The Library

  There’s a pub in George St. Where bricks line up at the bar on the upper floor. Named after the street, a great place to go – get Guinness – hang out with nothing particularly interesting in mind or to say.
Just all the raging of unfinished bricks of thoughts inside. Settle down the rage of living ? Is it possible with all the energy of the universe in display in the night in the heavens and outside under the influence of gravity from all around.

But bricks have sharp edges and hard like to be arranged solid and calm and flat in place. Well arranged bricks hang together for a long time until the sudden sharp shock of an earthquake or wrecking ball chimes the half hour.

It is time – I’m off to see the Hiromi jazz trio project – on in sydney tonight – where sound on wood in wood will dominate and the bricks of thoughts quieten down for the evening.

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