Dark Mofo blasphemy...

... for Knots in the String.

It’s Sunday night and I’m a blasphemist – I dislike Dark Mofo and that means that by a lot of folk’s standards, I should wash my mouth out!

But I had to come to the city this evening for appointments the following week and right now, our little townhouse’s walls are vibrating. I’m not sure if it’s the celebratory walk through the city with the Ogoh-Ogoh prior to the massive burning of said creature on the Queen’s Domain. Or if it is rock music emanating from the Winterfeast at Salamanca.

Obviously for most, it’s fantastic. For me, country mouse that I am, and whose hearing can develop into vertigo with vibrating sound, it’s horrendous. Driving into the city from the east as the sky turned most perfect apricot and powder blue and the townhouse’s neighbouring plane trees and pines were silhouetted black against the dusk sky on this short day, the traffic, both vehicular and pedestrian, was mind-blowing, and not in a good way. I was all set to turn round and flee back to the coast and cancel any appointments.

By contrast, this weekend the coast entered the Solstice filled with peace, with blue skies and placid beauty. Yesterday, we had the community Solstice Swim, now 7 years old, where attention and funding is raised for suicide prevention. A fabulous turnout of folk in swimsuits, wetsuits and fancy dress, everyone on the beach at Raspin’s by 7.30AM to walk into the ocean and form a circle by dawn. Holding hands with strangers – so symbolic.

That evening, my husband, the Womble and I walked, there were a few stars, a fine crescent moon veiled now and then by wispy cloud and our breath huffing round us like a seafog. The waves were soft, the catabatic breeze down the valley freezing, so that we actually begged said dog not to stop to read the news and pee. We just wanted a swift walk to get the blood circulating.

Once home, we ate rich choc-berry brownies smothered in Mum’s decadent chocolate sauce. A warm cup of tea and Monty Don’s British Gardens on ABC iView (see above. Beth Chatto’s glorious garden!). We are so ordinary, so bedded down in our quiet life that Dark Mofo’s loud activities and nude swim mean less than nothing. I’m glad that it brings Hobart notoriety and that businesses make money, but I’m happy to bunker down and do my odd little hermit-like thing while the world spins around me.

However…

The creative mind behind Dark Mofo, owner of MONA, David Walsh, has created a library. And if you read the link you’ll see why I can’t wait to hop on the ferry one quiet day mid-winter and just wander through the labyrinth of words.

Written words were my life as a child. One Christmas, I received 13 books from various relatives and it was perhaps the most exciting and memorable Christmas ever! I can remember lying on my bed on the side verandah of Mum’s coastal cottage, with the books piled on the bedside table as I started at the beginning and read to the end, in between dashing to the beach, swimming and then dashing back again to sink into imaginary worlds.

So the library will be a highlight. And… ah, listen! The noise has settled, the city has gone quietly to its rest and so too must I, if I’m to tackle tomorrow.

Bon nuit, mes amis...

Music? Something to lull us into sleep.