The Daily Screamer

Holiday Fever

2012-01-06T19:41:00.000+10:00

What a zesty year 2011 turned out to be, the tang is still making my eyes burn. Where should I start? I'll start back at the beginning of my holidays, just after my annual five and a half week stint working in Northern New South Wales for ITV2.

Left to Right: Kingsley, Joe, James, Me and Fluffy. Just a few of the ITV2 IACGMOOHN crew.

Last year was a huge one for me. I don't think I have ever recorded so many sounds in a single year. In saying that, I have also never caught so many aeroplanes, driven so many different types of crew cars, or seen such a diverse range of accommodation options. Every crew I have worked with last year was nothing short of fantastic - I am grateful to the film gods (aka: the producers) for bringing us all together. I've been proud of this years work, and what I have accomplished in my professional capacity.

A few days after I drove up from the Tweed Heads "crew city" compound in my poor over-heating car in early December, I started filming with my old friend Dan on a documentary project that we've both been working on since August. I was very excited to be able to kick off holidays and not existing to any form of schedule for a while. Dan even made an amazing cooked "wrap day" breakfast in celebration of the occasion.

Dan and I celebrate on the morning of the last shoot day of the year.

Thus, ever since "wrap day" (nineteen sweet and glorious days ago - and rising), I have been relaxing. It has been a rewarding break. Resting, reading and playing "Transport Tycoon" (this is a computer game I have been playing on and off since 1995 and I still find it enjoyable in bursts - not everyone's cup of tea I must admit... however these days it is open source and available for download from http://www.openttd.org).

The moment holiday celebrations began in my HQ.

I've also been slowly building my ultimate HQ. It's basically one big room in a semi-subterranean dwelling that has a kitchen and a separate bathroom. My washing machine is under the kitchen sink. It is a very comfortable and convenient setting for me to command my android armies and install a compulsory street-party mandate upon Brisbane's good time lovin' inhabitants. I've also been acquiring comfortable furniture so that now more than two people can sit down on a chair at any given time (a total nightmare the night when five people came over and I had only two chairs. Most people chose to stand that night as a result).

Modern, seated comfort at HQ.

The Control station operating at full load.

I've also been basically hopping hopping from one adventure to the next. It has been a marvellous time for catching up with great friends. This seems to be the year for people who haven't been here for a while to come into town and dig it down. It has been so rewarding in every case to share hugs, laugh and share the love. The best, non-schedule oriented holiday a fellow could ask for!

Spending lots of time in the "sleepy time shrine".

'Tis the Season

2011-12-24T21:36:00.000+10:00

I owe you a big blog update, but I'll have to get through the silly season first. Merry Christmas everyone, I hope you have a great time!

Christmas Eve drinks with Fluffy.

Oh the Laziness

2011-12-23T00:43:00.001+10:00

Lying on my bed, typing. In my subterranean HQ. It's a dream deal.

A Pictorial Journey to Broome and Back.

2011-10-18T18:37:00.000+10:00

Brisbane to Perth: five hours of aeroplane induced hilarity.

Overnight in Perth.

Perth to Broome: Two hours of fun with Murray.

Murray suggests kebabs upon arrival in Broome.

The Beagle Bay Church as it appears in reality.

The Beagle Bay Church as it appears in my mind.

Church accommodation. Sleeps four?!?

First thing in the morning.

Inside the Beagle Bay Church. Holy mother of pearl!

Beagle Bay - Broome Road. Red sand undulation extravaganza.

Broome Markets on a Saturday morning.

Guarding equipment on Cable Beach.

Cable Beach. Plenty of room for everyone's sandcastles.

Self portrait time with Murray.

Enjoying the sunshine.

Looking lost in the wilds of Broome.

Looking out towards Roebuck Bay, Broome.

Sunset at James Price Point.

Rima and Murray.

Baobab Trees everywhere.

Shooting time-lapse near the Port of Broome

Recording ripples.

Kabbarl Road Point, Broome.

Exploring the wilderness.

Watching the fishermen.

Another self portrait moment with Murray.

James Price Point

All the above photos were taken at the site of a proposed Gas Refinery.

Does it make sense to you for this to take place in such beautiful country?

A shadowy self portrait.

The great man, Murray. Shooting beautiful time-lapse sequences.

The rocks, they glow like embers in the rays of the setting sun.

A second sunset at James Price Point.

The main road into Broome.

The protest blockade. Corner of Manari Road & Beagle Bay-Broome Road.

Surveying our last sunset in Western Australia.

Corroboree during sunset at James Price Point.

The sunset appreciation society.

Packing away after picture wrap.

Heading home on the plane from Broome.

When It Gets Busy...

2011-10-03T13:13:00.001+10:00

"The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,

Gang aft agley,

An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,

For promis'd joy!"

-or-

"The best laid schemes of Mice and Men,

oft go awry,

And leave us nothing but grief and pain,

For promised joy!"

~ Robert Burns.

This was meant to be a dedicated week of packing up the command pod and relocating my base of operations to the other side of town. Things were organised and brave volunteers and their larger than normal vehicles (usually used for carting around film making equipment) were on standby. My brain was psyched up and ready for this occasion - as by nature, I do not typically enjoy the rigours of moving house.

However, as it always seems to happen when I plan something personally momentous, the call to boom arms is rallied and everything has to be put on hold until a better time. Not that I'm complaining - as I love to be out for a good film-making session with awesome crew, but I have to wonder at times why it is that everything seems to happen all at once.

This week / next weeks adventure is off to Broome in northern Western Australia. It'll be my very first time there and for many years I have thought to myself that it sounds like a great place for me to visit. Much like my other adventures, it is in the name of recording sounds - so I know that my time to lounge around and soak in the scenery will be non-existent, however as per usual the production company has assembled a great crew, all individuals that I have worked with before and get along really well with, thus, as much as there'll be lots of work induced sweating - I'm going to be having a great time indeed.

I know I'll get there in the end, all is not lost. Soon I will be sitting around in my very own spacious, "subterranean" dwelling, rubbing my hands together with frustration for having no shoots on and all of the time in the world to sit around and contemplate my surroundings...

A Pictorial Journey to Cherbourg and Back

2011-09-25T21:49:00.000+10:00

PART ONE: Cherbourg

Sunset (via bush fire smoke)

Out behind the Ration Shed

The Football Field

The Murgon Motor Inn

The corner of Barambah Avenue and Fisher Street

Near the Barambah Creek Crossing

PART TWO: The Gold Coast

The night time view from my room

A similar view, illuminated by morning

Surfers Paradise Hilton Hotel

Local graffiti by local people

PART THREE: Firth Park, Mudgeeraba

Relaxing after lunch

The crowd gathers for the 2011 Queensland Murri Carnival

Relaxing by the sidelines

Punch the Air, it's Doco Season!

2011-09-16T12:58:00.000+10:00

Every year - at about this time, I get hit by a barrage of documentary productions. Jobs that take me away from the comforts of my HQ and introduce me to wonderful concepts that I had never previously considered.

To date, I have documented the sounds for such topics as: crocodile nesting habits along the Tully River, life inspired architecture in Taringa, the madness of the bush turkeys in Maleny, toppling the racist past of white Australia, the the reminiscent tales behind the making of Powderfinger's "Odyssey Number Five" and the Go-Between's "16 Lovers Lane", the urban Murri and the connection to tradition, what it takes to stage Havergal Brian's Symphony No.1 in D minor (or the "Gothic Symphony") in Brisbane, the philosophies of Australian artist William Robinson, indigenous road workers from Ipswich, the exploration of the American dream / identity (all over the USA), the mindset of self harm, the passions of those who study earthworms (all over the world), and most recently - the World Irish Dancing Championships and the Australian competitors who attended in Dublin.

These experiences are always challenging and completely eye-opening. I usually walk away after we finish filming a shroud of disbelief as I come to terms with reuniting myself to my life away from the sound kit. We always work in very small groups when making these productions, and they are always extreme bonding sessions with my fellow crew as we go through the processes of digesting our observations at the end of each day.

Luckily this year is going to go out with bang as I am called to record sounds for some Queensland based documentaries - and whilst they will take me away from home, I won't be SO far away as opposed to my past two years of doco season - which is a relief as I don't have to pack so much stuff (whew). Whilst I won't go into the subjects of these upcoming documentaries right now, I am really looking forward to bursting into observational film making action. I love the pressure of documentaries, as usually a lot rides on the sound recordist. Things happen so quickly, the "talent" is untrained and doesn't make allowance for technicalities and if I don't point my microphones in the right direction, or follow the right conversation at the right time, everything is lost. The challenge that makes the days go so quickly.

However, my eyes are bulging as I look at the scheduling calendar here in my HQ as I realise that I will only re-enter normal lifestyle operations in mid December!!! This is the one sacrifice that time and time again, I make for these jobs. And more than once, the personal ramifications for my mode of employment have cost me dearly indeed...

...But I can't help myself - my job fills me with pride. I love learning through observation. I love meeting new people and making them feel comfortable about our film-making process. I consider myself to be the "Morale Officer" as I genuinely enjoy caring for my fellow shooting crew. These things fill my heart with energy, and then I expend that energy recording the sounds. The job that feeds itself, as when it's all over - I only suffer from a sense of time / social displacement and a few aching muscles. That's not too bad in the scheme of things, considering what I have endured in other modes of employment in the past.

So hear/read me cheering for documentary season. Let the good times begin.

HUZZAH! HUZZAH! HUZZAH!

I'm Trying to be Better!

2011-08-23T09:56:00.000+10:00

My enthusiasm seems to know no bounds,

Which would be a good thing normally,

However it does take a grip on me,

And leaves my heart open to the world.

_._

I try so hard to be transparent,

I'm always trying to express myself clearly,

However it seems that always seem to say too much,

And drive the good people crazy.

_._

There will be a time when I am back in control,

And I won't show my loneliness so openly,

I'm always trying to better myself,

Until then I must learn to be patient and strong.

_._

I also must learn flexibility in words,

Spoken by others - they are not never ending truths,

I hang on to my understanding of their meaning,

Long after they have faded away.

_._

My emotion is complex and deep,

I think I am too hung up on the need for love,

Cuddles and comfort are a state of mind,

That I should be feeding myself.

_._

My mind swirls with words that are better off said,

Long after the sentence leaves my mouth,

For all those good people who hear me out,

I must learn to be quiet so at the right time I can say more.

A Day in the Life

2011-08-22T12:38:00.000+10:00

This past Saturday, I decided to document the highlights of my day by posing in front of my self-timing camera. This took place sporadically from when I awoke until I went to sleep. Below are the results of my photographic essay.

8:33am, Saturday morning regrets.

11:00am, Mid-morning, high-level excitement.

12:30pm, Post lunch dish washing. Awesome!

1:03pm, Beat the rain, save the washing. Priceless memories.

3:40pm, Prelude to an afternoon nap. Good times!

7:28pm, Dinner is served. Absolutely brilliant.

8:40pm, Casual drinks. The epitome of elegance.

10:09pm, Slurred speech. Simply delightful.

10:43pm, A moment of relief. Accompanied with song.

11:08pm, Stop and think. Feeling cheeky.

11:33pm, A moment of consternation. The beer has run dry.

What next? Sheer transcendence.

1:11am, End of day. Fade to black. It's been great.

The Communication Game

2011-06-29T14:50:00.001+10:00

After being in two consecutive relationships for over ten years, I'm still adapting to the ways of a single man. I've stopped shaving, rarely make my bed, eat very minimally, haven't had a haircut since late last October and I haven't purchased any new clothes in months (with the exception of work shirts). Needless to say, my computer use has increased, especially the hours long gaming sessions!

Whilst more than anything I love the company of females, these days I seem to be hanging out with the gents. It seems that some of my lady friends are keeping their distance from me ever since I relocated into the mean streets of the lonely hearts club. I don't blame them, as in all honesty I've had some periods of great confusion and at times such a overwhelming longing for companionship that it has been the stumbling point of a few brilliant friendships. Oops, I've been quite a handful!

The gents are cool, I love my mates dearly but conversationally, it is rare for me to be taken to the intellectual and emotive level of communication that I so much enjoy. Maybe it's a part of my upbringing, but I have always felt emotionally / conversationally closer to females than my male counterparts. Of course, there are many amazing men within my circle who are an exception to this rule - I'd hate for my written generalisations to offend those who are close!

Over the past couple of weeks, I have found peace within myself - and acceptance of my solidarity. I'm no longer waking up in my cold bed feeling unwanted, which is a great relief as such a thought processes first thing in the morning can make the days much harder than they need to be. I'm no longer heading out to social engagements with eyes wide opened, scouring the room for a beautiful face to talk to. In all honesty, in the name of inner peace: I've given up the search. I go out, laugh with friends and meet new people. Then I go home for a long snooze. Nice and simple.

I still miss hugs and intimacy incredibly, yet there's nothing that can be done about that whilst I am on this quest to restore order.

I've had some encounters lately where ladies have approached me, but I've been too shy to generate stimulating discussion. The other night whilst at the theatre, I was approached by an attractive dark eyed, dark haired lady who seemed hell bent on talking to me and finding out what my plans were for the evening. I tried to ramp up my responses to maintain an interesting discussion but my nerves got the better of me and I succumbed to making curious noises and then eventually told her that I had to go back to my friends. Of course, I was really interested in trying to communicate - but I didn't know what to say or where to begin! I became inwardly over-concerned at my failure to remain calm and clear-headed and thus, I chose to escape. Words very rarely fail me, however in this particular situation I was astounded by my inability to roll easily. Of course, after returning to my buddies in the lobby of the theatre to regather myself, I quickly realised my error of judgement and walked back outside to find this rather enthusiastic and talkative woman and try again to be more normal - but she was long gone into the shadows of Montague Road.

I would love to know why I falter so greatly when a member of the opposite sex makes motions to express her interests. Most guys seem to revel when they are approached, but I always seem to not know what to do or how to respond and then crumble into a heap of gnarled gibberish.

This is a remarkable and complex world in which we live, and inter-personal communication is an art form that whilst I realise that I can talk myself blue at the best of times, my insecurities definitely get in the way of meaningful and stimulating conversation in situations that revolve around attraction. Maybe it's a self confidence issue? I'm not sure but it is certainly something else for me to work on! The lessons of self improvements never end, which is probably a good thing as life would get pretty boring if there wasn't self education coupled with the outcome of eventual enlightenment!

The Free Memories

2011-05-31T12:10:00.001+10:00

Last week I was in Cairns, a place I had the fortunate opportunity to live near from 2002-2004. The place still takes my breath away and the land up there still speaks to me very strongly. I even went back up to the hills around the Hidden Valley and visited my old home. What a place it was to live in! I remembered "Missus", a Pademelon who became my close friend during the long days of not knowing what to do with myself during my long contemplation in those hills.

A photo taken of Missus (eating potato) back in the day.

We would call each other with a clicking sound. If I was sleeping in, she would stand outside and make the noise. If I was hanging around and needed some company, I'd do my version of the sound and she'd come out of the bushes that surrounded the house. We'd just hang around each other quietly. She'd nibble on grass and I'd listen to the amazing birds. This situation would happen for hours almost every day. She had a little joey in her pouch that would occasionally pop it's head out for a look around. I've never met such a human tolerant wild creature. Every now and then, the predatory Pademelon males with their big chests would intimidate Missus. She would make a growling sound and I would know that she didn't wish to be seduced by them. It would be my sign to stand up and stare at the rogues. They would puff their chests up and look back at me with angry eyes, but they'd slap their tales into the ground and jump away. Missus was one of my best mates during those strange days.

I became convinced of earth magic in this place when I lived there. There's so much nature that I couldn't help but feel its energy flowing within my form. To live so close to the wilderness, hearing the sounds of the creatures and imagining at night the laughter of the Junjdy man that was supposed to be living in the area. I'd leave him small treats (as I was told to do by one of the local Elders) just to make sure he'd cause me no trouble. The place was my very own Mythago Wood, in every possible way.

Just to remind me of this energy whilst I was calling through town, I was touched by a large Birdwing Butterfly as she flew down and sat on my arm for a few seconds as I stood looking at the Barron Falls whilst listening to it's steady roar. I watched her float away into the forest with a smile on my face and in my mind gave thanks to the World for such a beautiful moment.

