The Abysmal Life of Crayon

Experience the joys in the life of jaded Sydney-siders Crayon and Jamin-kun.

Wednesday, July 14, 2004

Art and Crazy People

Went to the Art Gallery today, and saw something that really made me think, something that I am afraid Art today does not do often.

The Sydney Biennal Festival is on, and the Sydney Museum of Modern Art had an exhibition. Usually I find their stuff too stifling, too cool, too meaningless and abstract.

Today, I went in on my lunch break, desperate for a bit of beauty and sadness to ease the fickleness of the day.

Went to the museum, head down, not wanting to see the world. There was a Video installation, one of those cordonned off areas where they play weird Art Movies and Short Films.

I didn't even read the Introduction that was stuck on the wall before you walk in.
"Surprise me, fuckers." I thought..."Come on. Do your Art. Make me think."

I sat down, between people sitting, standing, people kneeling in the darkness.

There was a woman on the screen writing something on a blackboard. It was her name. Then she went and sat down, and started to speak. She looked crazy, haggard, hair all over the place and weird inflictions in her voice.

It turned out to be a short film called "12 Women and a Marionette" as part of larger work called "La Passion de Joan D'Arc", by an Australian guy, and was set in the Rozelle Mental Hospital near Balmain in Sydney.

When I say it was 'set in the hospital', I mean it actually just went through each of the 12 women from the hospital while they talked about anything.

It was so so heart breaking, they were so alienated, all of them had some kind of mental illness, all of them had some kind of terrible life, all of them were just beautiful once you listened to what they had to say.

These are the type of people that you see living on the street, and while you might feel sorry for them, you don't really understand them, or think them 'beautiful', or even see them as human beings.

I could feel myself wishing, as I watched, that I could use magic or something to suddenly make this film come onto every single cinema screen that was playing a Blockbuster across the country; cause every single television tuned to "Who Wants Be a Millionaire" to flick to this film and they stay there all night; and hope that normal people would see these women and perhaps, somehow, understand.

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Wednesday, July 07, 2004

Are you willing to experience fear and uncertainty in your life in order to experience the extraordinary.

i know i said i wouldn't write again for a while. But I felt it would be bad luck to leave my blog on such a depressing note for too long.

So, something happened just then while I was working on the computer at work. I was flicking through the electronic calender they use here. flicking through all the years, months, saying to myself "march 2005, I'll be 25, April 2005, I'll be 25, January 2006, I'll be 26" and so on.

Just struck me that I probably wont be in the same job when those dates finally tick over in this electronic calender that I am using now.

Who knows where I will be.

Maybe this is the thing that has been scaring me so much, causing me to wake at night. For the first time in my life, I realise that I am actually living...That THIS is life, and not a dress rehearsal, and not university, which is "preparing me" for "Life"....and this is not how I thought my life would be.

I had pictures and dreams of what I thought I would be doing when I was 20, 25, 28, 30, 35, 40. My ideas of what I would be doing as a 24 year old, when I was 15 or 16 are VASTLY different to what I am doing now.

This means then, that what I am thinking I might do in the next 5 - 10 years, is no where near what I really will be doing.

Where on earth will I be??? For some stupid stupid reason, I really want to know. But wouldn't that be boring if you knew where you were going to be in 10 years time? There would be no spontaneity. No surprises. No fear. No excitement.

As much as I don't want the fear, I want all the other stuff so much, that I am willing to feel afraid in order to feel them.

That is what you've gotta weigh up, I guess.

Are you willing to experience fear and uncertainty in your life in order to experience the extraordinary. Am I?

I think so.

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Tuesday, July 06, 2004

This Abysmal Life

This really sucks, everything sucks, I'm tired, cranky, I feel sick, work is shit, I feel like shit, wish I was dead, didn't sleep last night, did the whole bed flip thing again, sleeping down the other end of the bed, Jamin-kun, poor guy, followed suit, I feel so cruel, and am so irritated with myself, I wish I would just shut up and go away, but I just cant get away from myself, that is the most awful terrifying thing.

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Sunday, July 04, 2004

Dreamscapes and Nightmares

Last night I woke up crying again - I have done so for the past three or four nights. At 3am I seem to suddenly awaken from deep sleep, gasping and weeping. I have no idea why. It is very disturbing, but usually I am so tired I can't do anything except lie there in the dark, breathing hard, and wondering what it was that made me cry so hard...

