Yesterday afternoon I headed into Flinders St Station for Drop 9. At first I had thought I’d do it at peak hour, so that people coming home from working a long week might find a beautiful thing, but I worried that there’d be too many people, so I decided to go in around 2:30 instead. Once I got there, I was really glad I had, as there were heaps of people around at that time, I couldn’t imagine just how many people would have been there 5pm on a Friday night!
It was quite tricky to drop the Journals with so many people around, I wanted to do it unobserved but that was much harder here than anywhere else I’ve done this!
Yesterday was the day for Journal 23 and Journal 9 to be returned by their Inscribers.
First up was a semi-breakfast meeting with the Inscriber of Journal 23. Over rather excellent coffee, we talked about various artforms which are usually classed as ‘highbrow’, the problems they have attracting a younger audience base and what (if anything) they are all doing to combat that. It was an interesting discussion, as one of the older guard of artforms, how would you attempt to connect and be relevant to younger generations who see you as so out of date? I’m not sure we solved the artworld’s problems but it was certainly a fascinating chat.
Next I headed out to Brusnwick, where the Inscriber of Journal 9 was sitting in an exhibition. By which I mean minding it, and not actually part of the exhibition itself. The opening had happened only a few nights before and this Inscriber was worried they’d frightened some people off by insistently offering beers to everyone who came in the door. The exhibition was awesome, a room filled with interesting work and I couldn’t help but buy a piece before we did the hand over! In the photo on the right, the Inscriber assured me that they were smiling behind their book.
So now Journal 23 and Journal 9 are ready to be Found next week!
This hand over was an adventure… It started with climbing a hill so steep that gum nuts dropping from every tree I passed rolled past my feet and away. I arrived at the house on the summit, which had a lovely gent who opened the door and a 7 foot monster sentry guarding the fridge. I met this Inscriber, who was still in their pajamas – robes fit for a sailor or pirate, and a crocheted wizard cape. We drank tea that didn’t taste of tea and milk that didn’t taste of milk, and we spoke of animals, newly discovered cellars and ancient wine presses, while birds dropped olives from the skies. This Inscriber proclaimed their love for the narwhal, who smiled gently at them from the cover of Journal 9.
Next, I traveled across town to meet the next Inscriber. We had agreed on a local hip cafe, worn wood and all day busy. The kitchen was releasing amazing smells, but we were here only for coffee. About an hour beforehand, this Inscriber had just had some good news publicly released, so throughout our conversation they were receiving texts, tweets and email congratulations, which was lovely. We spent some time chatting about Masters, PhDs and teaching, before I handed them Journal 23. Coffees finished, we said goodbye and the Inscriber pulled out their phone to see the whole screen filled with more messages! So nice!
The final hand over for the day was back in town, in the gold and red lush surroundings of a lush cafe. The waiters were lovely (although a little amused at my tired attempts at sentence structure) and I found that a lemon, lime and bitters works wonders to combat too many morning coffees. The Inscriber and I talked of poetry and PhDs and the ability of projects to clump together like shoals of fish.
Journal 24 has trams and bikes prominent on it’s cover, the Inscriber observed it’s a very Melbourne Journal!