The Attack of Party Man

2011-05-12T12:22:00.000+10:00

It is two-thirty o'clock on a Saturday afternoon at the Evans Street Household. The X-box is dishing up merciless attacks on the foul-mouthed (and slightly aggressive) citizens of "Liberty City" in the form of reckless high speed driving and the odd "dangerous dive". A "dangerous dive" is when you catch a taxi down to the heliport, hijack a helicopter, fly to maximum height, name a target, and then launch yourself out of the pilot's seat. That is the dangerous bit. Of course, the dive bit implies that if you as long as you land on water in this game, you'll survive the massive free-fall. Thus, the entire 'dangerous dive" experience aims at trying to land in fountains or backyard swimming pools. The most breath-taking dives can be done between the spans of twin bridges, however there is a high percentage chance that a steel cable could get in the way.

As this repetitive but endlessly amusing process is taking place, Lucas tells me that there is a surprise party taking place this very evening for our friend Dave.

"How many people will be there, man?", I ask Lucas - my brain whirling at the thoughts of a crazy, pumping party with hundreds of invited guests squeezing for space whilst dancing as one to some form of ultra powerful bass woofer.

"Oh, I don't know - his close friends. Maybe 20", Lucas responds - his eyes narrowing as my eyeballs roll to the back of my head as my imagination screams to a grinding halt.

"Hmm, we're going to need booze. There's beers in the fridge but maybe we should take something a little more classier. Say, some spirits", I chime.

"Uhh, I'm pretty tired. I don't think I feel like drinking too much tonight. I guess we could get some whiskey though", responds Lucas.

I pause, looking for some form of reasonable response. "Hey man, we don't have to drink it all. We're adults. We can just have a few drinks and then leave the party early and bring the bottle home for another day".

And this is where expectations are established. Despite a lengthy debate that followed soon after this statement where both Lucas and I recalled the many situations over the years where we have bought spirits and polished them off in a single sitting, we both encourage each other by repeating "yeah, we're adults. We can moderate our alcohol".

However, some time in between this mutual, "let's-not-get-too-crazy-tonight" party-pact and returning back home from the bottle shop, something changed within us both. The minute we walked back in the door (with the full knowledge that a taxi has been ordered and well on it's way to collect us), we discuss having a good sized, cheeky shot to get us into the party mood. Thus, as the taxi arrived out the front and tooted the horn - we were downing the first, hefty shot of Canadian Club.

By the time we arrive at the party residence, Lucas and I have worked up a thirst. We're the first guests to arrive and we offer a hand in the kitchen before realising that it's a dress up party and the theme is "Dave". Thus, after a visit to Dave's cupboard (he's at the cinema being distracted by a friend), Lucas and I have costumes. I am wearing Dave's grey waistcoat, his red and yellow ray ban sunglasses and some form of strange hunting cap. I am trying to be Dave. Lucas dons a small hat found on Dave's cupboard top shelf and is dissatisfied with his decision. This is when we are asked to taste some shots that the household plan to dish up to all the guests when they arrive. Three shots of various tastes, one pleasant, the other two... a bit iffy.

None the less, the bottle of Canadian Club started to pour. The first two drinks were small servings of spirits and a generous swerving of cola. After about half an hour, Lucas and I were well into the last third of the bottle. We'd pour mixes for each other that were ruthlessly strong. Our pledge to each other had failed, and we were both well on our way.

Needless to say, by the time that Dave actually arrived at his party - an hour and a half after we turned up - the Canadian Club was all gone. This was only the beginning, as "Party Man" had not yet arrived.

This by all means was a lovely party. Maybe about 25 people, all friends from Dave's life but from different circles. It was a good opportunity to meet new people and have a good chat. Unfortunately, after half a bottle, I started to get louder and more crazy with my humour. Nothing distasteful, but I do like to put on a funny show when I've had a few under my belt. The gags were well received and everything was going fine. Lucas and I were existing on people's hand-me-down liquor, mixing up some pretty hairy concoctions in the process.

Dave's lovely partner was wearing a superman costume for the party, and she had painted a black mask on her face with some face paint. I became fascinated by this mask and asked if I could have one too. Thus, as the mask was drawn upon my face, a distant cosmic explosion dislodged several tonnes of highly concentrated nitrous oxide gas and sent it hurtling through space at such a rate that a few atoms survived the collision with the Earth's atmosphere and ended up being directly injected up my nose. Once my mask was complete, I had transformed into "Party Man".

Party Man unveiled

Now Party Man is a super hero, showing everyone how "cool" you can be if you get totally smashed and talk some seriously silly nonsense. However, before you become excited you need to know that Party Man at this particular occasion was not the best ambassador for his cause.

Party Man feels the power

Usually, Party Man whips the most the most casual parties into raging moshpits of cerebellum survival. His tactics usually always get those who are restraining themselves from insanity up and standing. There are always people at parties who'd really like to throw sensibility into the air and let go, but usually just sit there acting meek and mild. Party man can sense this ruse. All these sorts of people usually need is a little encouragement and a few of Party Man's relentless and nonsensical party-oriented statements. "you can do it", or "the power is within" are his usual catch cries.

Party Man gets the party rocking

Party Man also has amazing stamina and his super ability of raging all night long that cannot be met by most mortals. The only downside to this amazing Herculean party energy is that it fades extremely quickly upon the first signs of sunlight and Party Man vanishes, turning back into normal ol' Chris.

Now, during the evening, Party Man broke up an argument between two young men and got them to shake hands and respect each other's right to fair speech. Party Man also walked Ladies to their taxis whilst uttering not one word of sense, yet remaining totally professional. Party man even cleared some dishes to make room for shot glasses and not very graceful cocktail conctoctions (Captain Morgan and lemonade, anyone?) Party Man could have kept on kicking for many more hours until...

"Ahh man, I have to go home, I'm exhausted", Lucas mentioned after finding me out on the street waiting for a street car that for all good reasons would never eventually appear.

"Ohh mannnnn. But it's only one-thirty in the morning. It's so early. You can do it! You can do it!", Party Man responded with a charismatic, cheeky grin.

"No. I'm done", replied Lucas - who was definitely suffering from fatigue. "It's time to go home".

Party Man gulped. He looked around the empty street and realised that whilst in his haze of party right-doings, the party had indeed wound down and was potentially on it's way out. Party man paused, confused. He reflected on his prime objectives and couldn't understand how he could leave a party that was about to die. It was his duty to give oxygen to the fires of celebration and get everyone up out of their comfortable arm chairs and back into the warm embrace of insanity.

Party Man battles with his inner-conscience.

And it was with this thought that Party Man vanished, leaving me standing cold and confused on a dark street in Paddington, wearing some crazy eye-makeup and hanging out with an old mate who needed to get home for bed. Rationality seeped from somewhere deep inside my mind, an echo from the distant past and collided with the few on-duty braincells that could report for active duty.

Home called, and thus I arrived back there - all wobbly legged. I scrambled for bed, but when I was lying down the room would spin and my stomach would turn. It was a mad moment, drifting off to sleep and nausea tickling at the back of my throat.

Without any sick-making activities, I awoke in the following morning feeling very chirpy, however as the day continued, I became more unravelled. I couldn't even make it over to see my dear Mum for Mother's Day. I had failed as a son and as a human being. I had failed my kidneys and liver. So much pressure that wasn't there yesterday suddenly filled my peaceful void. Party Man had once again, and left my brain a dry, wheezing husk of grey matter. He should have never been invoked, but alas he was. It's a cruel world being his alter-ego.

Thanks for nothing, Party Man.

The Dream

2011-04-29T07:51:00.003+10:00

Once again I have awoken from a beautiful series of dreams that have been visiting me since about halfway through my Irish escapade.

Usually, when the dreams are as vivid - I take heed and try to do my best to learn and understand. This particular dream is an exception as I feel like it's meaning is currently beyond me, but is so vivid that the details remain fresh in my mind upon waking.

Since I was a youth, I've had dreams where I can fly. Most of the time, I fly a foot off the ground, weaving around at great speed. I don't have these flying dreams all the time but they come to me when I am in within moments of change. I love these flying dreams as they are exhilarating.

The dream I have been having these past couple of weeks adds a new reoccurring element.

Basically, I am flying around. Sometimes I am in a city. Other times I am flying over oceans, or weaving through a forest or over sand dunes. No matter where I am in my dream, I always end up being somehow drawn to a large circular field full of long, flowing grass gently moving in the breeze.

In the middle of this field, stands an almighty tree with giant boughs. The tree is very impressive, much taller than any tree I have ever seen with my eyes. The tree is so tall that at the base of the trunk is daylight, but at the top of it's canopy are stars.

As I fly closer to the tree, I can see coloured ribbons of light gently flowing over the trunk and branches. I usually end up flying around the base of this tree in a lazy circular "holding pattern".

The ribbons of light extend out to me and each ribbon produces a silent, vibrational whisper. As I fly around the tree, these ribbons catch against me. As the ribbons touch my skin, the whispers of vibration that they produce share wisdoms and concepts that amaze me in the dream state (but I always forget these when I awaken, d'oh - maybe concepts not meant for my conscious world).

The dream always ends with me somehow attaining a level of enlightenment from flying through these energy ribbons which affects my normal dream flying. Instead of hovering just above the ground (as I always seem to do) I shoot upwards into the tree and end up being entwined in the ribbons of light. It all happens so quick that I seem to fuse with the energy and become a part of the tree.

When I awaken, I'm feeling utterly fantastic. I always lie in bed trying to understand this spectacular and rapid end to the dream. Last night was probably the 8th time I've had this dream in the space of two weeks.

I can't complain about waking and feeling so jubilant, but I would love to know what this dream is about. How has it suddenly come into my life?

Day of the Lucas, Scratches in the Night.

2011-04-27T00:40:00.031+10:00

The effects of time/space relocation are playing with my mind in the most extraordinary way.

I was collected from the airport by my dear friend Lucas at 7am, who drove me home to a screaming reception by some close friends (including a beautiful, nourishing breakfast by another good friend Lucas - who also happening to be celebrating his birthday). I had a beer as well, with the full intention to burn brightly into the early evening, however the quiet, luring atmosphere in my control capsule had me closing the hatch and sealing myself within at around midday and setting all the stereophonic settings to "Explosions In The Sky".

Aided by these dream-like rock orchestra instrumentals, I threw away the advice of every single person who I have encountered and discussed any matter regarding jet-lag and slept like a log. An out of control tree trunk hurtling down the steep valley of fatigue. Right in the middle of the day. The rules were to stay awake until evening. I failed the test.

Thus, at the witching hour, I am still wide awake. Laa-laalaaa, SOOO AWAKE! I'm sore, and thinking too much about the crazy designed airline seats that are made for people who are tiny and only have one buttock/leg. If anything could make me rant, it would be on the subject of the comfort provided by airlines in economy class. I have ranted about this subject before, and will save you all another by changing topic, mysteriously.

I've been offered a job at the beginning of next week, but the more I think about it - I really need to stick by my plan for a great escape. Let someone else do it. There is so much swirling around in my head (all in a good way of course), I need to get off the crazy train and hit the skids. A random text message from a complete stranger prompted me to this standing by my morals.

I've got a list of important things that I need to do: Live a little. Love a lot. Be extraordinary. Shine the golden beacon at the clouds swirling above the city and discover the meanings of wonderful, intoxicating dreams. Smile. Bear hugs and imitation Irish jigging. Long conversations that meander for days. Discovery. Enlightenment. Enchantment. Laughter. Light. Sing for a Goddess. Listen. Learn. Reveal my super powers to the world. Enjoy. Give thanks to a universe for all that there has been and ever will be.

It's hard to focus. Time dilation inside my cranium, green rolling fields still on the insides of my eyelids. Words spoken by a voice I have not yet heard echoing in my mind. If I sleep, will wake again in the now? A normal day, washing clothes and making calls? No, I'm not ready for that. I'm going to fly in the night, around the moon. I'll settle in to the nest in my cave just before sunrise and sleep. And then, no matter what happens - awaken in a golden age of freedom.

I just looked at my worlds clock to see that it's after 3pm over in Ireland. It's all so confusing. I'm 7 hours behind behind where I actually am. I'm trying to be quiet and keep still, mindful that some people have to work tomorrow. I had best stop my tapping, I don't want to drive us all mad.

Crew Moments

2011-04-24T18:51:00.001+10:00

They say that a picture is worth one thousand words. This is a good thing as last night I partied hard as I said my goodbyes to Ireland. I don't think that I could write too much today.

Below are a few select moments observing our team. Names will be omitted to protect the innocent. Thanks to those I worked with, it's been grand.

Bloggus Interuptus

2011-04-22T15:35:00.001+10:00

I wrote a massive entry last night about how I fell asleep in an interview yesterday, but now the gremlins in the system have stolen all 10 paragraphs.

Thus, with only minutes to spare before I start my new day - I will summarise:

Dark, quiet room. Lots of interviews to record in a static setup. Struggled through the second interview, remained awake until lunch. After lunch, last interview. Involuntary slumber hard to beat. Pinched myself on the keg really hard. Could not stand up and shake the dreams away. Fell asleep. Whilst sleeping, interviewee started speaking in Gaelic. I woke up and thought I was tripping out, never to understand the English language again. Small panic session as the cobwebs of impromptu sleep cleared.

Afterwards, a funny dinner out with the noisy gang of Australian filmmakers at an upmarket basement restaurant. I ordered a Thai dish in an Italian restaurant in Dublin. Suffice to say, Thai beef salad was more like strips of beef on a bed of lettuce, all soaked in soya sauce.

Had a great night, just awoke from a good 7 hours of sleep (until I had a dream that I was being chased by a zombie rock band through a deserted house that had very flimsy doors). Second last day of shooting. Let's go!!!

One Crazy Day

2011-04-21T08:15:00.001+10:00

Team C, Mark and Allan spend their days in the hall recording non-stop Irish Dancing. Are they living the dream?

The people arrive in droves to observe the dancing. The sheer amount of "punters" makes me inwardly scream as I usually have to spend great portions of my day pushing through them so I can get from one location to another. Some punters can turn violent, as I found out yesterday. They don't like it if you stand in their way and block the view of the dancing. Nothing I can do about it, just doing my job.

The sad expression on my face is due to having a really hard day at work. I won't go into detail, but let's just say that I wasn't having much fun. I'm glad that today is now over.

The technical crew sit on a grassy knoll in the warm Irish spring afternoon sun. This is where we go for debrief and venting. It's a beautiful spot and the sun, combined with the pleasant surrounds helps us to restore order. Loud laughter can be often heard here as we all exchange crazy stories.

My mate Dan, chilling out near a rubbish bin. He keeps me sane when I'm at boiling point and reminds me to breathe. He also digs chilling out near rubbish bins. Maybe it's the smell? I'm not sure, but this is what he likes. I never argue. He's from New Zealand.

The Shooting Frenzy.

2011-04-19T06:47:00.001+10:00

Big days of big wigs, intense makeup, eye-bursting bright costumes and body movements that defy human physics.

The World Irish Dancing Championships are a real blow-out. The competition is intense, both on stage and behind the scenes.

There's also a real air of atmosphere of celebration created by the participants and their families. Even the President of the Republic of Ireland rocked up today to check out the proceedings!

Imagine good couple of thousand spectators watching these fluid moving young people strut / jig their stuff. Encouragement and love seem to be the big ticket items. It also seems to me to be a big semi-excuse for catchups with old friends, fellow performers and dance teachers (former dancers).

We've spent today following certain young people on their quest for crazily big trophies. It's fun to be involved with these families.

I have no idea why, but I'm a hit with the kids. They rush up to me shouting "Hey Chris". No joke, they swarm in their droves, usually in groups of 3-6, all day long. Children I have never met (or at least remember meeting). My name has somehow spread through the ranks of the little people. They all want to know how I'm going and are keen for chats. Given the time, I entertain them with wild stories, mad gesticulations and a generous serving of the best Australian drawl I can create.

