Written 29 July, 2020
I’ve been preparing for Friday’s zoom lecture, but worrying about the power and the connection. Need I get in the boat tomorrow, travel an hour, get to the station, travel an hour to Sydney for proper power and connection? Then all the way back?
My lovely Professor from ANU rings to see if all’s well. I send him a list of the You tube videos I’ll use, including a bit of the On the Beach videos of mine saying that everyone is wired for creativity, but only 2% of us remember how to harness it as we did when we were 5 years old,and a Ted talk by an ear surgeon showing the different in what happens in the brain of jazz improvisors, and hip hop artists when they improvise compared to when they learn a piece:
My professor doesn’t understand why I’m worried. I try to explain:
The material is fascinating, but it’s the technology that might betray me.
I’ll be there to back you up.
I can’t believe such kindness. Were people always like this and I never noticed?I used to go around the world grimly, head down, buried in my troubles, waiting for a building to fall on my head, willing it, knowing no one would notice. Have I fallen into a different universe? has the world changed, or have I?
Dy visits, standing on our deck leaning against the rail. He offers his booster. I gratefully accept.
You’ve just saved me a long trip to the city.
What time’s your lesson?
We find that he’s arranged for his friend Oliver, the tree lopper, to chain saw trees all day.
He looks around the bay.
Where you should be is S’s.The noise won’t carry to there.
S our new neighbour, has the furthest house.
I’ll email him and ask, i say shyly, dreading asking such a favour of someone I hardly know.
Come on, let’s talk face to face. I need to ask him something anyway.
What’s astounding is people who see your problem not as your problem, but a problem to be solved. Not yours, not theirs, just something demanding a solution.
So we both get masks. i email S to ask can we pop in, and we walk around the track in front of all the houses. Long ago we all agreed that everyone should allow this, for safety and for friendship. No one’s property goes down to the waterline except one, and we walk over their front verandah. On the way, I show Dy the creek, still full and gurgling.
We get there, we’re offered tea and biscuits. My problem is scarcely out of my mouth before S says:
Of course you can use my house. Stay the night if you like. Eat everything in the fridge. Where would you like?Would you like the boatshed?
He’s one of the only two people in the bay with a boatshed. I’m delighted. He takes us down and shows us how beautiful it is.
GG offers to go with me and sit in the house as technical support.
With all this kindness, of course it’ll work. it takes the kindness of a community to deliver my first lecture.