Places in Melbourne to be Alone

Melbourne is so crowded, and at this time of year everyone seems to be wearing a brightly coloured scarf and a blooming red face; it is obvious that some sporting events are coming to a conclusion. Therefore it is even more important to find some solitude, some places (within walking distance of public transport) to be with oneself, and not screaming boofheads.

The North Melbourne Railbridge
This bridge between the Metropolitan platforms and the railyards is often deserted, but the best time to visit is dawn on a cloudy Tuesday; a vista of Industrial Melbourne opens up before one. Both the Bolte and the Westgate bridges, freight yards, the bustle of interstate rail, and a weak sun lightly touching the stunted weeds.

The End of Platform 2A at Southern Cross Station
Especially on a rainy Sunday. This Vicrail platform pokes out from under the wave-like roof at SthnCrss and into trainspottingland; I missed 2 trains yesterday watching shunting engines and departing intercountry trains. I found it very restful.

Point Gellibrand Coastal Heritage Park in a Howling South Westerly Gale
I went to Williamstown to look at the sea and walk about in the wind to give my melancholy a more romantic and picturesque aspect and was nearly blown back to Newport. Point Gellibrand has a long and sordid history and I was the only one there to enjoy it.

After that I went into the 'nice' bit of Willietown and managed to find an unpretentious cafe to have tea and cake. I was warm and tired and needed only a pot of English Breakfast and a muffin to make me happy; this is why we subject ourselves to physiscal stresses. My anxious heart was soothed by struggling againgst the freezing wind and by watching the boiling sea.

Outside my Window

Waitresses

Obviously I spend a lot of my time in Cafes. When not reading (or complaining) I am watching people. Alright! I am ogling the serving personnelle. Those who annoy me particularly might find themselves in my sketchbook; or maybe if they merely intrigue me I might draw them. But perhaps I draw comely waitresses to assert that I too matter, even tho I am not comely, or rich, or even very nice to those who serve me bad cups of tea.

A Tram

Last night I drew this tram; a combination of a Melbourne Z class and a Brisbane tram from the 50's. Some evenings when I see my tram (the 55) going through the Royal Park it is possible to forget the sordid insides and boring passengers and imagine it is a fairy carriage twinkling through the trees.
I think I will make this picture (not quite as romantic as I intended) a cover illo for a guide to an imaginary city.

Fog

Now that it is Autumn, finally, I am remembering that my city used to be blanketed by fog at this time of year. In my childhood the whole street would gather up the fallen leaves from the European trees and set fire to them. In my mind there is a picture of small columns of smoke from smoldering fires all along the gutter; so perhaps the 'fog' was actually smog.
I still miss it.

Linden Postcard Show

Yesterday I was cheered by a delivery of about 100 postcards from Linden of my image of a wasp girl (very like the one below). The trams are small and smelly and rattle past like abandoned factories on wheels, full of selfish, miserable, ugly zombi, the busses are bursting with noisy children who have never been told how to behave in a confined space; every day I dry my hair with diesel fumes, and there is no truce in the war between me and my neighbours... but at least I have some nice postcards to give to my friends.

Imbibing

Imbibing

Tea is a marvellous drink, but occasionally one needs something stronger. I did these drawings for a Fringe Festival exhibition last year called 'Ugly, Drunk & Stupid' which also had many of Melbourne's Comix creators.

Duck into Swan

Penny Royal

Monday afternoon, I wandered into a cafe in Union St West Brunswick and was served a coffee drinker's idea of a nice cup of tea. Needless to say I did not drink it and was also put off by the proprietor/chef's whistling along to the music on their stereo. I seem always to encounter poor service when I am too weak from inanition to object or flounce.

I drew this sugarbowl in Cafe Rosamund, a pleasant little cafe in an alley behind Smith Street Fitzroy.

sugarbowl