rack off edith

 

This is a photograph of the last time I touched this book (I put it in the Kensington street library, if you hurry it might still be there). I read about two-thirds of it and decided Edith Piaf was such an immensely irritating person that once the context of her origins (interwar Paris) was gone, she herself was not worth reading about. That Simone Berteaut is so incredibly besotted with her does not make it an easier read, in fact, it makes it a less comprehensible one. So rack off Edith. 

Now an Edith Bliss book... that's something I could really take on. 

arden st

I think I have mentioned before my fantasy that atop this building in Arden St North Melbourne is an actual house. It probably isn't. Or maybe it is. I mean, I can dream, right? 

Also, I wanted you to see the rainbow. Because remember, when in the sky the bow is displayed, be sure you think of... 

the book arcade

More books than anyone could ever want, as evidenced by the fact that no-one wants them (actually there's quite a fast turnover here. But I'm still not sure that anyone wants them). (Perry was interested in the rubber chicken but I dissuaded him). 

kensington street library this morning

Perry and I frequently visit the Kensington Street Library but we don't often tell you when we do. This morning I took about six books there - mainly things I had doubles of, from my office - and unfortunately took about three things away, on various pretexts.  

(Not sure what the 'we can hear you' on the right side means). Anyway, on the way back from there I was provoked to wonder about the extreme heightening at the railway line in these parts. The line is low, the suburban streets of Kensington in the west are much, much higher. 

This was obviously done a long time ago and very purposefully because the street behind this wall (its ground level somewhere midway to the trees) is all late 19th century. 

At some point in the last 12 months Laura and I had a benign argument (maybe that's just a conversation) about whether it would be good to live on the top of this building. I think it would. But I am also prepared to entertain the possibility that this is not, as I had long assumed, a house on top of an office building, but maybe just an open area. Anyway either way, I realised this morning that while on one side you could probably see as far as the sea, on the other, all you'd see is this: