[Miscellany]

There is a strange stillness in the cold air. A blue tinge in the night sky. A quiet hush accentuated by the occassional swish of car tyres on wet bitumen. Lights blink over the railway and the Eureka Tower dwarfs the Arts Centre Spiral. This is the view of Melbourne walking over the MCG footbridge to the Rod Laver Arena.

A lyric from Coldplay's Politik that says open up your eyes is what I wrap around me tonight. It is also the view I take of Melbourne generally; a place that is not always polished, nor glamorous, or sophisticated. Open up your eyes is finding beauty in the imperfections - once you see it, you begin to forget about all that silver platter bullshit. Leave it for the birds! The beauty is in the amused roll of the eyes between umbrella-less pedestrians when the skies suddenly open up without warning. It's discovering a new cafe in a dingy alleyway. It's chuckling at Jeff Kennett's yellow "penis" sculpture as you drive along the tullamarine freeway. It's finally understanding that Federation Square isn't an eyesore, it's an intricate labyrinth. Beauty in all things, especially if you have to work for it. The fun is under the covers, not in bragging about the Egyptian cotton.

I try to utlise the concept when I look at anything and everything; sculpture, music, love, art, people; Open up your eyes is not about Melbourne at all. It's about life; which has never been a straight forward path or a route clearly defined by the stars, no matter how hard we kid ourselves that it is. We get caught up in the superficial fog pretty easily. I guess in order to open up your eyes you just have to be open up your mind to the little moments of clarity within the fog. Little sparkles of beauty in a sea of ugliness where the rushed, working, living, breathing shell of you meets head on with the you that exists as a greater part of the collective consciousness, the earth, the universe (insert your own) in a sudden cosmic a ha moment.

But this is not about climbing to the top of the mountain. It's not about getting a child to like reading (finally). It's not about helping the blind to see. That kind of work reminds you of how important and funamental you are to the world and the people around you. It is an achievement. The sparkle, however is a little tap on the shoulder and a whisper in the ear that says open your eyes and look around you, things are beautiful. It's a reminder.

The moments come whenever - it's nothing, a completely frivolous but individually satisfying instant that grabs your heart when you least expect it. You might, for instance be at a concert and the band start singing a famous line when suddenly these gigantic yellow balloons float from the roof and waft down onto the elated crowd below - who all begin tapping them across to eachother in an interconnected game of beach ball. Tap, tap, tap - and then without warning the balls begin bursting and millions of pieces of golden glitter shower down on the assembly who are smiling, laughing and shrieking with delighted glee. You watch the golden squares catch the light and reflect it in flashes of colour back towards you and this is when you realise the sublime moment for what it is.

Life is delightfully surprising.

Thanks for reminding me. I needed that.

Labels: music, wonderings

posted by M at 1:02 am 8 comments