The guys I'm working with are calling me "the yeti", presumably because I'm large in stature, a little bit scruffy (I need a haircut) and carry a fair bit of gear. Perhaps after hours they hear my screeches in the night, for I usually do so when I hear the performers staying in my hotel practice in their hard shoes late into the evening.

I'm becoming increasingly interested at how quick the dancers legs move. Much like electrified crickets on speed. The idea of Irish dancing seems to be: move your legs as wildly as you can and click your shoes to the beat of the never-ending piano and accordion tune at a BPM rate that makes hardcore electronic techno sound like an atmospheric Brian Eno track. Whilst this is happening, you keep your arms by your side, maintain a perfectly still torso and somehow manage a smile despite the enormous fatigue that one must surely feel whilst dancing the jig.

We have some huge days of shooting coming up, and I am now six days away from the 30 hours of transit required for me to get back to the sanctuary of my cave. Mmm, cave - dark and quiet... Maybe I am a yeti? I'll have to check with the guys in the morning to see...

Visual Memories

2011-04-18T08:41:00.001+10:00

Yup, too tired to write much other than how I have been broken into the world of the dance. It is a crazy business. Young ladies with too much makeup and large wigs. Young lads full of self importance and crazy jackets. Colourful dance teachers siding against other colourful dance teachers. Parents & kids everywhere. It's going to be a crazy week.

Here's some pics, I'm unfortunately too wiped out to write any more, but I'm sure you get the jist.

'Twas the Night Before Show Time

2011-04-17T07:55:00.001+10:00

Belfast was an amazing city, without a doubt. It is a stark contrast to the cities of the Republic of Ireland. The British influence was in the architecture and city layout. A fascinating place with healthy, vibrant people forging a new world.

Before we left this city, we went on an open top double decker bus tour to look at the famous murals on Falls Road, commemorating the actions of freedom fighters, people who gave their lives for freedom and innocent civilians killed in the time of the troubles.

I was deeply moved when we drive alongside the "peace wall", a gigantic brick and iron fence, covered with graffiti asking for freedom from these offensive structures which separate the people in a desperate attempt to curb potential violence.

However, these days are different. Whilst mad things still happen occasionally in this city, most people seemed motivated for change and optimistic that the dark days are over. With this positivity forged into my mind, it was time to leave. The myth that Belfast is a hard place was broken in my mind. The wild, green, crew bus tour of Ireland was drawing to a close.

Yes, after a good tour to the west, south and north of Ireland - it was now time to return to Dublin and settle in to my new home for the next week in the Red Cow Hotel. Yes, the entire purpose for this trip was becoming apparent, it is time for the 2011 World Irish Dancing Championships to begin.

I am writing this on the eve before the week of rapid jigs, flamboyant costumes and undoubtedly intense competition.

We have had the pleasure to meet many talented young people on the road who are heading to this event, and even right now through the hotel walls, I can hear the pulsing beat of an anonymous young dancer preparing just before tomorrows grand beginning.

We went to the venue for the Championships, at Citywest for a look around at the stages this morning to plan our coverage and approach for the following week.

My old mate Dan Schist (pictured above) and I spent last night before the meeting refreshing ourselves with pints in a nearby pub. I had 8 Guinnesses. As Dan said, the barman was a machine.

Needless to say, today was a bit of a struggle for me - but I managed to pull through with a crazy smile on my face.

Dublin itself is a beautiful city, with many well dressed men and ladies bustling around on the weekend, enjoying the Craic.

We have a good number of local crew working with us on this shoot and all of these people seemed absolutely lovely. Needless to say, they were all asking me today when are we having crew drinks. I could sense much enthusiasm for the pints amongst these good folk, however after last nights efforts, replied that we should wait until the bulk of the following week is behind us.

Sleep is in order. My alarm clock is set. The next seven days are going to be intense for so many reasons! Wish me luck, for once I reach the other side, I'll be going home.

Belfast, the Craic Town

2011-04-15T08:22:00.001+10:00

We started our morning in the misty Waterford, a ripper harbour-side town in the very south of Ireland. It was a sleepy hamlet when we motored out for our trip to the North.

The next stop was in Dublin, where we said goodbye to Jimmy, our driver. It was a sad moment for me as this guy had kept me laughing in the face of insanity for some days now - but it was his time to go.

Our new driver Tommy was a great find. Full of factual information about the history of "the troubles", he kept me riveted during the entire journey north to Belfast.

We visited Belfast Castle to capture sone scenic, misty shots of this city.

Physically, it really reminds me of Brisbane here in this city. After the scenic shots, we drove up to the housing estates off the infamous Bells Road, looking for murals depicting the almighty struggles within this country. The sight of this mad chap with all his gear on lured many curious locals to come up and ask what was going on. As soon as they heard my accent, it was street party time. I felt so welcome, and my how people laughed when "turned up" my Aussie accent.

The next stop was a curry house across the road from my accommodation. No joke, the best curry I can ever recall having.

Tomorrow we move back down to Dublin where I will settle in for a week of world championship Irish dancing. I'll be happy not to have to re-pack my bags for this period of time!!!

Oh Transport Captain.

2011-04-14T06:29:00.001+10:00

It was a big day today, with the crew being tested by remote locations, not to mention no lunch break for the much needed energy hit that we needed to maintain the energy required to push through until the end of day.

After my experiences today, this is a reminder to those who work in my profession that no matter what - no matter how under the pump you are, there's absolutely no need to talk down to others and forget that each human has their own emotions to deal with as a result of your own inability to manage stress.

I just spent a good hour with our transport captain, calming and reminding him that there's no love lost after he was blamed for problems today that had nothing to do with him.

I'm talking about a great man who prides himself in his professionalism who has taken it to heart that he thinks he's failed us, which to me is the penultimate failing on our behalf in the management of utilising people of great experience and skill from other industries in our quest to make television.

This kind soul has buckled under the weight of one too many blame shifting sessions. I feel embarrassed as we have been friends since we first met in Dublin some days ago, and I understand through witnessing obtuse behaviour how hurt he has become after the insensitivities served upon him.

The documentary business can be cruel and tough on those who aren't familiar with the wild ways of this format of production. It breaks my heart to see an unquestioningly loyal man smashed by those who don't stop to care about the way they use their words.

Jimmy, I am a huge fan. I hope you read this now that I have given you my contact information, and in time know that amongst us in the trenches, the people who turn the cogs in this sometimes ruthless machine that we'll be friends for life. I'm going to miss you, mate.

Dungarvan, County Waterford.

Awe Induced Expletives.

2011-04-13T08:07:00.001+10:00

It's very rare for me to spontaneously launch into a rich string of four lettered words unless I am:

1) Confronted by danger
2) Confronted by ignorance, or
3) Too inebriated to form useful sentences.

However, in this case - I have spent some days now dropping vulgar terms as I am continually confronted by natural beauty so sublime that all common sense leaves my slightly frozen noggin.

Yup, Ireland is riddled with awe inspiring curse words uttered from my own lips. Over every hill or beyond every forest induces another lengthy string of words that, if analysed, basically mean: "Oh my look at that, I have never seen anything so wonderful before. I will need a cigarette, a cold shower and a good lie down if I am to continue recording sounds".

Take today for example. We left Ballinrobe, and headed to the beautiful town of Galway for a toilet break. Did I take any pictures? No. I did however mention some swear words as I looked around, kissed a rock for a friend of mine and inserted it into a dry-stone wall for safe keeping and then bundled myself back onto the crew bus with a mournful, longing expression on my face as I tried to understand how I could soak up thus miraculous country in so few days.

Via the picturesque town of Limerick (where indeed I tried to recite a limerick for the benefit of our crew but only got into the first line before once again being flummoxed by this amazing landscape), we made our way South-East to County Waterford and the sea-side town of Tramore.

It was cold here, with strong winds whipping in from the Irish Sea. Of course, I was wearing a T-shirt, my sleeveless puffer jacket and whooped with delight as my sensation of feeling gave way to the burn of the chill. I love being freezing cold. There must be something wrong with me!

I have 12 hours up my sleeve until I next raise my boom and strap on my 32kg of sound gathering apparatus - so a good sleep is in store before I continue my foul-mouthed road trip in this miraculous country. I can't wait to see what visual delights lie in store tomorrow.

To Be Sure, To Be Sure!

2011-04-12T09:20:00.001+10:00

Whew, almost 20 hours without Internet access really tested me out. Whoa, I've got important blog updates to do - life on the road is crazy enough when you can't reach out and fill the blogosphere with more rambling paragraphs!

So, where do I start? Well, we left Dublin after an overnight stay and with the aid of Jimmy O'Rielly, our exceptional local transport captain (and ex cabaret performer), we headed out of town for a sweet three hour drive to County Mayo.

Along the way, I saw landscapes, ruins and so much greenery that my brain began to destabilise due to over-stimulus. The first place we went to was Athlone, on the banks of the infamous Shannon river.

Whilst we were here, I hugged my second ever walled fortress, Athlone Castle. I've decided to make it my personal mission to hug any stone castle I come across in life, in order to share the love with a cold place that was built for strategic defence and the perpetuation of border control. I also took some really crappy pictures, which you can disdainfully see below.

After stopping, we motored onwards to the curious little town of Swinford. I say curious because the place was truly strange, in a loveable and deserted kind of way.

A few inquisitive children were hanging around, asking me tough questions and imploring me to let them touch the fluffy microphone. Somehow, we were booked into the upstairs of a pub - which was great as I was really stinging for some drinks.

Ireland had really turned up the heat for our arrival, however things returned to normal in the evening and created some testicle-inverting, cold temperatures. The ol' mankini will have to wait for another day.

During the night, I saw a bunch of kids playing in the pub accommodation corridors. One of the little girls was dressed in white and when I asked her why she was so dressed up, she told me that she'd had her first communion in the morning. One young lad who was with her added that this little girl had vomited during this ceremony, and the little girl added that the vomit had almost hit her priest's shoes. They laughed, and in a way, the little girl almost seemed proud of this fact.

The next morning bought about a beautiful, sunny day. Perfect for a morning of more general vision shooting - giving me ample tine to take some pictures around town.

As we boarded our green bus, the craziest hail / sleet / rain I have ever seen started to blow through. One minute it was tanning weather, the next it was time to huddle under an umbrella.

Talk about volatile! Cold breezes relentlessly blew through the seams in my clothing and made me feel like I was wearing cheesecloth in the Antarctic. None the less, the landscapes remained absolutely and vividly stunning once the bizarre tempests passed.

Our next stop was a town called Knock, where there is a massive shrine built to commemorate the appearance of the Virgin Mary to 15 locals in the mid 18th Century. I'm not a religious man, but the scale of this place did blow me away, plus the sight of all the shops selling religious knick-knacks lining the main street also made me wonder how it is that people can profit from other people's beliefs.

This evening, we arrived in a town called Ballinrobe. We're staying in brilliant accommodation (JJ Gannons) where not only did the head chef, Paul help bring in our bags, but he also cooked one of the best organic salmon dishes I have EVER tasted.

After dinner, we had a quick production meeting, where I downed a few quick pints of Guinness. Sound department didn't really have much to offer during these talks so rather than prattle on and bore the pants off my fellow crew, I took it upon myself to invoke the spirit of the Irish and bring some cheer to the proceedings.

Following the meeting, I rolled into the elevator before heading up to my room for a quick, naked mosh. I'm trying hard to pass out solidly, preparing myself for another big day of shooting.

Last Day in London, First Day of Shooting

2011-04-10T04:57:00.002+10:00

Another hot, sunny day in London. I even got sunburnt. It also has been a very busy day on the job. It's always a pleasure to hold the boom aloft and get some sounds into the file system. A busy day means that I don't have many words to share, thus please enjoy my random pictures of the day to make up for my silence!

The last picture is of Andy, our awesome transport dept driver. A real champion.

Currently sitting at Heathrow waiting for the plane to Dublin. Feeling a little tired (13th hour on), and very keen to fly and find my way to my new bed for the night!!!

ADDITONAL NOTE

I arrived in Dublin about an hour and a half ago. I made it into the pub just under an hour of being in this country as I couldn't resist the urge to quench my fatigued palette with a tasty Guinness. It is good stuff, just wish I could be sharing this very special moment with you all as I have a smile from ear to ear. Yup, the Craic had already got me. I'm feeling the power, but it's more-so due to incredible fatigue. I will be back for more but right now I'm feeling the burn after 17 hours of alertness, so sleep I must!

A Grand Day Out With the Sun-Worshippers

2011-04-09T04:20:00.002+10:00

I awoke early this morning, apparently my brain had decided that it had enough dreaming and figured it'd be more fun to get up and moving. This was at 4am, hardly a time of day for high-fives and jubilant air-punching. Strangely enough, I did feel like having a beer at this early hour. Needless to say, I did not heed my compulsive urge this time around.

After a few hours of trying to go back to sleep, I decided that a walk around the nearby Shepherd's Bush Common was in order, and I'm glad I did as the morning light was golden and rather beautiful. Yes, it has been another balmy, blue-skied day here in London - and even at that time in the chilly morning air, the sun loving folk were out in good numbers socialising under the white blossom trees.

Breakfast was in a quiet cafe I found called Panini's, with free wifi as a side-dish accompanying a cooked English breakfast. I studied my Tube map that Lawrence gave me yesterday, when he told me that most locals have no idea and if I was foolish enough to ask for directions, I should be prepared to walk the opposite direction to the way that I'd been shown.

The aim of my day was to catch up with Skye, an amazing artist, writer and a dear friend. We had arranged to meet just outside of Oxford Street Station at midday. As I was running considerably early, I wandered around this crowded area until I found a moment of sanctuary in the leafy Cavendish Square.

Eventually, I made my way back to the meeting spot and waited. Skye tried to sneak up on me as she wanted to push me into a stranger and yell "I love you", a trick I used to play on unsuspecting friends back when I was at university. Unfortunately for her, my keen senses detected her approach and I remained untainted by any form of spontaneous public humiliation.

Skye was keen to take me out of this very busy part of town and took me via the Tube train to Liverpool Street Station, where she introduced me to the charm of Hackney.

We wandered through a labyrinth of windy, cobblestone alleyways through to the very lively Brick Lane and then continued through to Haggerston Park, an amazing and extensive community garden complete with goats, ducks, chicken and pigs. All of these creatures were basking in the sun. The laziest bunch of farmyard creatures I had ever seen!

This area of town surprised me on many levels. It was quiet, clean and calm - nothing like the densely packed areas I had only seen in this city on my travels. Families strolled around, smiles and laughter coming from almost every group of people we passed. We wandered down by Regent's Row so I could get up close to a longboat and have a moment to dream of another life, cruising the canals of this crazy country.

We then moved down Goldsmith's Row to a large park called London Feilds. When Skye and I entered the park, we noticed a huge gathering of people. I initially thought that there must have been a concert on, yet as we moved closer I realised that hundreds of people were just chilling out, loving the sunlight. I get a real kick out of how the locals get out and about when the sun is shining strongly here. The social energy is amazing in these situations. Skye pointed out that people here in London are like wildflowers, and they blossom in spring when the sun is shining after a cold, hard winter of frowns.

After some great catchup talk, plotting and scheming, it was time to head back to Bethnal Green station for a farewell so I could catch the Tube back to the hotel before the peak hour crowds stormed the underground.

This was another fine day for me to remember in this mad ol' town.

Tomorrow is a bit different, my first day of shooting, followed by an evening flight to Dublin. Yes, it has been great to visit London and catching up with two amazing friends, but considering that this is a working trip - it's probably nigh time to get the sound kit out and ready for a 7am call-time of duty!

Smashing the Jet Lag!

2011-04-08T05:15:00.002+10:00

Well, what a very long trip it was - however, for the first time ever I managed to actually sleep on an aeroplane - so when I arrived here in the UK, I wasn't completely tarnished by the effects of time travel. The excellent people in the company I am working for booked me exit row seating, so I could stretch out my long legs for a really comfortable trip. I also made good friends with the hosties on the plane, and they continually showered me with crazy gifts and extra tasty snacks throughout the journey.

