Static
Mum, 1971
This is a photo of my mum when she was 12 years old (she’d just been to queensland). Everyone’s so obsessed with the idea of vintage and ‘old school’ these days that this style of photograph could well be preferred in my group of friends to that of a brand new Canon 7D. Or whatever they’re called.
There is a constant theme within people that we always want what we can’t have. I bet mum’s class mates would have killed for her Cairns coloured cheeks if they’d spent September in the unpredictable Geelong spring. Her eyes would have been the envy of all of the brown eyed girls she knew, yet, as confessed by mum, she’s always wanted to be a blond (and has since made this a reality).
Potentially it’s social stature that drew humanity to jealousy, or potentially just a longing for the unknown, that the grass may in fact be greener on the other side. I’ve known girls who have been single for years, date a boy solely because she wanted a boyfriend, not because she liked the guy; and friends who are constantly changing their habits because of what others are doing.
I wonder whether it’s even socially acceptable anymore to be perfectly happy with things just as you have them. I am by no means saying that I am, only that it’s been a very long time since I asked someone how they were going, and have them say, ‘perfectly’.
I don’t appreciate good health until I fall sick. Thank you Joni Mitchell for Big Yellow Taxi.
Probably not natural for someone to sing that high, but there’s a nice little message in there.
Happy listening.