at the edge of the universe



I live at the edge of the universe, like everybody else.

That line has been stuck in my head for days. I think I know what it’s doing there. I think I do.

I just wish I knew how the poem goes on, off the top of my head, but I don’t. And I have empty bookshelves, so I can’t even pull out every Bill Manhire book I own and find it. Soon, though.

Magnus took the photo of this globe. It made me think of the edge of the universe line even more. I used to have the great privilege of having Magnus as my own personal in-house on-call photographer. He is an excellent photographer. Then he went and moved back to Sweden. He still is an excellent photographer, even in Sweden, but I no longer get to have his excellence on tap and abuse the privilege.

Digressing slightly (but only slightly) I ♥ Sweden so much. I miss my Annie.

I miss lots of people right now, more so than usual. The universe is very big and we’re all so far-flung. I miss Bex in Sydney and I miss LP and Mr America in Boston. I miss Marie in Paris (because even Google  failed to track her down). I miss Minx and Lou. I miss the farm cousins, even though they’re not far away. I miss Mogwai (RIP). I miss Lily and Liam (and damn they just won’t quit their growing).

I swear if I were 10 years younger I’d probably be hugely into emo. As it is, and as I am, though, I stand on the cross-trainer at the gym listening to ELO’s telephone line up really loud, getting all cut up and dewy-eyed. Oh well, I come from a very long line of emo. It’s genetically hardwired (i.e. not my fault). I’ve yet to pinpoint the Italian in the upper branches of our family tree, but I’m sure it’s there somewhere.


One Response to “at the edge of the universe”

  1. 1 Simon Sweetman

    I miss Mike, ELO cellist, he was collected by a runaway 600kg bale of hay this week and has gone to the big power-pop orchestra collective in the sky. Very bizarre. And very sad.

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