As soon as we finally made our way to the hotel (took us a while as the driver insisted on listening to his Tom Tom, which was persistently taking us the opposite direction to the one we had to travel), it was time to get down to a local pub for coffee and two pints of beer at 9.30am. Yes, I did drink the coffee and beer at the same time, in alternating sips. A taste sensation indeed! Tipsy and energised, I was ready to roll into the new day!

The next item on my agenda was to meet up with one of the best fake fighters (stage combat choreographer) on this planet, Mr Lawrence Carmichael for a guided tour around the city where he has been living for many years.

Little did I know but he had planned to awe my senses with a visit to some pretty crazy landmarks via my first ever tube ride. Our first stop was West End, followed by a stroll through Soho and then a gentle meander down to Trafalgar Square to cuddle the lions at the base of Nelson's Column.

Climbing the Lion (making of)

Lawrence then pulled another rabbit out of his hat by leading me down through a beautiful park, lined with tulips and many happy locals enjoying the sunshine. He told me that he knew someone down the road and that we should pop in for a visit.

Lo and behold, we ended up at a very large and familiar household, however unannounced visitors were unfortunately not quite welcome beyond the intense perimeter fence patrolled by guards holding semi-automatic weapons.

After a quick bit of gawking at men dressed in red and wearing the most powerful and large hats I have ever seen (not to forget their curious, spontaneous marching on the spot), it was time to make our way back towards Covent Garden for a quick drink.

Sadly, this was where Lawrence had to leave me so he could go and teach a actors how to attack one another without serious personal injury. He showed me how to catch the tube back to Shepherd's Bush (where my hotel is) and left me to dodge the insane amount of people cramming themselves onto the peak hour, afternoon tube trains.

I am very lucky to have another day to myself tomorrow before we start shooting, and I cannot wait as I'll be catching up with another dear friend whilst making the most of this rare opportunity to actually explore small parts of this enormous city! However, now that it is getting dark outside, I finally feel that it is time to sleep and attempt to regulate my screaming body clock. Good night!!!

Preparing for Lift Off.

2011-04-06T00:41:00.002+10:00

Mentally, I am back-tracking through the several times I have re-packed my equipment case. Did I pack those spare cables? Owahwah, what about the new transmitters? Hmmm, what about the 6 billion adaptors, small tools and several different colours of electrical tape? Where did I last see my maglite torch? Which subfolder did I put the script in so I can quickly read it before I meet up with the rest of the crew in Sydney?

And ignite the potential mental fire-storm that is the night before flight(s). 23.5 hours of sitting in a fast moving chair (with a 1.5h stop-over / body movement session in Singapore). I'll hopefully have films to watch (unlike my last international flight home), and I also have two fully charged / stocked media players to keep the tunes flowing into my head with my "uncomfortable whilst sitting up and sleeping" noise-cancelling headphones. Ooh yeah, I am as prepared as I have ever been for this long haul business.

I've circled the globe twice in loud flying machines since June 2007 (the first time I flew out of the country). Before that, the furthest off-shore I had ever been was Dunk Island (and that was as a 4 year old). Yes, I'm only a hatchling when it comes to travel, but after years of resistance to the concept - I am now wondering "where should I head next, WITHOUT all of the equipment".

Perhaps I'm beginning to get the travel bug? The idea of seeing new things, hearing so many new sounds, feeling so much "fresh" energy, and exchanging smiles with people who I'd never normally meet fills my being with a harmonic vibration that makes my skin shiver with goose bumps!

However, this is not the time for me to leap forth into the night, loudly proclaiming positively themed exclamations! There's just under 6 hours until that noisy, nasty alarm clock offends me into a new day - thus I had better turn off the blog machine and enjoy some sleepy bo-bo's whilst I can...

It's Travel Time Again!

2011-04-04T13:19:00.001+10:00

Okay, it's time to cast aside the comforts of home and once again endure the long-haul flight back to the northern hemisphere for another round of epic documentary film-making! This time, I am not travelling in the name of finding the heart of a nation's identity, hunting elusive earthworms, nor am I chasing contestants in a frenzied international dash for cash. I am being transported across this globe in the name of following young Australian dancers who are competing in the 2011 Irish Dancing Championships.

"Irish Dancing Championships?!?", I hear you gasp. Oh my, please don't draw negative conclusions. Just for the record, I have been promised "extreme wigs" and "elaborate costumes" - and if you don't know this about me already, these two factors alone imply to me powerfully successful connotations (the best way to lure me anywhere is to promise wigs and costumes).

I am heading into the heart of a highly competitive and complex sport - in the captial city of the Reblic of Ireland, a country I have always wanted to visit since I started reading about Celtic folk-lore in my youth. It is so strange to think that it was only last September when I flew over Ireland on my way to London, looking down from the planes window 11.887 km above Kilkenny and thinking to myself "my oh my, what a vibrantly green place, I'd love to go there someday".

I plan to return a man who has learnt to do some of the fastest leg movements on the eastern seaboard of Australia - plus earn myself "bonifide" Irish stamina for Guinness that has not been seen since Arthur Guinness himself started taste testing his dark concoction back in the mid 18th Century. I have been warned not to enter any form of drinking competition with any Irish folk, advice that I am programming deeply into my brain just in case things get a little crazy - however I do now know that the Irish word for cheers is "Sloncha", just in case I am in advertantly drawn into duel.

This time I'm heading back to London (arriving on Wednesday the 6th of April) for a shoot, and then I head to Dublin from the 9th - 24th for the competition. I'm not exactly sure of my day-to-day schedule as yet, however I have been told that I'll be working hard when in "go-mode". I arrive back in Brisbane on the 26th of April and at this stage plan to have a very nice, relaxing bit of time off afterwards (let's see if this actually happens later on).

In this all, and despite the normal growing pre-travel nerves - this is the part of the journey that I love, where every expectation that I have is in my mind - and in time reality becomes a new horizon. Now, to cease my written meanderings and get down to the dirty business of packing my bags!

Behind the Scenes (February-March)

2011-03-30T00:02:00.001+10:00

Keitho cooks up a monumental Thai feast.

On location (Photo by Brigham Edgar)

Prank Master Control

Mixing sounds, embracing the madness!

Cute little Eucalyptus muncher.

This robot offered to hold my boom.

A moment of relaxation in my HQ.

Let's go and film some tigers, right up close.

The No.3 Express in my favourite Brisbane Sushi joint.

I spent 2 days underwater with a bunch of mellow sharks.

Another prank nerve centre in operation.

Squeaky little swimmer wouldn't leave me alone, so I gave it a kiss.

Posing with the host with the most, Scott Tweedie (Photo by Brendan Busby)

The happy sound recordist. (Photo by Gene Corser)

The next stop is Dublin, via London - give me a week and a half and I'll be cold and hopefully taste testing the Guinness on tap!!!

When I Woke Up This Morning...

2011-01-29T10:21:00.000+10:00

I felt like my emotions had been sucked out

and stirred around before being popped back in

just before my sleepy eyes opened to this day.

Living in a digital age where there are no mirrors,

I took a picture to see if the man looking back was me.

What I saw was a sore man in the middle of his life,

hiding away from a confusing world in which

he doesn't know how to embrace and call it his own.

I saw was a man who mind is on fire but his face says,

"I've just been lobotomised, pleased to meet you".

Pulling on the Reins.

2011-01-28T10:48:00.002+10:00

It has almost been a week since I moved in and already I have stretched my mind and body to it's limits. Being a bachelor is not all that it's cracked up to be, care-free abandon is distinctly balanced by periods of reflections where I am wishing I didn't take particular courses of action. Whilst by no means am I in the throes of loss of self control, I am starting to realise that I must begin to focus on things outside my life so I don't get caught up in a whirl of circular thinking processes that eventually could bring all of this good mind work undone.

Needless to say, I have settled in rather comfortably with my two new house mates. One of my house-mates is a musician - so at times we jam. The other house-mate is a good old friend who I met in my University days, and whilst he'd hate this classification, he's also the owner of this house (and thus, my landlord). The house itself is beautiful, with an amazing back deck and luscious gardens. Whilst everything at first glance appears in order and sophisticated, there's a distinct bad-ass flow under the surface that threatens to destroy this new world I have entered.

It's the drinking that is breaking me. After a few months of self medicated inebriation, I am finding that the drinking sessions are getting longer and more crazy. Somehow, if I'm feeling not so good - I reach for a beer without thinking. A terrible and impractical pattern is forming.

The other day here we had a party. Probably 30 odd people rocked up. We had a blow up pool, a BBQ, and a whole lot of food. As the day progressed, I found that I was finishing a beer in about 5 minutes. Soon the tequilas arrived on the scene, along with espresso martinis, rock melon cocktails and other various shots of fluids that defy my sodden memory. It all seemed like great fun until the next day.

I awoke not knowing how I got to bed, and upon having a discussion with a few of the people that were here, I found out that I fell into a wall in the kitchen and put a massive crack in the gyprock. Then there was some crazy wrestling in the lounge room, where I could swear someone either hit me in the face or pushed me into the ground with a lot of force. I don't remember, but my cheek has been sore for two days now.

I'm sure at the time this was all in the name of "fun" but during the days afterwards, I've been reflecting on how destructive this situation is getting. Rather than having enjoyable conversations with friends, I am getting off my chops and eventually blacking out. These blackouts have happened twice now lately, and to tell you the truth I am absolutely terrified of them.

Thus, it is time to curtail this madness and learn how to control the flow of my mind in a natural way, rather than relying on alcohol. I'm at the blunt end of almost a month and a half away from work. I wish I had been on legitimate and exotic holidays, but I have been trying to pull my life back together and face these new days. I start shooting a 2 month job on Monday and plan to very much hit the straight and narrows until I see this gig through. The bell that tolls "last drinks" has definitely sent out it's ultrasonic peal... Now I must learn to understand the term: "moderation".

Change of Address

2011-01-23T22:16:00.000+10:00

Central Command (version 10.4)

(Decommissioning Phase - Prior to Pod Ejection)

Central Command (version 11.0)

(Initial Prototype - System / Load Testing)

After Rain, Cometh the Sun

2011-01-14T22:49:00.001+10:00

We had a spell of bad weather here, something like 41 days of almost continuous rain made the ground juicy and the air moist. Small rivers began to form in the backyard, in which the bearded dragon would sit and stare. The two spotted marsh frogs in the pond "popped" in a strange rhythm with delight. Rain to me equals reading, socialising and resting. I love the stuff.

Last Monday, I was fortunate to be able to head north to the Mind Smash. The "Mind Smash" is a battle of the wills in a rented house located on the Sunshine Coast of Queensland. In this location, I would attempt to outwit and outlast six of my oldest friends in a reckless battle of stamina and trickery. Unfortunately, as we watched the news on the first night of our scheduled brain-straining activities - we saw a horrific report about a massive flood in Toowomba. Quite a few of the gathered gentlemen had studied in this city and the mood quickly turned to disbelief.

The next morning, we began to hear reports that Caboolture (a town to the south of where we were staying) had flooded, essentially cutting the highway back to Brisbane. It was at around this time that tweets and emergency messages began to come through telling us that indeed the city of Brisbane was going to flood.

For two days, we were glued to the news (interspersed with PS3 games and other such activities). Meanwhile, courtesy of rolling news coverage on four national television networks, we watched our home city go under the raging waters of the winding river that runs all the way through the place.

A few of us tried blowing relief into the stormy winds that were trapping us into the Mind Smash Mansion. Our goal was to try and pacify the weather with ceremonial essences. Whilst I'm not saying anything rash here, it seemed to work - for on the second day of these rites, the clouds did clear and let us see the stars.

Brisbane at the same time was experiencing a massive peak. Horrors upon horrors were occurring in the townships around. Almost the entire state was experiencing some form of flooding. Reading the police reports, I discovered that the freeway was open. I was booked to work on some flood coverage. I was itching to get back to my home and to the city where I have so many friends.

My drive into Brisbane was surreal. Hardly anyone was on the roads. Everything was quiet. Then I realised that traffic lights were out. We began to see helicopters circling and the odd military helicopter carrying supplies in slings. As we got closer to the northern edge of the city, it became apparent that something crazy was happening. Roads were sealed off. Traffic was inching forward. Police were trying to manage a chaotic swirl of cars and trucks. The air was sombre, but at least the rain had gone.

Now that the floods are receding, it is apparent that there is much damage in this city. I personally know of at least three people who have had their houses swamped and filled with black, stinking mud. Luckily, all three people had the foresight to save what they could before their homes became inundated. However, there were many people who did not.

As a result, the council is co-ordinating a massive voluntary clean up task force - perhaps to the numbers never seen before in Australian civil recovery management. I've lived here in this city since 1989, and it has been very good to me (most of the time). Whilst I'm not a flag-waving patriot, I do believe in the virtues of love and compassion in society. Thus I'll head down tomorrow morning, fill out their paperwork, board a bus with my tools and ship out to a location to help random strangers save their homes before the mud sets. In a way, I'm really looking forward to contributing to mend this city - and hopefully in the process bring our society closer, thus hopefully repairing an attribute of this place that I find at times is distinctly lacking. Who knows if this will work, but I can only try. I am after all, a loyal citizen.

Rant Season is Over

2011-01-14T10:30:00.000+10:00

Oh dear, those last two posts were quite a handful. Luckily my chemistry has settled since then and the reality has become... real. I ended up deciding that it was best to move out of my house as really, it would be beneficial to have a clean start (so to speak). As fortune would have it, a good friend of mine owns his own house five minutes north of here and has a room spare for this ol' chap - so I'm moving in over there in the next week.

I also had a good talk with my best friend, who now has the ugly title of my "ex". I was indeed out of line with some of my thinking, and indeed publishing such on the internet was not the best move to make. The record has been set straight, all has been forgiven and ultimately I have been set free in the process.

In my infamous intercontinental interrupted discussion with Ky Oso, I was warned not to live in my old house as it could become my tomb. Those wise words echoed around my head for days, setting a strong foundation for a quest for change.

Thus, the new crusade begins...

Rant Aftermath (Debrief & an Apology)

2010-12-30T12:24:00.002+10:00

Oh man. You know sometimes when you say something and you can't take it back? I'm referring to yesterday's online outburst. I think my own headspace / situation is getting out of hand and I've become all un-Dude like.

Obviously, I am not going to delete it as I have already posted it - I guess I have to accept that it will now become much like most of my other postings in time, and thus become a part of my story.

I am being very selfish in my wallowing and I did not for one second think about the person I was talking about and her sensitivities regarding this issue, and me posting it out for everyone to see. If you are reading this, I sincerely apologise for the hurt my actions may have caused. I am obviously highly stressed and not knowing where I can reach in this situation for clarity and calm and in my panic to vent my emotions, I for some reason decided to write to the internet.

Just so everyone now who may be reading this, I would like to discuss my faults as a romantic partner, just to make a clear point that it takes more than one to tango, so no-one out there is drawing judgement on my situation. I would like to take this opportunity to point out that I have many bad traits that people should be aware of. I use computers way too much, I love staying at home, I love dreaming. I know that at times I am very uninteresting due to my inert statue-like, mouse-clicking, time-trances. I am by no means an easy man to live with. As much as I laugh, I cry. Paranoia and superstitions guide my decisions. I am as illogical as I try to be logical. I can be very lazy. I love sleeping. I can be melodramatic. I over-think simple situations. I don't wash my clothes until I run out of underwear. I spy on my neighbourhood via a complex series of mechanised tunnels. These are but a handful of my immediate self-criticisms, valid reasons why I am (to some) not an ideal catch. Over time, traits like these would become incredibly wearisome - especially if you are on the lookout for excitement, variety and rampant action.

Other than these negative points, I am loyal to the point of selflessness, perpetually loving, always keen for communication, sensitive and understanding. I live to love. I am honourable, reliable, and enjoy working hard. I love laughing and trying to make other laugh. I'm always keen to be hugged and to give hugs. I make no secret of my emotions and feelings. My instincts are well-tuned (well, erm... most of the time).

Those who know me will be quick to think that I am getting all down on myself but I don't want anyone to worry about this. I know that I have lawful good qualities, and hopefully the outweigh the chaotic evil attributes. I have a lot of love in my heart, and this is a quality that people who know me remark upon. I am not an evil enemy stereotype. I love very much all of the people in my life, even if there are those out there who I haven't seen since we last quarrelled. Life is as far as I can see, far too short to have enemies. I am honestly so lazy that I can't even maintain a rage.

