No internet for more than a week is something, especially in a week as frantic as this, and lack of email access and other non-standard ports being closed is like drowning in silence, though perhaps this is good, less distractions … or rather an absence of things that would surely add to too much. So, a departure and an arrival.
To move between places at such a velocity seems to leave part of myself behind, the wash of momentum or just the slight vacuum created by absence that insists on being filled with something of myself. For a time then, I’m split between two places until the eddies subside and the traces of that me which existed there become nothing.
And into Melbourne where the velocity of arrival left me staggering. It’s been most of a year and it feels … I never have had this feeling before about Melbourne that I no longer have any connection here. It belongs to the past, a place I have been, but not a place of the present. Along the way, Adelaide became my home, I mean in the sense of feeling something, not a physical location, but whatever intangible things it fills my life with.
However, here I am in Melbourne for three months. It’s a new city I’ve never been to before. I’m staying in Clifton Hill at the moment, and possibly to live in Collingwood, and most of my time will be at the Swinburne Centre for Astrophysics, where I have my own office, a MacBook (so as to give my decrepit PowerBook a reprieve), and all the fun of art-science. All places I that are unfamiliar.
The city seems to have grown, more people, more … more. A quantity that once exceeded makes a city a city. It feels like a city now, like Sydney did when I first set foot there so long ago. Melbourne used to feel like a bunch of towns that grew until they collided.
I’m not sure what I’m writing. There were things to say I’m sure.
Internet is returning … surfacing. More and properly next week.