I asked Jamin-kun this morning if he heard me last night, or at all the last couple of nights, and he said no. But I think he might have heard me subconciously, because when I awoke on the second night of this happening, he woke with me, and blindly, sleepily put his arm around me and pulled me close.

This morning, I tried so hard to remember what it was that made me weep so hard that I was actually pulled from my sleep.

I know it had something to do with someone not understanding me at all, and trying to hurt me in some way, or hurting the people I loved because of something that I had done. But the "thing" I had done was completely misunderstood, and...I can't even explain it, its too hard.

Anyway, its left me feeling a little dazed over this week.

Jamin-kun went to Gomez on Friday night - they were playing at the Metro, and since I am not a huge fan of theirs, and it costs seventy bucks to get in, I decided to hang out in the city with my girlfriends.

So, me and my four girlfriends went to a cheap little Italian restuarant off the main drag on the border of Chinatown, me, Fi, Shaz and Treen.

We got all rowdy, fuelled my red wine, giggles and hyperactive conversation. It was a really fun night, and we didn't want to leave the restaurant.

Soon, it was closed (it was almost midnight), and we were the only ones left there, they let us stay there finishing off our wine.

We somehow got onto the subject of school, and how we had done in our last year. We all related our stresses and fears of doing well, and the expectations our high schools had put upon us...

Shaz said:
"I didn't do as well as I could have, but it was the accident, you know."

I was like, "What? Hang on, an accident? What the fuck happened? I've never heard about this." I knew Shaz through Uni, not through school, so I had no idea what she was talking about.

And she said: "Well, you know my brother was nearly bashed to death when I was in Year 12 at school. He nearly died, and was in a coma for a while."

"No shit?" we all started at her goggle eyed - I couldnt believe it. I didn't know her brother, but Shaz was one of these people who you think have never had a bad thing happen to them. She is one of those people who have no bitterness, no hate, and certainly, a positive perspective that can only point to an easy life.

Luckily, because of the wine, we began to ask the sort of questions we would have been desperate to know, but never brave enough to ask, had we been sober.

She told us this:

"My brother had just turned 18, and was at Manly in a pub celebrating a night out with his friends. He was just hanging out, not doing anything wrong. A bunch of Tongan guys that were getting rowdy, had accused one of the guys from this group of trying to pick up his girlfriend."

Apparently, she said, the rowdy guys got pumped up and confronted the group of boys, including Shaz's brother, about flirting with their girl, and it eventually started a fight...Shaz'z brother was the centre of the fight, the gang's focus.

He was pinned up against a wall, while the Tongan's, who were all on the same football team, all over 100kgs, ran at him, and jumped, kicking his body, his chest, his legs. All while on the dance floor. Lots of people tried to stop them, but there was only one security guard on that night. It kept going and going, with people screaming. Witnesses said he was apparently unconcious after the very first kick to the head.

After that there was no hope. Police came, ambulances. He was taken to hospital.

"My mum and I were called", said Shaz, "and we went to the hospital, they just told us he'd been in a fight. We didn't think it was serious. Guys get into fights all the time."

When they arrived however, the father was already there, and had been told they should spend the next 24 hours at his bedside, as he wasnt going to make it.

Shaz said "When I went into that room, it was one of the worst moments of my life - you couldnt see his face at all, his eyes we're swollen shut, his head was so big it was like he had elephantitis, his mouth was just a slash in his face. There was blood everywhere. We didnt think he was going to make it."

It turned out he lived...He was in a coma for four months. He recovered, but apparently he is not quite the same. The whole family went to court to face these brutes that beat him up. They were part of the Australian football team apparently, a major one, I don't know which one. Two of them were jailed for 5 years, and the others all got off. One of the jailed ones was LET OUT to PLAY an "IMPORTANT GAME OF FOOTBALL" with the New Zealand Team, because he was not legally allowed to represent Australia....Shaz's brother was in a wheel chair for about 6 months after he woke up, and had to learn to walk again, and speak again.

We all cried in that restaurant that night, sweetly, quietly, while we listened to her story. It was just so awful. And yet, I asked her, do you hate them? Are you worried about them getting out of jail? And she said, Well, its over now, he has regained a normal life, he doesn't remember what happened for up to two years before the "accident". The people who did it have paid in various ways over the years. And everyone makes mistakes.

I just felt so heavy, as we all walked out of the restaurant, out onto the street, into the vibrant night, so alive, and so energetic, and so seemingly oblvious to pain.

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