I am okay everybody. I know that these postings are a bit out of turn and strange for some of you, and this could be cause for you to worry. Well, cease your wrinked brow and look high unto the skies. Everything is sweet, this brother is venting. I feel for now that I have to start documenting my process in a transparent way, as it does nothing but generate healthy discussion amongst those who love me and gives me something to read back and reflect upon in distant days when I'm up and rocking again! My major philosophy: Continue to learn, even from the hardest and worst lessons.

I love my life, I love my family, I love my friends, I love my work colleagues. I am one of the luckiest people in the world to have such a large, caring and reactive group of individuals around me. Loyal and trust-worthy, patient and inspiring. My heart-felt thanks to everyone for the times they have contacted me, to share their concerns and to offer me generous hands.

After I type this message, I am heading away on a holiday for the New Year's with a swag full of good mates for some laughs and times of distraction. The first of two planned treks into a new world. The last thing I should be doing is sitting around, steaming about how my actions (or lack of action) got me into the mess I'm in right now. I want to thank everyone who has played their part in prizing me out of the time/space rift and inspiring me to punch the air with feelings of success and knowing that despite my faults, I'm all good.

PS: Ky Von Oso might like to take note that I am taking my mobile communications array with me on this holiday so that I can attempt a skype connection without a blackout disrupting us. I am waiting to be evangelised by this individual.

Difficult Times

2010-12-29T11:26:00.001+10:00

I am having a very confusing time at the moment. Normally I avoid writing down overly personal information here in my blog, however at this time of instability I must reach out and share, partly so I can make sense of the times in my own mind, plus also so I can fill in my friends who are too far away.

Eight weeks ago, my partner told me that she wanted to end our relationship as she had needs that were not being met in our union. We had together for five and a half years. This was a deeply disturbing shock as I had just returned from my overseas job and was days away from heading to another away job. In all honesty did not see this coming.

At the time, I was completely rattled, but as I started to think how this could happen, many signifiers from the past came forward to present themselves to me and I could piece together how my beloved relationship fell apart after all of these years. We had many discussions and talked about many things before I went away. I was told that change just needed to happen, it wasn't because of my away jobs - it was just because it was time.

In the following weeks, it became apparent to me that there was something not quite right about the way this scenario came to play and I eventually was told that there was another man in the mix. I realised then and there that in my absence, I had been replaced by another. There was absolutely nothing I could do to right the wrongs or our relationship and make amends. It was over, and I didn't have any choice in the matter. It became clear to me that I was no longer needed.

After my away job, I returned home to realise just how far that the other had moved on. Body language was closed, she'd be away for days and I started to feel as though I was being avoided. So many people told me not to go back home but I had to, as in my heart and mind I have no place else to go.

Weeks later, I am still reeling. I'm up and down, happy, sad and at times angry. I wake up crying most days and I pass out from exhaustion (or from drinking). I am living like a ghost, longing for love and some good feelings. Lately I have taken to hiding in the house away from the confusing world. I am restless and have taken to drinking large amounts of alcohol in an attempt to quieten my mind. I can't hang out in large groups however I have reached out to a few people and other good folk have stepped forward to offer me emotional support.

I have turned my mind to establishing myself in an attempt to reinforce my water-logged foundations. Originally, I thought that I should move out and find a new place to live, however I am realising in this city that this is expensive, and the concept of moving out to find dignity in a dingy brick apartment has started to confound me. I am dead certain that I don't want a flatmate, but I do want a spare room so I can still offer my many friends a place to crash should it be needed. I need to heal and wonder whether some cheap apartment is the best place to do this.

The over-arching problem I face is that I still feel much love for the Woman who let me go. I am as hurt as I have ever been by this entire process, I feel deep sorrow for the way this has all happened but I feel that I have lost my best friend and my confidant as well. Love is a very complicated thing, and for me it is a very deep, spiritual concept. This situation is teaching me many good lessons but in the same instance, I feel that these lessons are damaging my heart and mind equally. Trust has become a huge issue for me of late, and in my strange way I am having issues even trusting the closest people to me. All psychological fallout from the ol' life bomb.

At the end of the day, I have been told by friends that time will heal all. This concept has been keeping me sane for the past two months, however I am at times now beginning to doubt. Lost, confused and for some reason typing this out for all and sundry to read on the internet. Why?

Christmas Eaty Treats

2010-12-29T10:14:00.002+10:00

Garlic Prawns by Lucas Thyer

Lemon Sorbet and Fruits by Margaret Gillette

Rum Balls by Evelyn Michell

Location, Location

2010-11-07T22:44:00.001+10:00

My head is down and my boom is up. Busy days of attempted distraction.

Home Away From Home

2010-11-03T18:04:00.001+10:00

Once again, I make my annual pilgrimage south to the wilds of Tweed Heads / Coolangatta for another dose of jungle madness. The apartment I have been put up in is sweet, but not as big as last year - however the view is just as lovely. 5 weeks away from home starts... Now!

The Delirium of Jet-Lag Combined With More Shooting!

2010-10-25T12:38:00.001+10:00

The job wasn't quite done. I arrived back to Brisbane with two bottles of red wine from an apologetic airline (for the broken entertainment console in the Jo'burg to Sydney). Upon arriving home, I was excited to see my love - and to celebrate! Foolishly, I tried to drink all the wine and ended up being quite ill. In an effort to calm me, my Sweet made me a bath, which I hopped into and fell asleep. My good Lady tried to wait up for me but succumbed to her own weariness. Needless to say, after some time sleeping in the tub, I woke up freezing in cold water. A quick rush to bed for warmth initiated an amazing 18 hours of sleep, a new personal record.

36 Hours after touching down in Brisbane, it was time to get back to work to help finish off the local leg if our shoot. This was a tough scenario as we were all quite fatigued, but the job had to be done!

After another four days of filming, we wrapped, rather quietly. No massive "it's a wrap" fuss, just an elegant hug between friends and a tired farewell - with the promise of wrap drinks later down the line when we've all recovered.

Annoyingly, all is not well. The numbness I have on the right side of my body is not letting up, just to make things more exciting (I love adrenalin pumping excitement at every turn, can't you tell?). So it's off to the Quack's this afternoon for a check up, followed by some more if this sweet rest!

The Long Trip Home

2010-10-25T12:18:00.001+10:00

Leg One: Pietermaritzburg to Johannesburg on a small plane.

Leg Two: Killing six hours in Johannesburg International Airport.

Leg Three: An 11 hour flight home on a jam packed 747 with a non-functioning entertainment console. Let's just say that I used many of my steaming, fresh memories to get through this long leg of the trip!

Land Ho!!! My first sighting if the Australian mainland (below), roughly the Apollo Bay region of Victoria. Ooh yeah, cue the excitement - almost home!

Hluhluwe Game Reserve

2010-10-25T11:55:00.001+10:00

A tremendously beautiful hilly landscape rose out of the rain, and the large shadowy forms of giraffe and rhinoceros moved slowly in the fog as we arrived at Hluhluwe Game Reserve.

Wild beasties roam freely throughout this amazing landscape. It's strongly advised the the general public don't open their car windows and doors, but for the doco team, we get an armed guard and some good walking through the thorny vines! It was amazing to stand around in the bushes thinking that as I recorded the sound if the local finches, there could be a lion watching us from a hidden vantage point.

Quite a few times, we'd set up our shot - only to be told that there's a bull elephant heading our way, or buffalo, or a black rhino so we'd have to pack up very quickly and throw everything into the car for a drive to a new location so we could continue filming.

The weather continued to get wetter as we continued to stay. We were given accommodation in the "green hut" in the research station within this magnificent reserve. At night, lighting accompanied by long, rolling thunder moved in. Very heavy rain began to fall and as I was drifting off to sleep I swear that I heard an elephant push a tree over!

The next day saw that the rain had lifted, but the skies were grey.

We went for an extensive drive in the morning looking for wildlife to film but didn't have much luck, that is until we packed down the equipment and started the long drive south to Pietermaritzburg. Before we exited the main gate of the park we saw three lions hoarding their freshly killed buffalo, many giraffes and some very photogenic rhinoceroses calmly eating the fresh grasses.

It took us almost five hours to do the drive back to our base, where we then proceeded to set up for a master interview with our South African documentary subject and shot late into the evening. After that was completed, it was time for a couple of glasses of the fine local wine before packing the cases for our final leg back to Australia.

It's worth noting that when we checked in for our flight to Sydney from Johannesburg, I kissed my pelican case and told the lady at the check in counter that I was like a nervous father. Of course, I hand carried my sound kit with me - not wanting to risk it's loss for the third time on the way back home!

Backseat Driver

2010-10-22T21:58:00.001+10:00

Vernon Crookes Reserve

2010-10-18T16:21:00.001+10:00

After a couple of days in Pietermaritzburg, it was time for us to head on safari. Our first stop would be Vernon Crookes Reserve, located roughly 100km to the south of Durban.

Unfortunately for us, the weather when we arrived was cold, rainy and at times very misty - however this did little to hide the beautiful landscape. This reserve was once a sugar cane farm however it slowly being restored to a highland grass park, complete with zebras, monkeys and other assorted herbivores.

Pietermaritzburg

2010-10-17T16:38:00.001+10:00

After the mystery of the missing sound kit was solved (once again held in Munich for no apparent reason), and I recovered from the stress and an extremely sore back and a strange condition that has "muted" any sensation of touch or feeling in my right arm - it was time to start shooting in the Natal Museum of Pietermaritzburg.

Pietermaritzburg is a quiet, inland town located to the west of Durban, on the Eastern Coast of South Africa. The layout of the town reminded me strongly of Toowoomba, complete with gum trees that seemed to be growing everywhere. At some points I even internally debated that I wasn't actually out of Australia - a pawn in some crazy ruse played on me by my colleagues.

The weather unfortunately has not been on our side when we arrived here and a large front pushed through on the first night if our arrival, covering much of South Africa in one big rain cloud, much to the delight of the residents of these parts.

The Power of Transit

2010-10-17T01:36:00.001+10:00

Step One: Fly across Germany.

Step Two: Entertain selves at Munich international airport for eight hours.

Step Three: Watch the Director / Cinematographer sleep in amusing locations at airport.

Step Four: Catch an aeroplane from Munich to Johannesburg, operated by an airline that prohibits the use of iphones in flight mode and thus makes it impossible for me to listen to my own music supply for eight hours. This same airline also manages to loose my sound kit causing much stress at the southern end of the journey.

Step Five: After loosing sound kit and being confounded by a system that has no idea where my equipment could be, fly from Johannesburg to Pietermaritzburg to be greeted by a beautiful setting sun.

Total: After 36 hours of non-stop travel, considerable amounts of distress / annoyance / fatigue and a very sore back, we make the move from the European Union to the Republic of South Africa for the next leg of our journey.

Bye Bye Cluj-Napoca!

2010-10-09T17:36:00.001+10:00

This has been a very busy leg of the shoot, very much tired of man-handling vast amounts of equipment and the repetition of packing everything away for travel.

Just sitting now at Cluj airport, waiting for customs to inspect our numerous cases. I have to say, I love Europe and the free wifi everywhere. Makes me realise how behind the times we are in Australia in this regard.

Looking forward to this last leg of the trip to Pietermaritzburg in South Africa. Sounds like we're going to see some beautiful country.

Yesterday, our taxi driver friend Alexandro drove us to the west of Cluj so we could see some countryside before we left. All we've been doing is hanging in the city so this was a nice break to see the trees leaves turning autumn shades of yellow and red in the setting sun.

The temperature here in Cluj is hitting -1 degree celcius over night. Winter is on it's way. We're leaving just in time to catch the heat down in Africa. Between you and I, I'd much rather stay in the cold.

I hope I see my sound kit at the other end of this trip, I am worried and don't think I can handle the shock again!

See you in South Africa, hope I can access the net and post more blogs for you whilst I'm there!

Spare Moments...

2010-10-08T04:16:00.001+10:00

A very busy day, with the club next door playing 120-130bpm techno until 6am, thus destroying any chance if good sleep to calm my strained back.

To make matters worse, we went to a very dodgy cafe for lunch. We all left feeling queasy from our meals that were prepared without any love what so ever, and with the cheapest ingredients known to humanity.

As the afternoon went on, our energy levels started to wane. We have had to work quite hard this week to make up for the time that was lost when my sound kit and the camera battery charger and tripod were MIA.

By the time we wrapped for the day, I think it would be fair to day that everyone was totally exhausted. We have one more day of shooting ahead here in the cool climes of Cluj-Napoca and then we head to the warmth of Pietermaritzburg in South Africa for our last week of shooting before we head back home to Brisbane. I am already looking forward to long, unbroken sleeps in my own bed!

Sunrise Delight!

2010-10-07T05:00:00.001+10:00

A nice, long day today shoot here in Cluj. We left the hotel at 7am, just as the sun was beginning to wash the clouds in the sky with it's golden glow.

It's wonderful to be able to observe this city at all times of the day. Whilst Randall shoots his beautiful shots, I'm recording atmospheres on my flash recorder for the editor to use later in the cut. Whilst I love the recording of sounds, it is these audio observations that are my favourite to capture.

I am still loving the people of this city more and more every day. Whilst there is a definite language barrier, it doesn't stop the locals from going above and beyond to help should it be required, that is with exception to the taxi driver this morning who very rudely refused to transport us this morning because of how much equipment we had.

This was second irrational man I have met on my condensed journey around the world. This young guy was just rude, and when he grabbed my boom pole and thrust it out of his cab, I without doubt let him know just how offensive that act was to me.

By no means will this silly man's actions ruin my impression of Cluj thus far as the kindness and selflessness of the people here is truly astounding, and a quality that this city should be very proud of indeed.

In and around the old city.

2010-10-06T13:47:00.001+10:00

Another one of those posts where I'll show you the pictures. These were all taken in the centre of Cluj, in a place called the old city. You'll see what I mean. I am loving this place and it's friendly people.

Sunset over the "Treasure City"

2010-10-05T09:05:00.001+10:00

Onwards and Upwards in Cluj!

2010-10-04T23:24:00.001+10:00

What a crazy 24 hours. The missing sound kit created a high level of interior madness for my poor, sleep starved brain. After such a relatively easy trip, it was a complete shock to stand there at the bag turnstile and wait and wait until an airline employee came up to say that there were no more bags!

Anyway, the awesome folk at Cluj-Napoca airport working for Lufthansa managed to go the hard yards over night, find the bags in Munich and get them freighted here by 10am this morning, thus ending my stress out in just 22 hours.

We've just been walking around Cluj in search for lunch and we can't believe the beauty of the local people. Almost every person is a potential photographic model, wearing snazzy looking clothes and generally looking very sharp. I felt haggard and somewhat dodgy walking amongst everyone!

Now it is time for us to finally start shooting here in this extremely interesting city where horse drawn carts use the roads alongside some of the craziest drivers I have ever had the opportunity to observe. It's an eye opening place where I feel very sure that I'll have some stories to relate as the shoot continues after a surprising break in production.

Lost in Transit

2010-10-03T22:14:00.001+10:00

Was going to write a post about how cool it is to finally have a day off since leaving home last month, but my morale has been broken by the complete loss of my sound kit, including my boom pole by Lufthansa airlines. No one knows where it is, and why it is not here in Cluj-Napoca, Romania with me. Might as well rip out my heart and crush it before my eyes as far as I am concerned. So, here's the pics I took on todays journey. Battery is running out, of course my charger is in my missing case.

Hopefully this situation can be resolved to stop my horrific heart-ache.

Mist in the Morning, Castles in the Evening.

2010-10-03T06:26:00.001+10:00

I have very little time to write this, currently in a hotel room (with Internet, thank goodness). In four hours I have to be packed and ready to go to the airport so I can catch a plane for the next leg of our adventure.

