Friday, 15 April 2011

Legal Alien

Since arriving, I have this overwhelming urge to spin around in circles, perhaps the inner notion of restriction creates such a desire. It's as though I want to run as fast as I can, dance as hard and stretchy my body will allow. An internal frustration is trying somehow to find a way out. Perhaps it's loneliness, or the need to find my place in Melbourne, a pub that fits my persona, where there are others, who look like me, dance like me, share the same energy for life, art and craziness as me. In short I feel lost in a city that I believe to have all these things but are just ever so slightly out of reach. I'm an outsider, someone out of 'the loop', I have the researcher tool, honed through years of probing the back alleys and basements of London town, but its failing me here. Everything on the surface looks cohesive, yet when I open my mouth the reactions are different, people operate different codes - rules of interaction. Don't get me wrong I've made progress, but it feels slight - my initial projection led me to believe I would have it all by now, a dance floor, a packed bar, a phone ringing with offers of night time adventures. I was to be riding off into the darkened sky with a crew of bicycle bandits by my side; upon reflection a tough call, internally uncompromising to a fault. But I've seen them, they do exist, the others, on trams, walking the streets, coming out of cinema Nova, happily talking amongst themselves. When I was little is was so much easier - singing, skipping around the play ground, joining hands until there was a big enough gang to play, not anymore. Approaching folk in the street, no matter how 'in tune' they appear is almost laughable, they would think of me as being quite mad. Even when making new friends there is and invisible line between an attractive interest in hanging out and a misjudged enthusiasm that makes one appear needy or uncool. Hide your cards, don't appear too desperate, play it cool, all these glaringly moronic phrases jump into my head whenever I venture into uncharted waters, creating an barrier of uncertainty before I even begin. I miss easy boozy Sundays down Columbia Road, Royal Oak, The Dove, Spurstow Arms, nights dancing at Vogue Fabrics, Alibi, even sweaty Video Visions. So for now I'll forge on alone with my House of Elliott DVD box set and wait for the time to pass.


Pedro Carvalho said...

They are out there. Leave the shell, little English oyster. Enough of Brunswick 'ostracism'.

Martina Randles said...

I'm working on it, leaving Brunswick is not on the cards. Saying yes to new possibilties definitely is. Every day is different though, right?

Pedro Carvalho said...

Right. We're many and I've met a few versions o Miss Randles.