Consuming (or being consumed by) Perth

 The day started off very low key. No need to get up to do anything in particular. The heavy drapes were closed so the early morning light reflecting off the phallus strewn mural dominating the view outside didn’t penetrate our consciousness. Eventually emerging into the bright warm sunny Saturday morning on Murray street to see the place swarming with an eclectic crowd of peeps that continued to be so for the rest of the day and ultimately into the evening. The heart of our home town has a similar smattering of dislocated people weaving their way through (and thus being part of) the various demographics of humanity making up the rest of the crowd.

There is not enough space in this blog or indeed enough time for this blogger to even start trying to describe in detail those widely varying demographics, let alone how they transform as the day gets older. Needless to say that from the casual observer point of view this town vibrates in it’s diversity and acceptance. This is a good thing and something they should be proud of. We had breaky in a commercial café (first place we came across) and then parted ways. Non-Blogger went shopping. Blogger went around the block – took some snaps and went home to rest, wind down, read some more of the current book and then started to think that maybe the swell of humanity out there needed another look. The malaise was due to the knowledge that we’d booked a tour of the place later in the day and didn’t want to ruin the forthcoming enlightenment.

Once reunited, we headed off down to the quay on the river which has been done up into a brilliantly picturesque example of how we as a race can spend time and effort throwing materials around in a controlled manner in order to create an environment in which we can all collectively appreciate. Lots of family types of activities and attractions.

The sky was a brilliantly clear blue and the waters glistened as they were graciously disturbed by ferries, jet skis and amateur fishing boats. No one was complaining. No one was swimming. The bull sharks were not visible. The connection obvious to only those willing to consider it.

Leaving these contemplations floating away on the tidal drift of the river we headed back up the hill via a garden interlude in order to join our previously booked walking tour. Having an hour to spend hanging around Hay St. Mall was actually good fun… no pressure to go anywhere. Actual pressure to stay where we were and so…. We encouraged a young violinist to keep playing Hey Jude (think about it… it not an easy thing to pass off well …suspect this young lad will be famous one day)... seeing the crowd at the front of the AFL store quickly dispersing when the Eagles lost to the Roos and finally succumbing to the idea of ice-creams (for one) and milkshakes  (for the other).

The walking tour of the local area, initially focussing on the history of the place and then more looking at the street art and modern architecture efforts to uplift the place was awesome. 2.5 hours and 100 buckazoids well spent. From the stories of the original inhabitants to the original settlers and thus the destruction of the former to the benefit of next to the eventual appreciation of the ways the resulting generational emotions can be expressed via paint on walls was pretty much the underlying context of the tour.

Lots of pictures were taken – suspect to the chagrin of half the tour group (which was  group of three local girls wanting to do something interesting before they caught up for dinner) – the outcome of course will be a montage to be consumed by very few and possibly with no idea about what each frame was all about. I’ve already forgot all the details our guide provided, i.e. who the artist was, how long they took to create it, what their angle is and… yadda…yadda..(thanks Jerry).

Still find it pretty funny that one of the highlights of the tour is our bedroom view. Luckily, we have closed aircon as the alleyway below is notorious for its persistent reeking.

The depiction of the historical fabric industry mural was a fave among the walking crew. The amount of artwork, sculpture, architecture and all the associated effort to make the place interesting has succeeded in making the place interesting. Hats off to the Sandgropers – this place certainly deserves attention, not for the wealth they bring in to all of us living on this wide flat brown land but in the way they show how we can (at least attempt to) show some sort of civility to the process.

The streets are buzzing with a healthy vibe, there are a huge variety of people from many races, ages, genders, dressed in a variety of ways all moving around at pace. Most with smiling faces, those without seem to mix in without discord.

Our evening ended up with dinner on the balcony of the Grand Hotel watching the throngs cross the road below and complaining about the huge public signage screen showing obtrusive advertising when they could be using it for something artful and thus for the public good. Lo and behold!– they started do just that. Gotta love a society that appreciates things beyond simply the $

P.S. heading out into that aforementioned  big wide flat brown land tomorrow - daily updates may not be daily...