on rollercoasters & tumbleweeds
I never liked roller coasters. I still don’t. I doubt I will ride one ever again. Not a real one. I like the way they look, though. Especially the rickety wooden ones. Especially the broken ones in underloved old amusement parks — too much trouble to dismantle, too much trouble to repair. There’s something so forlornly gorgeous about them — the busted scaffolding startling white against a sky that’s either broodingly dark or blisteringly blue (never just that nondescript oyster colour), like an assortment of ribcages. I guess that’s just my sort of sad sack* aesthetic. (I also like birdshit-and-lichen covered gravestones, things that don’t work, that are beautifully decrepid… I don’t like outright plainly unrepentently ugly things though. Photorealism etc gives me the shits a bit.)
I have no regrets about the fact that — in all probability — my rollercoaster-riding days are over.
We just saw Waiting for Godot. It was cool. I’ve wanted to see it since I was about 14. If I don’t manage to sell our matinee tickets on Trade Me I might just go and see it again on Saturday.
House selling is quite a hilarious affair. Tonight I pictured Simon and me living under a bridge. It was actually quite a sweet and sheltered little place I had conjured up for us. Like a troll’s lair or a billy goat’s grassy den. I pictured us laying out our giant pieces of cardboard to absorb the earth’s damp, plumping our mossy pillows as we contemplated the stars before calling it a night. I then went and told Simon I would live under a bridge with him. He sort of looked at me a bit funny.
We’ve had a ‘desk shuffle’ at work this week. Most of the people sitting around me have moved to another floor. Those of us remaining work in silence, occasionally pausing to look up and comment on the tumbleweeds. And note that the sun came out this afternoon for about 25 minutes and then went away. But anyway.
In amongst all this excitement today I checked out my extended Bermuda family’s summer snapshots. It was like yearning to live inside someone else’s tropical island screen saver. It was visceral and disarming. So much blue. Bright pastels and white sand. I can’t really explain it. I felt like I was back there — just for the merest of milliseconds — and I wanted to be. Because the water is bluer in Bermuda. But it passed. I got back to the task at hand. And forgot about it until now.
* This term has been coined in my honour. It is often applied to Things I Like. It is also used to encapsulate a type of music that is not quite emo as we know it. It’s its own thing.
Filed under: beauty, daytoday, nostalgia, things I like, Wellington events | Leave a Comment
Tags: Bermuda, rollercoasters, things I like, Waiting for Godot