I am finding it hard to recconcile myself with two actions I have taken in the recent past; I was stupid enough to abscond with a work book, and I was absent enough to reply to the comments earlier with a spelling error. I had to decline some irregular Greek verbs to deal with my frustration.
But, rest assured, the Braze-Wilde Project will proceed unhindered by the loss of what is little more than absolute tripe. I suppose that the collection of all these texts will result in a catalogue that the Alexandrian Library might turn green at the thought of, but why such absolute nonsense has to be included is beyond my comprehension.
I suppose I should simply trust to the power of a larger system than my singular brain, and know that it will be useful to someone, sometime.
The sky was blissfully cool today. Although I do miss the coffee and books that Melbourne kept me in blissfully unaware supply, I have to say that Canberra as a town is easier on the eyes. Not as many beautiful old buildings, of course, but it lacks the frantic pace of traffic. It lacks transferring between two trams, one train, and a bus to get from A to B. There is space, and silence, and air. Shops and buildings aren't scrambling over each other for space in remnants of the past, but are resting placidly in purpose-built structures. There is calm here, there is peace.
I might just be associating my personal preferences with the cities, though. A public servant's city contains admittedly more literacy and a more bookish society. Although a workmate passed on what is perhaps strange trivia; Canberra has the highest number of hardware stores per capita. I am unsure of what to make of this city, but it calms me.
There is a surpisingly large number of local artists, writers, and filmmakers. I suppose that with a large population of University graduates and students this should not be a surprise; I mustn't have thought very hard before I ventured outside.
I visited the ANU today, and saw some of the permanent installation art around the campus. Some of them are quite arresting, and so absorbed into the landscape that it seems natural. This entire city has been sculpted, and while I can understand from motorists and homehowners a slight indignance regarding building regulations and transit routes, I am appreciating the atmosphere.
I wonder how much of our identity is tied into the buildings near or within which we live? Am I seeing this place as lush and relaxing merely because I lived within a contracted grid of grey and brown houses? Would a visitor to Melbourne see beauty in the old buildings rather than old run-down stores and mold problems?
I think that I am becoming an amateur philosopher in my apprehension over the weekend. I hardly ever throw myself into new situations like this. I have, though, complained that I only meet interesting people through organic and accidental ways; here is a person I have met by chance, and I should endeavour to make the most of this.
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2 comments:
The hardware stores are there so that you can build your own bookcases, of course.
I do think that people appreciate the surroundings of a new place more if they've gotten used to the place they've been in. For instance, take the example of Clark Kent. You would think that this man, with such amazing abilities, would not be impressed by anything. Yet when he comes to Metropolis, he is impressed and amazed at the sheer size of the city. While others see old buildings that need tending, he sees a flavor and a sort of living history of the city and everyone that lives there. Is either perspective wrong? No, they just happen to be two different ways of looking at the same visual stimulus. I'm sure there is some point at which even the optimistic Clark Kent would look at a disparate alley and see a disparate alley, but on the whole, he will see the potential and the beauty and the newness of the city, while other people see only the same things they've seen their whole lives.
In your case the example could sort of be reversed. Canberra is much bigger, I think, than fictional Smallville, but it is still smaller than Melbourne. Being unused to such surroundings, you're able to take them in and appreciate them more (or perhaps easier) than someone that has spent their lives there.
Also, I had a question about Greek myth. I'm a bit of a hobbyist, and I've recently run into some trouble researching Hera, or more precisely her daughters. I've found differing accounts of just how many daughters she had, and sometimes I'll find sources that claim she bore other goddesses than what I had originally believed. Can you offer any thoughts on the matter, if you have the time?
I don't usually leave comments for people I don't know, but I find your blog fascinating. I take it you're a librarian or archivist? I'm currently pursuing a Master's degree in library science, so I love reading about your experiences. I'd like to hear more about this Braze-Wilde Project that you're working on. Does your library have a Web site?
Oh, and I think you spelled reconcile wrong - it only has one c, correct?
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