Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Cup art

Toby took this photo of the impressive handiwork by the barista at Cinque.


Cinque is one of the only mainstays of the ever-shuffling array of cafes on King Street. It's always open, the food is always just good enough, the staff always put one hand behind their back when they pour your water, and there's always Minties at the counter. The menu changes, the cakes stay the same. But they've really gone above and beyond their reliable mediocrity by putting Newtown on the map of the froth art world!

Monday, May 28, 2007

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Nosey noseyed!

I found this postcard in my letterbox yesterday.


My first thought was, 'Did everyone in my building get this, or just me? Special, lucky me!' I then tried to peer into other letterboxes to find out. Which looked suspicious, so I stopped. Either way, I'm very pleased to have received it.

As I never get any mail (sob), I only check my letterbox once a week or so, to avoid unnecessary disappointment. Unfortunately this means that the exhibition is already over.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

I got up early this morning to run down to the Cooks River. I had it all planned. It was going to be a lovely sunny Sunday way to start the day. I got as far as Victoria Road just near Enmore Park when a scruffy little brown dog ran out of nowhere into the path of the 423 bus right in front of me. He was all curled up in the middle of the road, screaming. I stopped the traffic like a mad woman and scooped him up. I ran up to the first car, a man in a van, and told him to take me to the vet. He said he had an appointment. Well yes, I had an appointment with a sunny Sunday run, I thought. Another car, with two women inside, stopped and told me to jump in. The older of the women took off her jacket to wrap the dog in. He stayed perfectly still as we drove to Erskineville Vet. Several times I thought he had died. The women, who didn't speak much English, thought he was my dog, and I had to say repeatedly that I didn't know him.

At the vet, they asked me if he had actually been run over by the bus, or just skimmed. As I had my eyes clamped shut, and my hands over my face at the moment when I saw what was going to happen, I wasn't a very useful witness. He was given morphine and oxygen and examined by three nurses in a flurry of intense activity, like something out of ER. I felt irrelevant, useless, and slunk away. I had been asked by each of the nurses if he was my dog. No, I was just running past.

I had blood on my t-shirt and on my hands I could feel the lanolin greasiness from his fur. I ran home, but felt completely drained.

I called the vet in the afternoon, and they said he was stable. He was micro-chipped and they had contacted the owner. I felt a little stupid for inquiring after someone else's dog. I actually wanted to ask what his name was, but that now seemed completely ridiculous. I just happened to be there.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Snub Nosey-ed

People keep asking me if I've heard back from the Mad Max truck guy after leaving my Nosey calling card. I haven't. Judging by the cobwebs, no-one has been in that truck since it was parked there months ago.

In fact, I haven't heard from the recipients of any of my calling cards. Dezza, who knows about such things, tells me that a one percent response rate to a direct mail campaign would be seen as a success. This is demoralising, but if it means I have to deliver one hundred cards to get one response, then just watch me!

Look up

Wilford Lane.


Campbell Street.


Wilson Street.

Station Street.

Sunday, May 6, 2007

What money doesn't buy

I was very excited today to have finally bought enough flowers from The Flower Room to earn myself a free bunch. After tallying up my loyalty points I had a $20.15 credit, which secured me a $20 bouquet of extravagantly-sized plum-coloured lilies. After wrapping them up, the florist (my favourite one, with hair the colour of hydrangeas) then noted I still had 15 cents on my credit, and put together a tiny 15-cent bunch of sweet peas. Awww...


The warm-fuzzy feelings they're bringing me are worth much more than their small-change value.

(Incidentally, the pear vase comes from Newtown's own Pentimento.)

While we're talking about happy feelings, I recently experienced that unbeatable twin sensation of good fortune and entitlement you get when you stumble upon a Really Good Free Thing. I found this beautiful framed poster abandoned on Wilford Street and snaffled it immediately.


Of course, the greatest pleasure of finding a Really Good Free Thing comes when you get to gloat about it.

Saturday, May 5, 2007

Street craft

This has appeared on the fence beside the railway tracks near the Silo Apartments.


It is made with plastic cups, which have been painted and then stuck into the wire holes.


How cool is it! It appeals to my craft sensibilities, plus my fondness for the creative use of everyday items. I think it says Uprock. I don't know what that's all about. Maybe it's just an ingenious tag? If I discover Uprock is a brand name, and it was created by a marketing agency I will be very disappointed.

Some of the cups had fallen out, and I guess they all will soon, creating a bit of a litter problem. Maybe I should write a letter to the council about that.