Our last day.
A humid day.
A pair of cousins in thongs sat side by side and typed together.
A family rotated gelato with ipods in having their aMoments.
A stripey black-suited beauty gave a big squeeze at the end.
A pair: one with purple, one with plaited hair.
We squished in a family of three, with many smiles.
A friend visited and told me it was too sad before she entered. She agreed it wasn’t so sad afterwards. Phew.
Impressed by a child sporting ugg-boots in the heat. She must love them.
I could hear fireworks. But not see them. They must have been for the Lunar New Year…
The sky turned pink and wanted to rain. Only a few fat drops fell. Much to our relief.
A single teen defied her pack and stopped for aMoment.
Two rushing ladies gamble their time when they hear it’s our last night. I think they’re glad they did.
A lady in white rushed, but still smiled.
And a lovely woman confessed she could vividly remember being 8 herself and trying to envisage herself in 20 years time.
And finally an umbrella was held by a friend as the last audience member had her aMoment.
Thank you Perth.
There were many of you.
We’ve now read all your notes. All 228.
And had our aMoment being stopped by them.
You reminded us why this work should keep going.
Hope to see you again. Soon.
We had a wee hitch this day. It’s only happened twice.
And someone was able to save us. Phew.
No matter how many times we do the caravan, it’s always easy to forget something.
The first two were patient, calm and keen. They ate their dips and embraced their aMoment.
A head-scarfed Mama came to visit & left with smiles and giggles.
A lovely rainbow socked gent came and transferred henna from his leg onto a note for the caravan.
Two friends I’ve known for years. One for twenty even.
A jewelled eyebrowed lady.
Another that required glasses.
Someone semi-pushed into attending by their girlfriend.
A lady in blue and white with kind eyes.
We listened to a ukulele and it made our ears smile.
A man raved about a musical improvisation show with such vigour as his partner took aMoment.
A daughter dropped her mum off for aMoment. She was wary but delighted.
A few cheeky waves to little ones passing and peeking. Including a special pup called Holly.
A dapper man of orange and blue who revealed a smile.
A woman let her ice cream melt to listen better. She gave me a big hug afterwards and said:
“Don’t worry. I’m 48 and it’s wonderful.”
A steamy, steamy Perth night.
The kind that Tim Winton writes about.
We made some DIY aircon.
But, we may have used it more than our guests…
Helps to be local I guess.
A woman waited patiently reading her Fringe guide as others buzzed around her. Ready, she entered. And left with a hug.
A pregnant woman who grappled with the thought of her unborn child being 20 yrs old.
A patterned shirt that had travelled from Zanzibar shed a tear or two.
A returnee with her mother and sister who exclaimed their love for typewriters.
A golden-hearted spirit in a purple skirt came and had speckled eyes before she entered. She was beautiful and asked for more tissues before leaving.
A sceptic thespian sat and was semi-bullied into taking aMoment. He did and left with a warm smile and thanks.
A girl reached for her partners knee when she first heard the voice and looked into his eyes.
A man with green eyes and the warmest sense.
An eager beaver took his time listening outside and made us a heart that floated in the breeze.
Two friends who gratefully allowed the caravan to reside on their verge for a few months visited and finally found out what it was all about.
A big smile I haven’t seen in one of them for ages. Relief.
A woman who was nervous began crying before entering the caravan. A sensitive soul.
A handy fellow used his torch to read the notes as it got darker and darker.
And a sneaky last moment with a lady who wanted to dance with headphones on…but soon stopped when she began to listen.
And we finished early.
A wee bit sweaty but many a warm moments had.
After Monday’s day-off the artists and staff of fringe looked all Fresh.
Apart from some Blue Room staff – who we’d just like to do a shout out for doing all that they do for Summer Nights’ artists. Much. Love.
A few visitors post-work who were very welcome.
Two banana dressed ladies at different times. Both vivid.
A woman entered after her two children and needed a tissue at the end.
A singing gypsy with a jangling silver necklace had a play and remembered her past selves.
A couple unsure, but so glad they did stop in the end.
An elongated limbed inspirational friend with a beautiful smile folded himself elegantly into the caravan. We are so glad he made it.
A hug from a woman who laughed with surprise when she saw what was in the caravan.
Thank you we said, thank you for creating it a woman said.
We noticed the clock at PICA stopped at 6.35pm, which is when we changed performers.
A man patient, curious and warm pondered at the caravan for a while. We’re glad he came back later to experience it.
