Elusive Morphia is running late for this evening’s date.
I’ve rolled over and left room for her. She favours others, I fear.
My choices waver between soothing my heart with soulful tunes by those who’ve been ‘stood up’ or turning the radio on and listening to rambling interviews. I’ll risk missing her wave tunneling through sleep’s bones and prop my subconscious into an upright posture that repels the magnetic attraction of eyelids.
There are choices beyond the empty cup and pattering of clouds as they descend night’s staircase and filip through garden’s leaves. So I get up and wander around…
So I get up and wander around
In my dressing gown
Put the kettle on, some music too
But not too loud ’cause the neighbours complain
So I keep it soft and low just about the sound
Of the midnight rain, midnight rain …
While I am on a theme of Australian singer/songwriters who have turned author or autobiographer, this is a piece of music for the other insomniacs out there.
Having met Paul Kelly at last year’s Byron Bay Writer’s Festival I reminded him of the antics of a couple of brothers in Perth WA who were avid fans of his in the early years. To alert Paul to their presence in the audience they’d shout out “Taxi!” at a quiet point in one of his songs. With a slightly strained look on his face, Paul admitted to remembering them. Quick to distance myself I admitted that I while didn’t know them personally but had heard of their technique while sharing an office at the University of Western Australia with their sister Elizabeth. She was a PhD student at the time and played a lot of Paul Kelly and the Coloured Girls‘ music while spending hours categorising and counting ancient pollen under a microscope. So wherever you are these days Liz, I mentioned you to Paul Kelly! <AJC>