This evening, we made our way back to Tallinn (capital city of Estonia) in order to make our 4.30am trip to the airport a little less strenuous. Once we arrived, we decided we needed to find somewhere to eat. Luckily, we met a young Russian woman who suggested that we "head towards the church". The church just happened to be smack bang in the muddle if a walled medieval part of Tallinn atop a hill, my first ever castle. Every cell in my body made me hug the huge buttresses repeatedly, much to my colleague's enjoyment. Far out, Estonia is a fantastic place, full of awesome people. It has been a joy to call in and visit whilst working. Next stop: Romania!

Tartu and Lake Vastuvotu, Estonia.

2010-10-02T18:58:00.001+10:00

Adventures in the beautiful Estonian university town of Tartu, where I was mildly assaulted (angrily pushed around) by a leaf-blower operator whilst wearing my full sound harness after I tried to politely ask him to turn off his noisy machine for ten minutes whilst we shot an interview. Language barrier may have made him think I was suggesting something less than savoury. That horrid man and his annoyingly loud machine aside, this is one awesome town, photographic examples of which I have included below (remember you can click on these pics should you want a bigger view).

Driving around the countryside on our way back to base, thought I'd snap a few pics for you to see.

And now, the most breath taking sunset I have ever seen with my own eyes, from the eastern bank of Lake Vastuvotu facing westwards. No colour grading photoshoppery here folks, just raw iphone pictures straight from the stinking bowels of my media library to you. Enjoy.

Cold Trousers in Estonia!

2010-10-01T17:44:00.001+10:00

Twenty or so years ago, Estonia was a part of the Soviet Union. Back in those days, it was illegal to be unemployed! Times have indeed changed here, but the monolithic concrete apartment building relics of a Soviet past still stand tall, and well maintained. This is an amazing country, it is by large very flat with gentle low rising hills. The roads are by large very well maintained and teams of dedicated, safety-vested council workers sweep the streets, gutters and footpaths with brooms all day long. I have not seen one piece of litter in my whole time of being here.
Native species of spruce and pine line many of the quiet country roads. In some cases, the more ingenious locals have built their houses around these great trees, rather than knocking them down to make way. Truly an inspirational form of environmental care.

It is amazing to think, I come from a country where the housing shortages are pushing up the prices beyond the reach of many people from my generation and younger, however here it is quite an opposite in some ways. Many farms lie abandoned, shut down after Estonia gained independence from Russia and also due to the privatisation of the banking system (thus forcing many land holders into bankruptcy).
The evenings smell like wood fire smoke in every town we have been through. It is impressive how the Estonians gather and pile amazing amounts of wood for their evening fires in preparation for their five months of snowy Winter. The piling of this wood in huts and sheds is absolutely amazing and in my opinion, quite an intricate art form.

We are fortunate to have arrived at a remarkable time of the year, where many of the trees nestled within the evergreen spruce and pine trees begin to turn yellow and red in the early Autumn, giving the forests a glittering visualisation. I'm guessing that the temperatures at the moment are going down to about 7-10 degrees (celsius) overnight, however I have been told that we are lucky as the temperature will creep gradually downwards to around negative 20 degrees within a month or so. We have been fortunate to witness the first frosts of the year.

On our first night that we arrived we drove for a while out of Tallinn to arrive at a roadside shop, looking for water to replenish our day long flight dehydration. Unfortunately, we didn't realise that Estonia had it's own dollar (called Kroon, roughly 10 Estonian Kroon to the Australian Dollar), and found out very quickly that Euros are not accepted by many establishments. We were kindly given a bottle of tap water by the young Lady in the shop and we then continued the long drive to our accommodation at the Centre for Luminology, Rannu (Tartumaa).
Of course, we arrived at 10pm with no food (or money) but were given cheese, smoked ham and a local rye bread by our kind local host to tide us over until we could get to a supermarket in the mid afternoon of the following day.

I am feeling very tired on this leg of the journey, my body aching from carrying gear to and from the car, setting up the camera and the lights and not to forget my primary role of sound recording. My immune system is battling a combination of airplane air-conditioning evilness, acclimatisation and just general weariness bought on by a week of minimum sleep. This form of international documentary production always seems to take a heavy toll in the body, usually because the days are quite long (12-14 working hours most days).

The days are full of a repetitive routine, as I seem to be either continually setting up, moving or packing down equipment. However, we also have many long car trips during this leg of our journey and there is plenty of time to sit and watch the passing countryside out of the window as our local documentary subject shares with us the history of his homeland.

On our second day of shooting right next to Western Russia, we made our way southwards to the city of Riga in neighbouring Latvia. It is amazing the diversity of housing in Latvia, from shanty-like shacks with satellite dishes to tall and modern looking apartment buildings. Of course, the Russian concrete monoliths also still stand tall here as well, but I did notice that in places, these old buildings are being demolished to make way for a new beginning.

Here in Riga, we met with our hospitable hosts from the Laboratory of Hydrobiology from the Latvijas Universitate, who gave us a lovely welcoming breakfast of strong coffee and a grand selection of traditional pastries.

We were then taken on a whirlwind tour of Riga and its surrounds, including lunch at the largest buffet restaurant I have ever seen!

Our afternoon on this particular day was spent along the sunny banks of the Daugaya River, which runs right through Riga.

This was beautiful and welcoming landscape to observe the locals fishing before making the 3.5 hour drive back to Tartumaa in Estonia.

Kent, What a Ripper!

2010-09-29T01:02:00.001+10:00

Our first day in Kent was a tragedy of intense wind and rain. Later in the evening, I discovered that the roof above my bed was leaking quite badly. It was not a good night of sleep for me.

The next day however was absolutely beautiful, which was marvellous as it allowed me the opportunity to check out the local scenery.

The beach was filled with pebbles, and the mud flats extended quite a way out into the English Channel.

This was a very beautiful part of the country to visit, and I was told that the beaches are very popular during the summer months with the visiting Londoners who brave the 2 hour drive out of town on the immense M2 motorway.

Our next destination was Down House, the home of Charles Darwin. Obviously, he is no longer living there but a whole collection of his belongings remain under the watchful gaze of the English Heritage workers and their complicated, laser activated alarm systems.

Down House is a beautiful, old manor house funnily enough located in the town of Down, on the outskirts of London. I was fortunate and privileged enough to be able to use Mr Darwin's personal commode (not available for public use), and as I sat there I wondered how many of his ideas were generated on this watery throne. Unfortunately I didn't have and amazing brain waves or eureka moments whilst using this facility.

Naturally, this type of international documentary production is always pressed for time and involves the constant manoeuvring of large amounts of equipment. I find this the most annoying part of the job, but I do continually count my blessings that I'm able to visit some amazing places that I wouldn't have access to in my non-shooting life.

We filmed in Mr Darwin's office, the place where he developed a lot of his theories and wrote a few of his books. Again, the barriers that would prohibit the general public were removed for us and we could wander around freely (no touching), investigating his personal belongings. Fortunately, it had been arranged for us to have Down House opened for us on the day where it is shut to the public.

The gardens here are most fascinating, with a lot of the trees that he collected on his voyages growing. I even found a gum tree amongst the autumnal colour shifting oak trees, which was a pleasant experience for someone who likes a touch of home familiarities from time to time. As we were about to leave, one of the heritage workers gave us an apple each from the orchard, the freshest, sweetest and crunchiest fruit I have ever had the pleasure of eating!

After a very busy day of shooting, we headed back into London to the hotel in Bayswater to prepare the equipment for travel to Estonia. At some point, it was decided that we should head to a pub for a farewell pint and a spot of dinner.

Five pints later (and no dinner), I rolled back to the hotel and began pulling my sound kit apart and began storing the pieces in the appropriate cases. This was a difficult task and eventually I found myself lying on the floor after everything was safely stowed away.

It was another night of minimal sleep, a reoccurring curse so far on this job. A very early trip to Heathrow for a plane to Frankfurt, with the usual hassles of excess baggage and such straining us again. We managed to make our flight with minutes to spare (again), my nerves a little frail after a good few hours of rushing around and carrying boxes of shooting equipment and negotiating with airline officials.

Next stop, Estonia - via Frankfurt international airport, which would have to be one of the most confusing labyrinths ever constructed in the name of creating flustered travellers. We almost missed this flight due to being in the wrong terminal / side of the universe.

In our rush to move (on foot) from one terminal to another, I met an amusing German security officer who were telling me things that were freaking me out and just as my adrenalin started to peak he'd say "Oh I'm just joking", plus an employee of Lufthansa airlines who thought that she should yell loudly at us like naughty children due to our being late for our Estonian flight check in. This travelling business is bloody exhausting.

Kent: Cold, Wet and Windy!

2010-09-27T07:41:00.001+10:00

Yaar, this is certainly a part of the world where cheesecloth pants are not the best idea to be wearing. It's a cruel reality.

My bed is wet from a leak in the ceiling (it's not from my bladder, I swear), just totally grateful that my bag of clothes is okay after leaving them here all day for shooting.

None the less, this is a very interesting part of the country. Despite the weather crazy conditions, I managed to see the sea forts far off the coast plus the giant windmills that poke out if the ocean like crazy, whirling, white flowers.

We spent the entire day indoors, shooting a master interview with one of our documentary subjects. Our hosts were totally delightful and provided us with a hearty, Sunday roast.

Tomorrow, we head to Charles Darwin's old home, Down House. I am very much looking forward to visiting this special place - certainly a highlight of this leg of the trip!

I now have thermal pants, a beanie and some gloves permanently placed within my on set bag as I fear that the weather, along with the leaking roof that is currently splashing my bed could really test me out!

A Day in the Country (Shoot Day #1)

2010-09-25T10:09:00.001+10:00

Apologies in advance for not writing descriptions for these pics, just wanted to get them up and out but I am waaaayyyy too knackered to explain them for now. Check back in if you're interested over the next few days and hopefully I'll get a chance to let you know where these awesome places are!

The Day of Great Weariness.

2010-09-24T03:52:00.003+10:00

Oh and indeed it has been a day of time/space relocation oriented tiredness. My body clock woke me up at 4.30am, with my brain deciding that it was high time to get kick started. Of course, after I broke through the delirium and realised where I am and what time it was - I put the spare pillow from my bed over my face in a desperate attempt to smother myself back into a dream state.

Finally, my alarm on the other end of the room dragged me out of bed at 8am and I enjoyed another warm shower. After those long plane rides it is a sheer joy to be stretching out in a space that doesn't inhibit physical freedom.

The hotel has a free continental breakfast set up in it's basement, and 9am was peak hour for this service. People from all over the world were gathered down there, the cacophony of accents and languages filling my ears. Finding a table was much like going into battle. I had to be quick and focused to be able to find somewhere where the three of us could sit and eat. I drank six cups of coffee (it wasn't terribly strong but I needed a good kick to get going) and ate a curious ham and cheese toasted sandwich. The doors in this particular part of the building are very small in height, I wouldn't want to be blindfolded and running from room to room down there, that's for sure.

We started our day with a production meeting, and watched a previous interview with one of our subject so that a plan could be formulated about what type of coverage we needed to get and where we should go to get these shots. This took place in a very mellow side room in the hotel, and I felt rather decadent to be conducting business there.

Rebecca and Randall sort things out whilst I take panoramic

photographs. Typical sound recordist stylin'.

Suddenly it was time to assemble the equipment and give everything a test to ensure that nothing crazy had happened in transit. Luckily, everything worked wonderfully - the only problem we're facing is where to put my wireless audio link on the camera - but that isn't a huge problem, something that we'll figure out when we shoot. These things usually evolve anyway, and once we have a couple of days of shooting under our belts, we'll be like a well oiled machine.

By this stage, we'd all worked up a hunger, so we decided to raid a local "Yo Sushi" shop for lunch and then patrolled the nearby second hand stores so our cinematographer/director Randall could find himself a new jacket for when we hit the colder climes of this shoot. The second hand stores around here are amazing, I am fairly sure that the fine gents from "Arseradish" would find some amazing performance costumes here. I saw some amazing hats but reality kicked in as I realised that I simply do not have any space for any extra purchases. Such a shame. Lisa - if you're reading this, I know you'd go mental in these shops.

Again, the people I am meeting on the streets are absolutely wonderful and great to talk to. I love the vibe here, I wonder if it is the same throughout this city? Being a chap who loves a chat, I am completely admiring the diversity and calmness of this society. Probably by all means the most social landscape I have ever visited. I met a very nice gentleman, Mauricio who moved here from Brazil five years ago whilst I waited for Randall to find the jacket of his dreams. Mauricio was full of awesome tips of places we should visit and started telling me about his art - which immediately caught my ear and increased my excitement levels. He gave me a card with his art blog web address, which indeed does display some amazing technique. If only these sort of random encounters happened more often for me back at home!

It was by this stage when the fatigue kicked in. Another short production meeting in Rebecca's (our Line Producer's hotel room) to discuss the shape of things to come plus tomorrow's schedule and then I quickly retired to my mad little hotel room a couple of doors down the hallway. I love the quirky, little room I am in, the bed is on a separate level to the entrance / toilet - I wish I could capture it in a photograph but this is impossible - I have tried a few times with no luck. I feel as though it is an attic room, but there are another four storeys above me.

Thus, as the day begins to grow longer in the tooth of this fine city, I find myself inching closer and closer to the bed. I started writing this entry at the desk in my room and have somehow crept over and ended up lying down, forcing my tired eyes to remain open so I can finish this update. A quick check of the web indicated that tomorrow is supposed to be rather rainy, which will be a good test for us on our first day of shooting. And with that random London weather prediction, I bid you all good night!

The view outside my hotel room window.

Now I know what the fuss is about!

2010-09-23T04:08:00.001+10:00

Now, I'm a huge fan of any city where people look you in the eye and say hello, far much more interesting than the insular town I come from.

I'm staying in an area called Kensington Square Garden, which is right near Hyde Park. It's an awesome little area, bustling with numerous and curious mobile phone retailers and awesome smelling restaurants.

Today has been hot, at a guess I'd say that it was around 27 degrees. We went for a great walk through Hyde Park where some men had their shirts off, and some Ladies were even wearing bikinis. These English folk know how to take advantage of fine weather!

Overall, a great situation to arrive to, making today's acclimatisation much more easy to deal with. The man at the hotel laughed when I asked him about the heat and said that it'll probably be quite cool tomorrow.

We were walking, trying to find the Museum of Natural History. After a good stroll down a dead end street (past the homes of Lord Robert Bayden-Powell, Viginia Woolf and Sir Winston Churchill), we finally found the place we were looking for.

What a magnificent building. If only I had the photographic training and foresight to snap a picture of the splendid exterior. I did however get a snap of Charles Darwin, who seemed deep in thought / going to the toilet at the time of my photograph.

We met one of our documentary subjects for a cup of tea and a chat in a rooftop staffroom at the Museum before heading back and laughing at the sheer beauty of Hyde Park. Squirrels bounding around, people strolling all around. So thrilling in it's vibrancy.

There is something weird at work here in this place, I feel oddly at home and very comfortable. Maybe because people drive on the correct side of the road and have similar fashion sense to the people back at home? Either way, a beautiful day outside in the fresh air and the Northern Hemisphere sun.

Now it's time for me to have a good sleep. It's been a long couple of days on those crazy planes. Lying down for the first time since I left home two days ago. It feels splendid. Goodnight!

The Long Journey (In Photographs)

2010-09-22T22:10:00.002+10:00

Auckland International Airport, oh the memories.

Boarding the plane to Los Angeles, good times.

Our fearless DOP/Director Randall Wood (bottom left)

smiles somewhat evilly. Is this an omen?

Laughs a minute as the smell of the contents of another

passenger's bowel fill the aircraft again and again.

How anyone can pass wind for 12 hours straight is

beyond my knowledge of human biology.

The Pacific Ocean, as seen from seat 51A.

LAX, a stunning view again from seat 51A.

LAX transit lounge, where I reflect on the "hospitable"

and "welcoming" retina scan / fingerprint analysis

immigration procedures of the US Customs service.

Sunset over the Mojave Desert.

Sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean.

I love economy class seating, it's so good for my body.

Sitting up and sleeping is so natural! One day in the

fantastic future, someone is going to get hauled

over the coals in some form of intense international

human rights tribunal about this matter.

