outside. It baffled her, the world. She did not want to leave it yet."

From "Olive Kitteridge" by Elizabeth Strout

Field of Canola © Jennifer Phillips

A walk around Montsalvat

Montsalvat is an artists' colony in Eltham, Victoria, Australia, established by Justus Jorgensen in 1934. It is home to over a dozen buildings, houses and halls set amongst richly established gardens on 12 acres of land. The colony of Montsalvat has a detailed history that reflects the life of Jörgensen and his friends and family, while its buildings and gardens are steeped in the art and culture of Melbourne and its surroundings.