traffic to this thing out to be dead, so i can talk about as many fetishes as i wish now. well, perhaps not. but still. anyhow, having returned, i am neither bigger, nor better, nor more in tune with what i was doing before. in other words, continue with the normal way of things.
i've begun reading the Ash Range by laurie duggan, which supervisor b suggested might be what i am aiming to do. the introduction by don watson gives the context of book, that being a big poem to the idea of gippsland. but i don't think it's working in a fashion that i want too--i think it's playing a lot more attention to reality, to where everything has actually came from.
it's not really my kind of book, actually. i've read about thirty pages of it, and if anything else, i think it shows that i'm not overly interested in the outback of australia. it surprises me how many books and movies and poems are about the outback, or have the outback in it--it's almost as if here is the true idea of australia, with dirt, dull water tanks, drought, and rough edged men and women called barry and sharon, can be found.
(okay, the men and women called barry and sharon just might be leftovers from watching the film Dirty Deeds but still.)
'until very recently i had bit realized that gippsland was an idea as well as a place,' says don watson. i suppose you could say that about everywhere, couldn't you now?