Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Blue, Orange and Elephants

Housing commission flats, Kensington. 
I love that quirky cloud, a little whimsy, amongst the sadness.

The retro glory of the New Hamer Hall, not great if you don't like orange, but I'm definitely a fan.

We saw Nitin Sawhney's acoustic show here, I was moved to tears by the performances, achingly beautiful. 

Longing Nitin Sawhney

More elephants (see last post), I love Melbourne Zoo's elephants popping up in unexpected places, wearing curious coats.

Unfortunately, the night began with violence. As we hopped on a train to the city, we were met with the sounds of a woman screaming, really screaming, and the sight of her being pinned against a wall by a man twice her size. He was grinning as she tried to get away, clearly enjoying his power over the situation. She was screaming to be let go but he held her tight. There was that terrible moment where you want to help but you are frightened for your own safety, the guy was looking around as if wanting someone to challenge him. We called the police as the train pulled from the station, thoughts about the scene, and if the woman was ok, haunted me all evening, and still do. 

When we arrived at the city something else had taken place, there were police everywhere and an enormous police truck was parked at Fed Square, where we were headed for dinner. A planned broadcast of the funeral of the Ethiopian Prime Minister had been cancelled, due to protests on the street about the human rights abuses of the ex Prime Minister.  At the square, there was a large group of Ethiopians with candles, and they were gathered around the fed square stage listening to speakers. I don't know what they were saying. The mood was sad and distrusting.  On the giant fed square screen large adds rolled by, presumably just the standard dross that is always on show, it felt really insensitive. Surely the screen could have been turned off when it was decided the funeral would not be broadcast, it seemed so disrespectful to the speakers. When I got home I hopped online to find out what had happened and had the unfortunate luck of hitting on Andrew Bolt's racist perspective of the event and a flow of hateful comments adding to his opinion.

It was a a night to remember that all is not well with the world, to be grateful for all that I have in our little blue nest, that we are safe, comfortable beyond words, and not hated for the colour of our skin. To be grateful for the beauty and joy of music.

 Nitin Sawhney - Immigrant feat Nicki Wells

Linking with Maxabella Loves


  1. Well - I love the first photo and find it uplifting. Such a shame about the rest, and the world as it is in this moment. cheers Wendy

  2. The rest of the world does affect our little nests though because when we come in contact with things like this we bring it back with us to a certain extent. Fortunately if we are safe at home, we heal and can be a strength to those around us. We can't fix the world unfortunately but can bring our children up to value justice, peace and compassion. I hope something good can come out of experiencing these awful sights for you.

  3. Shivers and goosebumps after reading of your night.

    I like a sheltered existence and would be so uncomfortable in the situations you described. A turtle, through and through.

    Hamer Hall looks magnifico, good to hear you were moved by the music. x

  4. That poor woman! I wouldn't have been able to help myself - I leap right in there when someone needs rescuing from a bully. I have been hurt as a result, but I can't seem to stop myself. x

  5. Oh that is a horrible thing to see and for that woman to go through. I steer clear of the city at night these days I feel too old to be out there and don't cope well when faced with these situations like I might have when I was younger. I feel grateful everyday for the cosy safe place I have here with my family. x

  6. We don't have much violence around here like that. The worst that kept me up for a few nights was shortly after I moved into my new apartment last summer. A man knocked on my door, visibly upset. He was leaving his house to head to work when he spotted a purse (all ID, credit cards and cell phone inside) and a pair of women's shoes in his front yard. The address on the ID was my address. He was so worried because it appeared to be a dump of her things. he took the items to the police as soon as he left here. It took me a couple of days to find out everything was okay.

    The world can be a scary place. I worry about the children who are growing up in these war-zones. When our soldiers come back with PTSD, can you imagine what these children are feeling never knowing if they are safe?

  7. Golly thank goodness you loaded such beautiful music up to counter for the first story. It is hard to understand why people feel they need to act in certain ways. At least the night had it's beauty to counterbalance, glad you are safe as well.


In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.
Margaret Atwood

“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbour:
"Winter is dead.”
― A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young