Archive for the ‘ WORDSMITHS ’ Category

NEW SITE FOR DR CLAY DJUBAL’S ALTER EGO – HAVE GRAVITY WILL THREATEN

http://havegravity.com/

About HGWT

Originally founded in Armidale (NSW) as S.T.D. Music, Hire and Promotion (1983) by Clay Djubal, Have Gravity Will Threaten (HGWT) is an independent specialist publisher of music, plays, poetry and images from writers, musicians, composers, bands and photographers who emerged out of the New England region of New South Wales during the ‘pub rock’ era of the 1970s and 1980s. After being based in Sydney during the mid- late 1980s HGWT was re-established in Stafford Heights (Brisbane) in 1993.

 

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LETTERS IN SAND

A NEW SITE FOR THE things I find which don’t fit into MELINDA KENDALL or LYNNE BELL SANDERS.

LETTERS IN SAND

 

Douglas Adam’s short history of Australia

“Some time around 40,000 years ago, some people arrived in boats from the north. They ate all the available food, and a lot of them died. The ones that survived learned respect for the balance of nature, man’s proper place in the scheme of things, and spiders. They settled in, and spent a lot of the intervening time making up strange stories.
Then, around 200 years ago, Europeans arrived in boats from the north. More accurately, European convicts were sent, with a few deranged and stupid people in charge. They tried to plant their crops in Autumn (failing to take account of the reversal of the seasons when moving from the top half of the planet to the bottom), ate all their food, and a lot of them died.
About then the sheep arrived, and have been treasured ever since. It is interesting to note here that the Europeans always consider themselves vastly superior to any other race they encounter, since they can lie, cheat, steal, and litigate (marks of a civilised culture they say) – whereas all the Aboriginals can do is happily survive being left in the middle of a vast red-hot desert, equipped with a stick.
Eventually, the new lot of people stopped being Europeans on Extended Holiday and became Australians. The changes are subtle, but deep, caused by the mind-stretching expanses of nothingness and eerie quiet, where a person can sit perfectly still and look deep inside themselves to the core of their essence, their reasons for being, and the necessity of checking inside your boots every morning for fatal surprises. They also picked up the most finely tuned sense of irony in the world, and the Aboriginal gift for making up stories. Be warned.”

– Extract from ‘The confusing country’ by Douglas Adams

WE CAME ON ONE WAY TICKETS – ASSISTED BUT UNINVITED. ASSISTED TO LEAVE FROM ONE END AND UNINVITED BY  THE OTHER. THE ELECTRONIC QUILL BRINGS YOU TALES OF TIMES BARELY UNDERSTOOD AND DEEPLY ESSENTIAL IN LETTERS IN SAND. DIP IN YOUR QUILL AND CHOOSE YOUR INK. THESE ARE OUR STORIES.  THE CONVICT AND THE EMIGRANT AND, ON OCCASION , WE HEAR FROM THAT ALIEN FIGURE – THE ONE WHO CAME FREELY.  

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THIS IS HOW WE CAME. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED. THIS IS WHAT WE ARE LIKE NOW.

 

http://electronicquill.wordpress.com/

 

OLD BRITISH NEWSPAPERS 19TH CENTURY

FOR THE WEEK JULY 4-11 – I AM LOCKED AWAY LOOKING AT OLD BRITISH NEWSPAPERS ONLINE. AND WRITING ON THE NELLIBELL49 BLOG.

 

http://nellibell49.wordpress.com/

 

SOCIETY OF AUSTRALIAN GENEALOGISTS HAS PROVIDED AN OPPORTUNITY TO TAKE A LOOK AT GALE CENGAGE LEARNING’S  OLD UK NEWSPAPER FILES AND I AM TAKING THAT OPPORTUNITY.

http://www.sag.org.au/

http://find.galegroup.com/

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FARE THEE WELL AUSTLIT AND ALL WHO DWELL WITHIN

2 Tough and Crazy people get together and consider life through the Oracle of the Animated Gif. They contemplate the Farewell to AUSTLIT and Uinversity of Queensland, to Brisbane and Auchenshuggle. They fare well to Milton Road and high fortnighly pay. They say Goodbye to – well what are they saying goodbye to ? The First Year. The Second Year. Farewell Wordsmiths and 1. Fare thee wekk cheap public transport with pension concessions. Farewell. Adieu.

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“When the bold branches
Bid farewell to rainbow leaves –
Welcome wool sweaters.”
– B. Cybrill

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Through frosted windows glow the hearth’s warm light,
As fading day casts shadows ‘cross the lawn,
And grey meets grey as winter gathers might,
Undaunted as the chimney starts to yawn.
Farewell brave day as twilight draweth nigh.
Perchance on morrow sun will gather high.
The End of a Winter Day by Dan Young

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Farewell, my sister, fare thee well.
The elements be kind to thee, and make
Thy spirits all of comfort: fare thee well.
~William Shakespeare

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Farewell, thy destiny is done,
Thy ebbing sands we tell,
Blended and set with centuries gone –
Thou dying year, farewell.

Gifts from thy hand – Spring’s joyous leaves,
And Summer’s breathing flowers,
Autumn’s bright fruit and bursting sheaves –
These blessings have been ours.

They pass with thee and now they seem
Like gifts from fairy spells
Or like some sweet remembered dream –
We bid those gifts farewell.

– Mrs. Jones, Thou Dying Year, Farewell
Montreal Vindicator, January 6, 1829

 

 

 

WORDSMITHS FOR BREAKFAST

2 Tough and Crazy people get together and consider life through the Oracle of the Animated Gif. They contemplate THE poetry reading at Wordsmiths for Peter’s farewell to AUSTLIT – the australian literature online database.

They reflect upon the carved sandstone and the University of Queensland gathered to read Australian Poetry. On the ODE TO BEER and Irmtraud’s Lake Constance in Germany, on Jim’s Richmond River poem which he didn’t read aloud but which spoke volumes for the things we know about Ballina. They think upon the early morning in Brisbane and the office on the 7th floor of the tower. Of Kathy gone to Italy and Clay hitchhiking in the Northern Territory.

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Take a two-mile walk every morning before breakfast.
– Harry Truman (Advice on how to live to be 80.)

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Poem by Gary Snyder:
“They Drink Tea”
There are those who love to get dirty
and fix things.
They drink coffee at dawn,
beer after work.
And those who stay clean,
just appreciate things,
At breakfast they have milk
and juice at night. There are those who do both,
they drink tea.

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Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince, and dinner like a pauper.
Adelle Davis

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It is a good morning exercise for a research scientist to discard a pet hypothesis every day before breakfast. It keeps him young.
Konrad Lorenz

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A simple enough pleasure, surely, to have breakfast alone with one’s husband, but how seldom married people in the midst of life achieve it.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

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The brave flea dares to eat his breakfast on the lip of a lion.

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Willa Cather:

Writing ought either to be the manufacture of stories for which there is a market demand — a business as safe and commendable as making soap or breakfast foods — or it should be an art, which is always a search for something for which there is no market demand, something new and untried, where the values are intrinsic and have nothing to do with standardized values.

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