Flying over Ireland, digging it down that we're so

close to getting off of this flying beastie. I

need to go to a bathroom that doesn't move

around and have a good lie down.

The Long Journey

2010-09-22T22:05:00.001+10:00

Why is the process to hop on a plane always so complicated? How to airline staff deal with the stress of confused passengers? They are better people than I!

We arrived at the airport to be informed that because our flight is stopping in LAX to refuel, it is a requirement for every passenger to have applied for a Visa or Visa waiver. Whilst I am lucky to have a journalistic visa for the USA, my two colleagues were not and what was initially a "we're three hours early for the flight" turned into a battle of will and determination with us boarding only minutes before the flight was due to leave after jumping and bounding the red tape hurdles.

I'm of the opinion that airline companies thrive on making things as unpleasant and harrowing as possible before you get on the plane. I think it is a ploy to encourage people not to take any luggage at all, reduce the world's travelling public to the status of street urchins, and bombard people's senses with so much airline jive talk that you're rendered unconscious as soon as you manage to take your seat on the aeroplane.

Once we managed to make the plane (apologies to Cam McGrath for the very hurried hello and goodbye as I was nervously hurtling towards customs), the first leg of the trip from Brisbane to Auckland was fairly comfortable.

However, the airline made a grave mistake of placing me in an aisle seat. Now, I'm that guy you love to hate when he sneers and takes his sweet time to pause his inflight movie and unbuckle the seatbelt whilst you bust a bladder waiting. I am better off near a window as my camel like ability to withstand the pressures of a toiletry need means that I rarely need to get up and move around. Not like the older couple I was sitting next to, who were up and down like speed addicted see-saw users.

I'm now sitting here in Auckland International Airport waiting for three hours until our flight to London via Los Angeles. You bet, the first thing I did when I landed was ask the airline company for a window seat, stating that otherwise there could be a high altitude incident if I end up near compulsive toilet visitors on such a long leg of the journey!

All Systems Go!

2010-09-21T00:49:00.001+10:00

With the patient help of my Love, coupled with my estranged gasps of crude and coarse terminology, my bag is packed (finally).
A sweet six hour snooze lies ahead, and beyond that - a shiny new world to witness and explore over the edge of the blinking green lights on my trusty sound kit.

On the eve of long distance travel.

2010-09-20T20:54:00.002+10:00

Have I ever mentioned just how much I dislike packing my bags for travel? No!?! Well let me just tell you now that it is my least favourite part of travel, closely followed by my second pet hate: being crammed into the economy seating of an aeroplane for extended periods of travel.

This trip will be a doozy, 24.5 hours of flying to London via Aukland, five days in Ol' Blighty, five days in Tallinn (Estonia), two days in Cluj-Napoca (Romania), six days in Pietermaritzburg (South Africa) before flying home from Johannesburg via Sydney. What a crazy debacle, all in the name of recording my sweet sounds.

Looking at my calendar at the moment, when I get back home, I'll have a day to recover - followed by teaching my sound class and then straight off to my next gig. Let's see how that pans out, as jet lag ain't no friend of mine (let this be a mild warning to anyone expecting me to do anything immediately upon my return).

Should be an interesting trip, hopefully I'll find pockets of Internet along the way so I can share my adventures with you. If not, I'll store them up and dump them on you in one big, steaming pile of digital reminiscence.

Let's count together how many times I curse air travel and bag packing along the way...

A Day of Priority

2010-09-19T21:29:00.002+10:00

Too many chores packed into one humble day, a repeated mistake of one thousand previous repetitions. Blow-out was inevitable, resulting in a dense (yet short) snooze.

The latter half of the afternoon resulted in emails, phone calls and much procrastination. Why do today when I can put it off until tomorrow? Is that the wisest move on the eve of international travel? I guess I'll find out, hopefully not the hard way...

Emergency Response

2010-09-18T17:17:00.000+10:00

An older couple were dining at a cafe I was having lunch at in the city. When they went to leave, the older Lady literally collapsed face first into the ground. She wasn't moving and when I asked her husband if she was okay he said to me in a shocked voice "no, she's not". I immediately threw my Turkish bread aside and sprinted four blocks to find a police sergeant - quickly told him what happened and then he ran back after me (with another colleague in pursuit). He gave her mouth to mouth and she came around. The Lady's husband was so grateful for help that it made tears rise in my eyes - and doubly so when the ambulance (finally) arrived the lady left on the stretcher with a big smile of relief on her face (the Sergeant and the ambulance people did a wonderful and amazing job of creating humour in this strange situation). I haven't run so fast since I was in primary school, the policemen couldn't even catch up with me!

Phase Two

2010-09-18T10:37:00.002+10:00

It is done, the sound design challenge of the year has been delivered to our good leaders at the ABC, some 232 spectrum busting computer game noises. I'm feeling considerably wrecked as a result, needless to say - the past week was the biggest of them all!

The next challenge on the block is this impending trip overseas. Ky Oso, if you're reading this - I'll be in touch. I was hoping to have a schedule by now but my inbox remains uncharacteristically hushed. Just for now however, it's a case of the less I know - the better, as I just need a good dose of chill before I spend the next month working solidly!

Sound Editing Highlights

2010-09-15T00:29:00.003+10:00

Valley Fiesta

2010-09-12T19:41:00.002+10:00

Power up the reactionary spasms!

2010-09-10T23:00:00.003+10:00

These be busy days friends! I've had the delight over the past couple of months to be working with my partner in crime, Max Volume, on an educational computer game for the ABC called "Alternator".

We've been designing some 157 (and rising) triggered and looped sound effects for this online - based racing game, using a mixture of synthesiser based sounds coupled with practically generated sound recordings.

We're a week out from completing our build for this game, and I must say that it has been a thrill to work on this project - which is due to be released to the Australian public sometime later this year.

Next on my plate is a jaunt up to the Northern Hemisphere, working on a documentary that is focused on earthworms, and the interesting folk that have dedicated their lives to studying these subterranean creatures. It should be a hoot indeed, I'll be travelling with two fantastically awesome film makers for three and a half weeks.

For now, it's just a matter for me to hold my breath and look ahead. Every day it seems that there is a new offer out there for me to consider. The future is looking bright, and I can't wait to see what else is around the corner!

BabaKiueria

2010-03-22T09:21:00.002+10:00

Last night I ate a fantastic roast lamb dinner cooked by a good friend of mine. It was so tasty I could barely stop my eyes from rolling uncontrollably in their sockets. Maybe he laced the gravy with psychedelic substances? None the less, whilst I tried to establish self control in the name of attempting to make eye contact with the people gathered at the table, I started talking to Gina, a visitor from Germany, who was keen to discuss how the environment affects our society (and architecture), and how in particular British settlement of our country affected the native people and the environment that we live in today. In amongst the chewing and my mildly fluctuating, flavour-induced spasms, she mentioned a youtube video that she had watched before heading here to Australia called "BabaKiueria".

Naturally, as I awoke this morning and the memory of the discussion was still reasonably fresh (yet fading fast) - I thought I'd hit the internet to see this film for myself - and once I did I felt sad that I hadn't seen it earlier in my life. It was shot in Sydney, apparently commissioned as an experiment into the technicalities of location-based, video format teledrama production and was first aired by the Australian Broadcasting Corporation in 1986.

The short film / mockumentary was written by Geoffrey Atherden (who wrote the long running Australian comedy series, "Mother and Son"), and was produced in assistance by the BabaKiuerian Film Commission. It also won the United Nations Media Peace Prize in 1987.

It's an amusing and imaginative re-telling of the settlement of Australia, however in this narrative white Australians portray the role of the natives and Indigenous folk are the settlers. If this sounds interesting to you, check it out! "BabaKiueria" made me laugh quite a few times and has a lot of commentary that is still more than relevant today. Unfortunately, the below embedded videos are not of the highest quality, yet the story is still easily understood. If you're super interested, this short film can be purchased from the ABC Shop.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Wikipedia
IMDb

Life on the road!

2009-11-14T00:06:00.002+10:00

Chaos of fast movements and sudden deadlines fill what has been for me a very average past few months of illness. Adult asthma bought on by fatigue and stress related factors is not my idea of a hot-diggety-dog good time! 12 weeks of draining my already drained bank account makes me question certain aspects of the freelance lifestyle.

I'm back in Coolangatta / Tweed Heads for another series of production I record sounds for. Every year, the familiar faces and luscious surrounds comfort me. So many things can change so quickly in normal life, however thankfully, some situations remain comfortably the same. So many dear faces and good hearts in these hills. If I'm not earthed, I am sky-high.

I'm a tired bean but so happy to be working. These past 12 months have been by all means the hardest of my days thus far and I am so glad to have so much love around me.

The Casual Birthday Party

2009-08-16T09:57:00.001+10:00

Controlling the Internet with the palm of my hand.

2009-08-11T10:09:00.001+10:00

Oh my, technology is an amazing thing. Needless to say (without intending to gloat), I've just entered a new age of mobile communication and naturally one of the first things I need to know in order to believe is, what it feels like to post a blog posting from the middle of a park.

Now I can walk on from this experience with high hope of viewing this strange blog entry later on from the comfort of my control room. This is what we'll be calling a test.

-- Posted live from location

The Last Hoorah In Los Angeles

2009-07-20T04:22:00.029+10:00

Days spilled onto days. Eventually I was beginning to feel as though the shoot was one long day of shooting, interrupted by reckless attempts to quell the aches in my mind and body with inadequate bursts of sleep. Weeks on the road living on a diet of restaurant food, cheap soda and cigarettes was taking a toll on my quivering insides.

After a beautiful, cloud-free window seat ride from Austin back to LAX, we descended into the clearly visible, early morning haze of Los Angeles. Enthusiasm for fried chicken at Cindy's Diner and a habanero chilli pepper laced meal from Blue Hen pushed me through the strange days. Eagle Rock, in my confused mind had become my "American Home".

This was also the final push, the psychological point of "no return", energising my sound recording-weary frame to be able to blindly follow the umbilical cable, which was linked from my sound mixer to the moving camera of the nimble and quick footed 2nd DOP, Kathryn Millis - who was constantly alert and finely filming. Everything seemed like a dream. Every new place seemed as surreal and unreal as the last. Famous attractions and locations I had seen for years in cinema and on television rushed passed in a blur of streaming consciousness and "boom burn".

Having thoroughly enjoyed the company of my room-mates for the entire duration of the trip, the decision was made to let me loose and give me my own hotel room. This was my "party palace", where I entertained the notion of inviting back the entire population of the Comfort Inn near Old Town Pasedena swimming pool for ice slushies and robot dancing. My visions of relaxation oriented grandeur were repeatedly denied by the realities of feature length documentary film making. However I did manage to sneak in a cheeky "self-jam" and a "wild movement minute" or two.

We had met so many fascinating people on out travels, and I also had the privilege to converse with many delightful pedestrians. There was so much information in my brain that I was beginning to reach the point of condensed over-stimulus.

One particular day, my colleagues left the car to film shots in the park at Santa Monica. We pulled up behind two bright blue KABC-TV trucks, the one closest to us had it's microwave antenna mast up, signalling that the resident technician was in residence. As I sat in the car pondering the mysteries of the on board camera microphone, the technician excitedly knocked on the window, asking "which one of you is the sound guy"? I hopped out of the car and began to have a fascinating discussion with a senior cameraman of 30 years of news shooting experience. We excitedly discussed the similarities of our professions, despite us both being from completely opposite sides of the Pacific. His enthusiasm for his occupation spurred me out of the aching funk I was sinking into in the middle of my fifth week on the road.

South Carolina to Austin, Texas

2009-07-08T16:36:00.000+10:00

A big HOWDY from Austin, Texas!!!

The CBD of Austin as viewed from my hotel room window.

A very hot and dry city, which unfortunately had one of it's main water pipes broken yesterday after we arrived in some form of construction related mistake, so now I'm sipping on very muddy tasting tap water. Yum.

A collection of Texan mailboxes.

Well, New York city was a throbbing metropolis indeed. We walked so much and so far I ended up getting no less than eight separate blisters on the soles of both my feet. I had to make band-aids out of gaffer's tape so I could remain mobile for the duration of out shoot there.

Fung and Peter enjoy themselves, often.

After the madness of New York, we headed south to a place called Greenwood County in South Carolina - my favourite spot so far.

An old South Carolina home.

The people there are so charming, welcoming and hospitable. I made many instant friends in this beautiful place and would say that if I ever came back to the USA this would be the first place I'd visit.

After a hearty lunch next to Lake Greenwood.

We experienced 4th of July in Greenwood, which was interesting (to say at the least) - but a story I won't go into detail about here.

Lake Greenwood on morning of the 4th of July.

Now I'm in Austin, Texas, being blasted by the oven like conditions (40 degrees Celsius today) and am here for the next few days before we head back to LA for the final leg of our journey.

Cinematographer Kathryn Millis steps in after Fung heads home to shoot a pilot.

I was so happy to get out of the big cities of the Northern part of the USA. Greenwood county was good for my heart and mind. This has been a very full-on shooting experience for us all, that's for sure.

Lake Greenwood at sunset, an oasis of calm.

New York, Oh My Goodness.

2009-07-02T09:20:00.002+10:00

Well, I'm now in New York City... and I have to say it's one of the craziest, biggest cities I have ever witnessed. The energy here is buzzing and there's people tooting their car / truck / horse and buggy horns everywhere. We even saw steam coming out of the sewer, it's good to see that the movies don't lie (all the time).

Washington Square Park.

The only thing I have been misled on is the fact that people in New York are rude and self-obsessed. Thus is absolutely not true - people here are kind and helpful, and keen to have a chat.

Our first shoot in NYC was at the Gay Pride March. Such an air of festivity!

Once again, the Aussie accent draws all kind of people in for a chat and a laugh. There are so many different faces from a wide variety of different places here - it's amazing to walk the myriad of streets and witness the diversity. It makes Sydney look like a country town, and Brisbane look like like a public park. What I ultimately found amusing is the way some Americans would tell me they have a friend in Melbourne or Sydney and ask me if I know them.

An example of an average Manhattan residential street.

We've visited a few iconic places, Times Square, Wall Street, to name but a few. This whole city is an icon - and the buildings are so tall that it makes my neck sore from so much upwards looking. Beautiful architecture everywhere I look!

The scale of these towers fails to compute.

Tomorrow morning we are heading to South Carolina, which by all accounts is a small, quiet and beautiful place. Sounds like my cup of tea indeed. These cities I've been visiting are just too... big. All I can see are buildings. No mountains and no stars.

Two iconic vehicles of New York City.

Anyway, I'm really doing all right here. I'm working with a great bunch of people which certainly helps.

Buildings everywhere I look, EEEAAAGH!!!

Sacramento to Washington DC

2009-06-29T10:39:00.000+10:00

A whirl-wind trip took us for a drive North East of San Francisco to the state capital of California, Sacramento for a visit to the office of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Arnie certainly has a nice office building to work in.

We didn't get to see him this time around as we happened to visit on the day he was releasing the California State Budget, which by all accounts is fairly grim. A lot of Californian people don't like Arnie very much any more and now they reckon he should just stick to acting.

Arnie has the best LAN arcade set up I've ever seen. RIGHT ON!

Then we flew from San Francisco to Washington DC. 6 hours of flying. It's freaky hot here, very humid and warm - much like Brisbane in summer time, complete with evening storms. A very pretty city though, and much more relaxed than San Francisco (i'm not a huge fan of the bustling big cities - great to visit but the crazy energy is too much for my laid back Brisbane sensibilities).

Groovy mellow times outside the Abraham Lincoln Memorial.

The trip to plane ride to Washington DC was by far the worst domestic trip during my overseas adventure. There were massive delays in actually getting the plane off the round due to a "broken seat".

If you want space and quiet for reflection, the Lincoln memorial is not for you!

When we were about to land in Washington DC, the plane was about to touch-down on the runway (I was sitting in a window seat watching the scenario unfold), when the engines roared into full power and the plane flew very steeply upwards. People started getting stressed, and I even knew that an aborted landing wasn't a good thing. Scared the living daylights out of me and I held the hand of a worried woman sitting next to me as I made peace with the universe and prepared for the worst.

