TN shenanigans
I'll be doing light posting over the next couple of weeks, due to some heavy extra-curricular activity. Yes, in answer to some who have asked, I am writing another novel; it's much shorter than the other ones, I'm just over half-way, and it's providing me with the necessary creative angst for weeks of plaintive blog posts. But that's not why I'll be quieter here.
Firstly, I'll be chained to my desk reading plays for the 2008 Patrick White Playwrights' Award, an extremely worthy prize which was jointly won last year by Timothy Daly and our very own Angus Cerini (whose winning play, Wretch, was recently seen in a wonderful production at La Mama). Secondly, on Sunday I'm beginning my new career as a tv reality star. I will travel to the hamlet of Blinman in the Flinders Ranges to shoot an episode of Bush Slam, a new ABC series on, believe it or not, poetry. (In mitigation: I did explain to the producers, at length, that I am neither a bush nor a slam poet, and what's more, deeply urban, and that I was sure they were asking the wrong person; my protestations only made them more persuasive). My highest ambition on this one is not to make a complete dick of myself on national television, so wish me luck: I'll need lots of it.
Thirdly, after a punishing eight-hour drive through the nightscapes of South Australia, I will be travelling to Hobart for a few days to illuminate some tyro critics on the mysteries of theatre reviewing for Critical Acclaim. This program, which is in conjunction with the excellent Ten Days on the Island festival, is run by Arts Tasmania to encourage critical dialogue, and involves a few of us crrritics; I'll be taking up the baton from James Waites, who will have been warping those tender minds for a few days before I get there.
I'll be taking a laptop on my travails and might have time to check in (although, looking at the frighteningly dense Hobart schedule, maybe not there...) Meanwhile, I'm going into heavy training. Life sure is strange at the moment. But I'm not complaining.
9 comments:
If you get the chance to see Hoipolloi's Floating while you're in Hobart, Alison, you must - and good luck with the reality TV biz!
Thanks Richard - and yes, Hoipolloi is part of that schedule!
Hi Alison,
It's a magic part of the world Blinman - bush girl or not it'll really stimulate your imagination. The drive through the Flinders Ranges to there is stunning. I lived up there on and off for a year working on a station about 30 ks out of Blinman, but I had to the run into the town twice a week for mail and supplies. There was also the odd Mexican Night at the local hall, which well attended by all the station owners and workers who descended on the town for a taco, a shit load of beer and to let the kids loose on a pinata. Here is a little rhyme you might repeat to yourself thinking about the children of the roo-shooter up there who seemed to have particular love of the game.
Hit it hit it hit it
Don't lose your aim
Because if you do
You'll lose your path
You've already hit it once
You've already hit it twice
You've already hit to three times
And now your turn is over
I hope you have a great time. Don't hold onto that city life too hard...All the best
Duncan Graham
That's a real good poem, Duncan.
Thanks Duncan, that's good to hear! I confess, I'm being a little disingenuous (what, moi?), as I was raised in the country.
It's not my poem - it's a bad translation from a traditonal Spanish poem that children sing when they're hitting the pinyata...which actually does rhyme.
O Alison don't spoil the illusion with confessions from the past...You should fit in perfectly.
Yep, all that urban polish is just....polish. You can take the gal out of the country but you can't ....etc etc. I'm sure my rural upbringing (I milked cows, brought in the hay, went mustering and was trodden on and worse by many large quadrupeds) accounts for that die-hard Romanticism.
Quadrupeds? Good llord, no llamas I trust.
Like totally full-on warped!
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