Friday, 12 January 2018

Warrnambool was great

I loved Warrnambool. Two days felt like forever but I could have stayed a lot longer. No plans to move there, but still. I felt actual waves of love, physical and mental symptoms of, as follows:

  • at sunset on top of Cannon Hill watching the p-platers hang laps around the roundabout in the carpark
  • in the library
  • being smashed by the oily, salty, foamy green and white waves breaking at McGennans beach at six in the morning
  • Listening to Goanna at Thunder Point
  • When a man in street watched me take this picture and said, "that's a tree-mendous photo"

Later in the day, not love but something more complicated about time washed over me when I suddenly realised that where I was standing, in the Foster Care opshop, was the place where I found and made my first opshop purchase.
This was a 1970s men's shirt, Hob Nob brand, long-sleeved and very long and narrow in the body, mustard and white very elaborate botanical print, and unusually not synthetic but a very high quality cotton batiste. I know I still have this shirt, it's terribly damaged, but I remember putting it in a pile or perhaps a bag of cloth things to be repaired. I haven't seen it for at least five years. It can never be thrown away.

At the same time I also bought a piece of black, yellow and white barkcloth which about ten years ago got made into little cushions which are just the right size for disciplining Vinnie.
So I was looking round the op shop and listening to the two women volunteers chatting and I began to think I knew the older one. Your name is Janet, I thought. I stared at her for a bit and then I remembered that she used to model for the life drawing classes I did at the TAFE in about 1990.

Just now I went and looked in the shed and sure enough there were several drawings of her including this one.  (Didn't find the shirt though.)

I might put up some more Warrnambool photos later.

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