Paper journal entry – 23/04/90

Monday Biennale exhibition number 2 Bond Store, Windmill Lane, The Rocks. Maryanne, Ros, Tony and me. Walking down Kent Street in tune.

Its twenty-seven past and the lights are now going on in George Street. The bus is filling up, with suited women, balding, steel rimmed spectacled men.

Threatening crowds nudge and slam at bus doors, weaving through the cars in standstill streets that are swarms of stilettos and the white shoe brigade. They carry their identities in their briefcases and handbags, while I carry my things in my backpack. Commercial vehicle and taxi drivers leer at pedestrian girls.

And bloody joggers of all things struggling up along the side of Town Hall. Cranes and smokestacks press up to the clouds daring them to burst. Pyrmont, neon, Joe’s market prices. Flash on, off, on, off in window reflection, vibrates with motion. Static on my Walkman.

Ambient house as we pass the greenie territory of Lilyfield and White Bay. The sites for billboard assault. I pass the street of a boy I don’t like anymore. I didn’t see him.

Drummoyne car salesmen, in floral shirts and handle bar moustaches, gesticulating to prospective buyer/wanker.

Stayed in again and watched "A Room with a View" for the third time and "Blue Velvet". I had a beer at 2:00am. I make up my face, and fill my hair with bryl cream and comb.

Menstrual pain all day. Actually, it is the token aching back. Time for sleep so that I can wake up early to draw. Had a dream therapy seminar with Neil Berecry, I like him and his orange pink aura. Biennale was fabulous. I loved the sound works and blind paintings.