Too much pressure! The time since my arrival home, yes, home, has been extraordinary. The clash of the cliches has kept me thinking about what this blog will mean to me in the long term. In Sydney, it became the megaphone for my inner voice ... the pleading for reason and understanding of a person inhabiting a city - both of whom are somewhat renowned for ultimately lacking both.
Since I have returned to Melbourne, I have slept. I have relaxed in the company of my wonderful, dear friends. Familiarity has washed over me like bubble-bath foam ... and I have breathed in the unmistakable aroma of something I think I recognise. I have wanted to write, but I have not been able to. All of my senses are startled by death (the suicide of someone I knew in the heady days of my previous life in Melbourne) and whatever it is that happens when old friends sit down to a glass of wine at midday and are still at it at 1am!
Some of my friends have aged. Apparently I have not. Melbourne has grown up into a startling city of greater depth - primarily through the risks that have been taken with her architecturally. I have found myself saying "It's amazing how some things don't change."
It has been seven years.
I look forward to writing about it all.