I was reminded today, when I was on the balcony unpacking the shells from Shark Bay (after three months I thought I could handle it) of the section in Garcia Marquez' 100 Years of Solitude where the main character eats soil.
I sat on the cane chair and I cried like I hadn't since he drove away that morning saying Macska I think I have to go now. I pushed the sandy grains through my fingers and the mad thought crossed my mind that I should eat it. I didn't, but it certainly rattled my mind.

Today has been a rollercoaster. I woke way too early and not in a good mood.
Coffee and breakfast at Swanbourne already feels like a ritual to start the weekend and I enjoyed myself despite the wind, with the white whipped ocean behind me.
From there I picked up Hand Me Down World and came home .... I finished half of it before N and I headed to the city to check out the Canning Stock Route project.
In the cavernous pavilion 6 of the convention centre, the starkly lit canvases glowed above plaques introducing each artist, their language and skin groups. I thought it was exceptionally well done. The curve of the route, the old familiar names struck with rough temptation, but I think it will be some time before I get the chance to actually drive it.

Afterwards we stopped in Northbridge at the Ezra Pound bar for a drink...I stayed after N left and read more of my book, and scrawled words in the back, and looked at the laneway and thought of Melbourne.
At home alone I spent some good time up in the loft, smearing paint and reading, listening to radio national and lying down gazing up through the skylight.
The crash came when I came to my room to make Christmas cards and when I went to the box for my 'use for craft' photos, other, M-photos tumbled out. And then the shells from shark bay...and so it goes.

But it's better now. Nickiy bought me a notebook with cats on it, and that sort of thing makes most things better.

From this weekend's Australian, by Nikki Gemmel, on friendship:

As I get older, I need the soldering kind. That don't try to change or hurt the other person. Aren't judgmental. Involve a cherishing. That beautiful word: empathy. Are a balm amid the great wallop of life. And often it's not when times are bad you find out who your real friends are, but when times are good.

I am fortunate in the richness of my friends.