Tuesday, July 12, 2005
The storm is coming
Soundtrack: “Strangers” by Ed Harcourt. The opening track is called “The Storm Is Coming,” incidentally.
Sunday 10th July. A grey, windy day. As walked along, I was constantly buffeted by the wind, nearly being thrown into the path of cars. Apparently, somebody died as a result of the wind, so I count myself lucky. Early afternoon, and I went on a guided tour of St Mary’s Catholic Cathedral. It was a bit of a letdown, really. They’d really built up the mosaic on the crypt floor, which granted, was beautiful, but not as impressive as I was expecting. The same goes for the main church, which was just he same as every other Anglican cathedral anywhere, even though it’s Catholic. That’s what you get when you let an Englishman design your church, I suppose.
It turned out that the Art Gallery of NSW was free (hardly anything else in Sydney is), which was a relief. I really enjoyed myself there, sheltering from the wind. They had a really good set of Sidney Nolans on display, and there was this amazing piece by a man called Matthew Jones, where he’d copied out an entire edition of the New York Times from 1969 by hand. Text, images, advertisements and all. It’s the sort of completely pointless thing that I’d do for fun, and the meticulous attention to detail fascinated me to the core. The gallery is huge and there’s plenty to look at, so I restricted myself to the modern art, some aboriginal art, and watching the Indian dance troupe. A good afternoon.
Once more, I stayed up all night, only to watch us get hammered by seven wickets by Australia. What a massive waste of time and energy.
Sunday 10th July. A grey, windy day. As walked along, I was constantly buffeted by the wind, nearly being thrown into the path of cars. Apparently, somebody died as a result of the wind, so I count myself lucky. Early afternoon, and I went on a guided tour of St Mary’s Catholic Cathedral. It was a bit of a letdown, really. They’d really built up the mosaic on the crypt floor, which granted, was beautiful, but not as impressive as I was expecting. The same goes for the main church, which was just he same as every other Anglican cathedral anywhere, even though it’s Catholic. That’s what you get when you let an Englishman design your church, I suppose.
It turned out that the Art Gallery of NSW was free (hardly anything else in Sydney is), which was a relief. I really enjoyed myself there, sheltering from the wind. They had a really good set of Sidney Nolans on display, and there was this amazing piece by a man called Matthew Jones, where he’d copied out an entire edition of the New York Times from 1969 by hand. Text, images, advertisements and all. It’s the sort of completely pointless thing that I’d do for fun, and the meticulous attention to detail fascinated me to the core. The gallery is huge and there’s plenty to look at, so I restricted myself to the modern art, some aboriginal art, and watching the Indian dance troupe. A good afternoon.
Once more, I stayed up all night, only to watch us get hammered by seven wickets by Australia. What a massive waste of time and energy.
