shapeofthings (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shapeofthings) wrote2004-10-10 04:20 pm
shapeofthings) wrote2004-10-10 04:20 pm
hmmmm....
Not the greatest of days. Feeling rather tired and fragile due to lack of sleep. The crows outside my window are still waking us at 4:30am and my patience is thinning. Seems we now have a pair nesting in our tree, right outside the window >:( Languid day, too tired to work on my conference presentation. My addled brain is producing auditory hallucinations again. Election results have brought depression and general gloom. The boys' parents even voted for the evil fucker >:o
Yesterday I went for a walk in the city. Past the old government buildings then along by the Gardens to the river. Follow the river all the way to New Farm then absorb the sights, smells and sounds of the restaurant set, heading along Brunswick Street to the Valley station and training it home. All in all I was gone from three forty-five to nearly half seven.
I went in to pick up the films from the wedding. Disappointed to find my fears about the extreme light were valid - pics not as good as they should have been with better light. Not in the mood to go home to an empty house I wandered off to the old Parliamentary buildings to take some photos of the gargoyles I spotted last time I was in. The light wasn't the best, being late afternoon, but it was pleasant out and I thought I'd see what it was like by the river.
The low sun rays were bouncing off the facets of the Kangaroo Point cliffs, showing Brisbane tuff (the type of rock) in all it's glory. The little marina was full of assorted vessels, with many small yachts doubling as cheap inner-city accommodation. The river people are quite an enigma in this city. It was beautiful by the water, with a cool breeze soothing away the bruised summers heat, drawing me on.
I love walking the waterfront, the only chance you get to see so much of Brisbane's history before we bury it all under concrete and steel. Fewer and fewer of my windows to the past remain as the city expands further into the river. Customs House still stands proudly though, it's local sandstone weathering time and tide with grace. Not too long ago this little city was a busy port. Now the port has been relocated to the mouth of the river, but the impacts of heavy traffic can still be seen.
On reaching the point to loop back into the city a change of heart saw me continue along the new stretch of river-walk covering the Valley and New Farm reaches. Here I found many hidden treasures, but the light was quickly fading and the pictures don't do justice to the WWII air-raid shelters, crumbling docks, once grand houses and half-buried tunnels I found on my way. Though there was still enough light to capture these foreign objects, locked away behind a fence with some old buoys. I'm not sure if they are art or garbage, but I liked them.
Onwards with feet rolling over my slowly swaying trail, watching the fruit bats take to the glowering sky, embarking the night's search for nectar and laden fruit trees, their leathery wings silhouetted against the fading light. Walking onwards, towards the old part of town, recently deemed fashionable again and devoured by the land barons and DYIers. Behind me the city quietly slid into night and a gentle peace.
Sea legs abandoned I wandered on, into the noise and movement of a Saturday night in the city, thoughts marching along. There are still a few surprises left for me in this city, but by far the greatest is the speed at which it exorcises that which I loved. Brisbane, city of reinvention, bury your past and raise this dishonest face for consumption before it, too, lies abandoned.
Yesterday I went for a walk in the city. Past the old government buildings then along by the Gardens to the river. Follow the river all the way to New Farm then absorb the sights, smells and sounds of the restaurant set, heading along Brunswick Street to the Valley station and training it home. All in all I was gone from three forty-five to nearly half seven.
I went in to pick up the films from the wedding. Disappointed to find my fears about the extreme light were valid - pics not as good as they should have been with better light. Not in the mood to go home to an empty house I wandered off to the old Parliamentary buildings to take some photos of the gargoyles I spotted last time I was in. The light wasn't the best, being late afternoon, but it was pleasant out and I thought I'd see what it was like by the river.
The low sun rays were bouncing off the facets of the Kangaroo Point cliffs, showing Brisbane tuff (the type of rock) in all it's glory. The little marina was full of assorted vessels, with many small yachts doubling as cheap inner-city accommodation. The river people are quite an enigma in this city. It was beautiful by the water, with a cool breeze soothing away the bruised summers heat, drawing me on.
I love walking the waterfront, the only chance you get to see so much of Brisbane's history before we bury it all under concrete and steel. Fewer and fewer of my windows to the past remain as the city expands further into the river. Customs House still stands proudly though, it's local sandstone weathering time and tide with grace. Not too long ago this little city was a busy port. Now the port has been relocated to the mouth of the river, but the impacts of heavy traffic can still be seen.
On reaching the point to loop back into the city a change of heart saw me continue along the new stretch of river-walk covering the Valley and New Farm reaches. Here I found many hidden treasures, but the light was quickly fading and the pictures don't do justice to the WWII air-raid shelters, crumbling docks, once grand houses and half-buried tunnels I found on my way. Though there was still enough light to capture these foreign objects, locked away behind a fence with some old buoys. I'm not sure if they are art or garbage, but I liked them.
Onwards with feet rolling over my slowly swaying trail, watching the fruit bats take to the glowering sky, embarking the night's search for nectar and laden fruit trees, their leathery wings silhouetted against the fading light. Walking onwards, towards the old part of town, recently deemed fashionable again and devoured by the land barons and DYIers. Behind me the city quietly slid into night and a gentle peace.
Sea legs abandoned I wandered on, into the noise and movement of a Saturday night in the city, thoughts marching along. There are still a few surprises left for me in this city, but by far the greatest is the speed at which it exorcises that which I loved. Brisbane, city of reinvention, bury your past and raise this dishonest face for consumption before it, too, lies abandoned.