A man flipped off his “flintstones” which we thought was his name for flip flops. No, they had flintstones on them.
Three ladies, one brave, the other kind the last concerned and chose not to enter. I wish I’d been able to convince her.
A woman wriggled with excitement that she’d made it to the caravan after reading about it.
“Best 10 minutes I’ve had all day, all week, all month.” said a man.
Which brought a smile to our face.
See you for three more days Perth.
Remember when we came and dropped off 100 teacups for you? Up and down St George’s Tce?
Well. We’re back.
With the caravan.
You can find us for a single week in the Blue Room Front Yard.
It’s in the Perth Cultural Precinct – you know, that bit between the State Library, PICA and the carpark?
Dates: 21-22, 24-25, 27-28 January
Times: 4-9pm on weekends, 5-9pm on weekdays
Rock up anytime. It’s free.
We rotate people through one at a time & it lasts about 10min.
Earlier is likely to avoid queuing.
But a little sit is always nice too.
For further details and to peruse all the other delights at The Blue Room’s Summer Nights head here.
Can’t wait to share this with you Perth.
We had a few technology hiccups, then got busy on other things.
And so we apologise for writing this post almost a month after it happenned.
Another two days at Summersalt. By the river.
Surrounded by cricketing fans unerring on their path.
Despite waves and smiles.
It was the couples walking against the swarm that stopped.
Hand in hand.
Sharing their aMoment.
A group of four girls were very inquisitive.
Three sat and chatted and laughed in the shade of the tree.
While one was brave and ventured inside.
“She can tell us what it’s all about afterwards” they told me …
And the couples continued….
“Make sure he does it too” we were instructed via whisper.
A mother and daughter wearing beautiful skirts.
A woman pondering under a tree post-amoment gracefully laughed when she realised she’d become the object of a clown troupe’s attention.
And lastly, a Dad with big lace up boots and his bright eyed, golden haired children. They emerged, unfolding their limbs and smiling their smiles thanking us.
“my wife would love this”
Happy Valentines Day little caravan.
And then the 21st:
A lady from Chile who is becoming a citizen.
A woman with a paua she plans to necklace.
Patchwork boots belonging to a friend.
A lady with a blue top who likes wild art.
Leggings with records on them.
A big back pack belonging to a man who told us as a child he tried to play the drums, but it wasn’t his forte…
And then it rained.
Poured really. For a while.
Its the first time in two years we’ve had rain beyond a spit.
We’ve been pretty lucky that way.
But we did learn our tarp is a gem!
“its funny how there is a common theme in the notes about happiness and love for the future, and that we forget that in our day to day…”
“That’s just what I needed” as a lady stopped on her way to work.
“I wish I’d done this earlier so that I could have told my friends”
Until next time, world.
See you again soon.
And out into 2015 we begin.
In Southbank. Where we started, actually.
It’s been 2.5 years since the caravan had it’s first outing.
I am no longer 28 actually.
But I like that this work has frozen me and this moment in time.
And it still resonates.
Tears were plentiful this weekend.
“I haven’t been to that part of myself for years”
Sitting across from a Rhino on Saturday.
Along the river on Sunday.
A three year old runs around the caravan two, three times.
While his dad tries to imagine him at age 23.
Some stumble across us.
Few are brave.
We have a little home next to us.
These little houses spread across Melbourne remind us of Drop #1. That was even longer ago…
It’s the slowness we see.
The friends that stop.
The odd person alone.
“Will the caravan exist in 20 years?” an 8 year old who would be 28 asked.
We hope we are.
We hope indeed.
you can catch us over the next couple of weekends at Summersalt Festival too.
Up in Eltham.
With cows, horses, ducks, maggies, goats & sheep.
At The Practically Green Festival at Edendale.
Between sellers of honey, organics & eco-goodness.
Lots of little shoes, as we shared with families.
A bit slow to start, but then full-full as the day progressed.
Many dads wanting to talk about the work.
“It’s about stopping, isn’t it?”
“The future is big. And, well, scary.”
“My wife will love this. I’ll go find her.”
“That was beautiful. So special.”
There was also silence as people left.
And grinning teeth.
And little heads peeking in and out.
Word of mouth spread a little.
And many little ones found an adult so that they could go inside.
And towards the end a child with a perfect t-shirt visited.
On our breaks we wandered around and had out own moments under trees, watching lambs or eating well.
Thanks Edendale for having us.
It was a pleasure!