Not Eaten By a Shark on the River This Christmas

we went in the river again. we always go in the river now. heaps of beauties came. tristan, kind of melancholy but rallying, lyndon, kind of quiet but with new hair, loren, loud across the water, mid-apocalypse as she might say. “the tines”, alex and chloe, who we call both by the same name. one ‘tine’ on a kayak, the other ‘tine’ on a raft built by matt’s brother and towed by loren.

yeah, we go out all the time now, into a part of the day that’s just completely made of gold. gold on the water, gold in the sky. all reflected from one place to another, the second last place on people’s bodies and faces, the very last place into our eyes.

one man made this happen, our friend matt. he just started collecting boats for cheap on the internet, and it’s changed us all. me, i go far ahead of the other people to one spot in the river where i feel all things are ok. yesterday i sat there waiting for the bull shark to come, willing it to come. i tucked my feet up and wished it to come and bite the front of the kayak off, and for me to survive but to have seen this big thing.

lots of sad things happened the last week. leaving a friend in the city with no-where to stay, all her things taken, starting to steal from people too, shaving more than normal off her eyebrows because of something going very wrong inside her head. but even she came on the water. if we could just make it happen every day maybe somehow things could be different.

and the nice things too, coming home to play on my keyboard and eva coming in and listening with her head resting on her hand and her arm resting on the old bricks of c.y o’connor’s lost horse stable. and nick coming to sit at the door and listen too, and then coming in and starting up in tiny notes on the guitar and for that moment to feel in a beautiful place at a beautiful time.

arnold schwarzenegger was just writing the other day about new energy and how it’s all going in california. i once heard that he hurt some women but hopefully it’s a furphy and he has a soft and melting heart like it seems, talking very simply to say something big about door number one and door number two.

anyway, merry christmas. hopefully the wind will touch you softly in some moonlight and you’ll feel that all is right in the world. next week we’ll have favourite things for the year and i’ll try to stick to music…