(Amanda Muscat & friend)
Taxied along in magnificent rain Bonny, Fiona and myself arrived at The Australia Council for the intimate opening night of the exhibition. The glass fronted foyer was unromantic in its neon white light and conservative reception desk. However, the balling skies gave the event a Gothic intensity and I noticed the night’s preferred colours were black, maroon and navy. In the main space, an hourglass shaped vase boasted an array of orchids, placed in the center of a white bench top, reminding me of the last time I sat in the waiting room White Lady Funerals before a burial of a woman I knew by familial default.
(Josie Emery and me)
(Once the speeches were delivered, wine consumed and exhibition space emptied of hips, I re read my invitation list to reflect on who had arrived and who had failed to. No more to say on the non-attendance factor).
(James Stuart, Jane Gibian, me)
The launch night was a fusion of times and people – professional merged with personal (Judy mother bringing me a magical bunch of tulips, Don father and I commenting on how nervous or not I seemed when speeching). Red Room’s oldest and most respected supporters were there, sipping and reading poems alongside individuals new to the Red Room’s architecture.
My heart flashed and flew behind my 24 ribs- cardiac satisfaction derived from the energies of others experiencing Red Room projects and people. I duly admit, red wine teases nerve ends and adds blush to cheek bones and toe bones, from within to without. Another explanation for my fly-by-night smiling was that Red Room didn’t have to run the night. I was elasticated and river lose with no responsibility for details like security, refills or donation boxes. The third reason for joy was having returned from Melbourne that day and begun reading Tim Flannery’s recent collected works .. King Rat, Little Pig Rat but at the top of the rodent universe Emeperor Rats.
Control – the night was not mine or the red room’s, it was the poems. The poem controlled by itself. A Zen masterpiece infinite with generosity, open to being interpreted but refusing to change shape or show off more than it was born to be, never concerned with crowds, weather or how to say goodbye.