Irrigation crop circles. I had to ask the lady sitting next to me what they were.

As it turned out, there was another plane on the runway and the pilot aborted the landing to miss it. I've never been through anything like it and really hope I never go a similar experience again. To compound matters, once we actually landed on Terra Firma, there was no-one available to operate the land bridge so we could get off the plane and we had to sit in the damned thing for about 45mins after we landed. People were getting very upset indeed, as everyone had quite a scare and just wanted to get out of the plane.

Our brave, hard-working US Production Manager, Dorka Hegedus-Lum.

Visited the White House yesterday, but didn't meet the President. Today we just cruised around town getting pretty shots so I had some time to enjoy the relaxed freedom of MOS (mute on sound).

Why do I only seem to have pictures of the Lincoln memorial?

Heading by train to New York City tomorrow. I am looking forward to it, but am well and truly over the hustle and bustle of these big cities.

Someone told me that this white obelisk is the "Penis of America".

Los Angeles to San Francisco

2009-06-23T07:05:00.011+10:00

Well here I am in San Francisco - and I have to say, it's a beautiful, beautiful city.

High density living taken to the next level.

Things here are going well - we have pretty full days of filming and seem to be doing 12 hour days. The problem is here that the sun comes up early (5.30am) and sets at around 8.30pm. That usually means we have enough light to shoot with all day long...

My eyes boggle to see so many shapes in one place.

We went to the Giant's baseball stadium yesterday to film a baseball game. There were something like 40,000 people in this huge stadium - and the actual baseball diamond is tiny - and there are only a handful of players on the field so the whole event seemed to be a bit of overkill to me - but whew, these Americans take it seriously! They cheers, chant, jeer - it's like watching a pantomime with a crap load of audience participation. The atmosphere is totally electric!

Cinematographer Shing Fung Cheung, master of his arts!

These Americans seem totally fascinated by the Australian accent and every time people hear me they are eager to come and say hello and talk. Everybody says that they love our accent and it makes me feel very welcome in a country that I previously had thought was full of ignorant people. It is not the case. I see smiles and share much happiness with these people. I have resolved that I'll never make a decision about a culture ever again based on news and films.

The mist rolls in on San Francisco Bay.

Director Peter Hegedus commands the crew.

In Los Angeles we visited South LA, an area which is very poor and full of the most marvellous mix of Mexican, South American and Black American people. Again, this place is referred by locals as being a "ghetto" and I have to say that all of the people I met there were awesome. Not many English speaking people but the smiles say it all. Not a place I'd like to hang around at night though - there are many terrible stories about crime and violence, and I have to say that I am really glad not to have seen any of that business.

My fellow crew mates: Dorka (left), Fung (centre), Peter (right)

We're here in San Francisco tomorrow and then we head off to Washington DC on Wednesday (our time, or the wee hours of your Tuesday morning). Looking forward to it although all these people on the West Coast warn me that people on the East Coast are not very polite or cheery. Of course I'll wait until we get there before I make my own personal opinion.

Showing my delight of my journey so far, I pose next to a bridge.

Touchdown

2009-06-18T05:03:00.002+10:00

The flight over wasn't too stressful. A very long trip but upon arriving, everyone here has been absolutely lovely. It's unreal. I've been warned that in New York City people can be a bit rude - but I'll see how that goes when we eventually wind our way there.

First "proof of life" picture from LA.

Drove from LAX to Eagle Rock - about an hour drive. Was amazed to see all the big American style cars and trucks on the roads. Saw some police cars (black and white, just like in the movies), big yellow school busses and even a motorcycle cop. The guys I am with laugh at me as I am visibly freaking out at the differences and similarities. Oh the wide-eyed awe of a first time intercontinental traveller.

DAY #1 - The Flight

2009-06-17T16:45:00.000+10:00

17th June, 2009 - 11.55am

As I write this, I am currently half an hour out of Brisbane flying at a pants seam-shredding 924km/hour at 9.4 km above the Pacific Ocean. The first thing I must remark upon in this situation is the intense entertainment device mounted into the back of the chair that is in front of me (and the guy in the chair just tilted his chair backwards, thus bringing this LCD screen thingy even closer to my face). The touch screen system allows you to listen to music and watch films all at the touch of a button. An on demand system for almost every taste. It even has a public text chat room for bored passengers to text-talk to each other in between meals!

The plane is pretty full of people from all nationalities. For some reason the Captain in his welcoming address said that because we're flying through US airspace for the majority of the trip, the Dept of Homeland Security requests that we're not to gather in groups on the plane. Obviously, aisle parties are now well out of the question!

All I can see out the window now is a few clouds and nothing but ocean. As I write this, we're 376km away from my World Secret Headquarters and some 11180km from LA. As I scoot away from the eastern coastline of Australia whilst rocking in my seat due to the turbulence, I've chosen to listen to Powderfinger's "Odyssey Number 5"" - a somewhat fitting rock musical tribute to leave my home in search of adventure (and sound recording craziness).

17th June, 2009 - 7.46pm

Have managed about an hour and a half of sleep so far, despite setting my wrist watch to LA standard time in an attempt to acclimatise to the timezone. It's too noisy in this plane for me to sleep, plus the young child behind me is about to experience pure terror if he kicks the back of my seat one more time!

It's now 4.5 hours until we arrive in LA. I can't wait to get out of these miniaturised seats and hit some solid ground. I'm finding it hard to believe that it'll be 7am when we arrive. I've got some serious sleep to catch up with as I only had 3 hours last night after enjoying a sausage sizzle (and a visit from the kind guys at the Windsor Fire Station who had a call out to where the sausage sizzle was at due to all of the smoke from the barbecue... no joke).

17th June, 2009 - 06.10am (Los Angeles Standard Time)

Cue the time warp! This day has been going on for almost 36 hours due to the international timezone thingies.

Approaching the rising sun after flying literally through the night across the Pacific Ocean. There's just under an hour until we touch down and my feelings of apprehension are being replaced with genuine feelings of excitement. I've had to fill out a plethora of US Customs paperwork to hand in to the customs officer as we enter the USA. I am now

17th June, 2009 - 09.38am (Los Angeles Standard Time)

A non eventful trip through US Customs (for me). One of my colleagues had mandarins in his back and was stopped by security man and his sweet sniffer Beagle, which provided some amusement for seconds on end. I feel a tad bit off my face due to sleep deprivation. PARTY TIME coupled with delerium!

Across the Pacific in a North Easterly Direction...

2009-06-16T16:40:00.003+10:00

I've always been the sort of fellow that has felt that unless I have explored every nook and cranny of my wonderful homeland of Australia, I have had no need to travel beyond these shores to visit our global neighbours. I've been asked to go to Mongolia and China for work however I turned these opportunities down in preference for a warm cup of tea in my home.

That is up until now. I've taken on recording sounds for a feature length documentary called "My America", and in a little over 15 hours after posting this blog entry, I'll be sitting back on a Virgin Australia Boeing 777 and enduring mind-snapping 12 hours and 55 minute economy flight (or there abouts) to the throbbing madness of Los Angeles International Airport. From an Australian winter to an American summer. From a city of 1.77 million people to a city of 9.62 million people.

Now, I've never been a good traveller. In fact, I pretty much hate leaving my home - even if it's to head up to the shops to buy a kebab (although I love a good kebab, and they are worth leaving home for every now and then). I am an ultimate home-body, a computer slave, a lounge room captain and a backyard adventurer. Every now and then I've had to head away from my secret world headquarters in the name of earning a buck, and whilst I've had fun on these various experiences over the years, I've always been comforted by the fact that if worse came to worse, I could always walk home. There is no comfort in knowing that if worse came to worse this time around, I'd have a very long 11,550km swim.

None the less, after a week of very good counsel from very good friends, lots of loving support from my sweet Lisa, plus the eventual formation of a solid plan from the production company I'm working for - I have turned my emotions from dread to those of extreme excitement. Mind you, I'm having to take the odd Temazepam to relieve feelings of anxiety. Hey, I'm a first time traveller - so I reckon I can be forgiven for having pre-travel jitters.

I've got a US media Visa so I can swing my boom in the streets of the USA without fearing imprisonment. We are visiting Los Angeles, San Francisco, Washington DC and New York city to mention but a few places - but I'm pretty sure it'll be 31 days of intense documentary shooting action. I found out today that I'll have Internet access for the duration of the trip, which is fantastic - thus hopefully I'll be able to take those two or three people who read my blog along with my for a textual journey (which will hopefully be accompanied by the odd photograph or two).

Until then, cheers - and I'll catch you from the other side of the Pacific Ocean as soon as possible!

Racism or Poor Diction?

2009-05-05T23:15:00.003+10:00

[link]

Random Encounter

2009-04-23T11:02:00.006+10:00

Yesterday sure was a strange day here at my secret world headquarters.

Let me paint the scene for you. It was 4.55pm. I was sitting at my super sound editing machine, tweeking waveforms and plotting pan envelopes. I was having a blast, totally focused on my work. It was pouring rain outside and the fat raindrops were thundering on the corrugated iron roof.

Just as I finished watching a clip, I heard an old Nokia ring tone in very close proximity. I wondered if it was the lawn mowing man from next door making phone calls whilst sheltering from the sudden deluge. I thought I would investigate.

I made my way out of my bunker and rounded the corner where I could see the back veranda. The back door and the windows were wide open, but as I had been absorbed in my work, no house lights were yet turned on, and it was getting dark. I noticed that the gutters were overflowing like some form of waterfall as the rain continued to pour. As I moved further towards the back door to survey the scene, I suddenly saw a blonde, frizzy-haired lady dressed in pressed white pants, a white shirt, three-quarter length black jacket and red running shoes . She was on the veranda smoking a cigarette whilst holding her mobile phone. I paused for a minute. She was intently watching the rain, her back turned to me. I was trying to figure out who the hell she was and why she was on my veranda.

"Hello there... can I help you?" I said in a calm (but loud) voice.

She turned around and looked at me, in a slightly startled way. "Sorry, I just had a fight with my boyfriend and jumped the fence to hide - the bastard keeps on trying to call me but I don't want to talk to him. He's a fuckin' idiot", she responded.

She had a really strong perfume on. It was pungent and heavy in the air - almost like she emptied half a bottle of the stuff on herself minutes beforehand.

In that instance I felt sorry for her. Not sure what to do with a strange woman hanging out in my backyard, I paused for a moment before offering her a cup of tea. I figured that if she just had a fight with her man, she might require comfort and peace. The woman declined the offer, telling me that her friend was on the way to pick her up - she just jumped the fence and was hanging out on the veranda to shelter from the rain.

"So where does your boyfriend live?"

"Oh, a couple of houses up the street", she said.

"I see", I responded. Looking at her I thought she was in her late 30's / early 40's - but when I moved closer I realised that she was around my age - she had damaged skin and was trying to conceal it with a lot of foundation make up.

"Do you mind if I have another cigarette here until the rain stops?", the woman asked.

"Not at all", I replied. "I'll join you". I rarely smoke cigarettes during the day, but the shock of this strange woman's appearance really made me feel like one. Plus I wanted to make sure she was not left to her own devices on my veranda.

"What street am I in?", the woman then asked me. I thought this was strange as she had told me that her boyfriend lived a couple of houses up... and she didn't know the street name. Not only that, but despite having some form of fight - this woman seemed completely unworried. My senses started to tingle... something was not right with this situation at all.

I told her the street name and she asked for directions so she could get her friend to pick her up.

Her friend called and the woman spoke on the phone. "What's the name of the main road that is just up over the hill?", she asked me. "Maygar Street" I replied.

She relayed instructions to her friend. Once she got off the phone I asked her if she was alright.

"Yeah. What's wrong with your bloody side gate? I tried to open it to come up the side of your house but had to jump it. I'm shit at jumping fences", she responded.

At this stage I knew something was not right. Why would a woman dressed in a "professional outfit" jump my side gate, wander up the overgrown path at the side of the house in the pouring rain to seek shelter?

"Would you like a drink of water?" I asked her as she snuffed her cigarette in the ash tray. I was desperately trying to remain calm.

"No I'm alright. You've got a nice place here", she responded.

I agreed with her and told her it was my quiet pocket of sanctuary. She then told me she lived in a housing commission unit in Wilston, two suburbs away. She mentioned that she was a single mum with a three and a half year old little boy.

"I'm surrounded by dead people", she remarked before telling me that all of the people whom live in her block of units were old. "I'd love a backyard like this for my little boy", she said.

"Yes", I responded hesitantly. She then asked me how if I owned the house or if I was renting.

"Where's your place?", I asked her - trying to avoid revealing any particular personal information.

"On Maygar Road" she responded.. although this sent my interior alarms ringing as she had only mentioned minutes beforehand that she didn't know any street names in the area.

The woman then told me that she paid eighty dollars a week on rent. "That's a bargain", I told her.

"Well I had better go and wait on the street for my friend", she announced. Then, almost sheepishly she asked, "Do you mind if I go through the front door this time rather than jumping that fucken side gate?"

Not wanting to show her my suspicion, and considering that it had just stopped raining and the side path would be pretty sodden I said "sure".

I led her through the house and she remarked "Oh, this is a great house".

"Yes, many people seem to think so", I coyly responded.

I showed her the front door and said "Well, it's very strange to meet someone in my backyard who seems to have come down with that last shower of rain".

She laughed and said "Thanks for letting me hide for a moment".

I watched her head down the steps. I then used my best foley abilites to generate fading footsteps, making it sound like I was walking back into the house - and then went straight to a concealed hiding spot to observe her. She made her way to my side gate and did did something there before heading out onto the street and walking across the road.

Then I noticed something very strange. This woman then crossed the street and went into the driveway of a neighbour's house and loitered in their garage (which opens to the street). After a few awkward steps, she then cupped her hands on the rear window of their landcruiser and had a good look. At this point, this particular neighbour's dog started barking and then the woman half ran / half walked up the street. She was obviously not waiting for a lift but seemed to be in quite a hurry.

I immediately rang Lisa at work and told her what had happened. "I think we just had our house cased big time", I told her.

Lisa suggested that I call the police and let them know. By this stage I was succumbing to shock. I had just led this woman through our house, past all my precious things... Not to mention thinking about the myriad of potentially dangerous situations that could have taken place.

When Lisa came home she wanted to look at the side gate. There, nestled in the ferns was a broken, blue umbrella. Strangely enough, I could smell the stange woman's pefume on the umbrella. By this stage we were both feeling somewhat concerned. Lisa said to me "I wouldn't have been as nice to her as you were".

Then Lisa called the police to report this woman. She explained my story to the policeman and he said "That sounds pretty suss", and then said that there was nothing that they could do - but if we saw this woman again hanging in the street to call straight away rather than waiting an hour.

Yes. Suss indeed. Now I'm sitting here feeling concerned and slightly dirty... Needless to say, all the back windows and door are securely locked. I am now in home protection mode.

They Live

2009-04-17T02:33:00.008+10:00

In 1988 I was living in Sydney, thrilling out in the suburbs of Maroubra Junction. At the time I was pretty obsessed with Lego, playing "knock and run" and drawing. It was only tonight, after 21 years that I finally realised that I was fairly distracted, for as a result, I missed something big. Namely John Carpenter's "They Live" (if you haven't seen it you can watch the entire film via google video for free, however the compression is nasty - I definitely recommend watching it on DVD).

The first thing that caught my attention were the "Duke Nukem 3D" classic lines. Whilst I loved playing that particular computer game back in the days, I had no idea it was referencing this film.

[link]

There was something about the way that the lead character, John Nada (played by "Rowdy" Roddy Piper, a former pro wrestler) developed from a down-and-out drifter into an ass-kicking time-bomb that really tickled my fancy. The scripted dialogue at times was absolutely and intentionally hilarious, however overall the concept really sucked me in. Oh, not to mention one of the damned best cinematic fist fight scenes I have ever witnessed.

[link]

Overall, I was mesmerised by this film from beginning to end. It's message is well ahead of it's time. With all of the economic madness, corporate skull-duggery, dumb media and environmental destruction going on these days, I suddenly have the paranoiac urge to find myself a chunky pair of black sun glasses!