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Koala Law #2: Once a Muse, Not Always a Muse

So I realize that I have to be the least consistent blogger among Class Sixers. Sorry about that. I’m starting to get sick with whatever has been going around my office for the past two weeks so I’m going to keep this post rather short.

This week Fremantle Headspace sponsored an art exhibit at a local art gallery. The art submissions were from 12 to 25 year olds and the only requirement was that the piece address the theme: “what’s in your headspace?”. The art was just off the charts incredible. There were charcoal portraits done by a class of 12-year-olds and when one of the girls came in to take a picture next to her portrait, I was just amazed that someone so young could do something so intricate. 

I felt a little out of place at the event. It was a small gallery and packed so it seemed that no matter where I stood, I was in someone’s way. It was also a bit awkward not really knowing anyone and trying to strike up conversation in close quarters. The more I interact with Australians and more so talk with Australians about Australian culture, the more I am realizing that people really keep to themselves- great if you want privacy, not great for a visiting student in desperate need of friends. (You have to be impressed that I was able to use Australian three times in the span of one sentence. Well you don’t have to be, but I am and would slightly disappointed if you weren’t.)

After the event Sara, the student who was in charge of coordinating it, invited me out to drinks with her and her friends. I decided that it was definitely worth giving up my guaranteed ride home and facing an uncertain travail with either the bus line or walking because I was real need of social interaction. I was definitely a bit of a 10th wheel because the group were all old friends who hadn’t seen each other in months and spent most of the evening catching up. However, it was worth going if only to talk to one of the women there and learn about her life as a muse.

Apparently this young woman had spent time traveling through Germany, England and France and somewhere along the way met an eccentric French artist who fell in love with her. He immediately started calling her his muse and sending passionate love letters in her direction. They would reunite every so often and he would continue his ceaseless flattery. Oh to be a muse and inspire great work. Unfortunately the work got to be popular and the guy developed a massive ego (hard to believe right?) and his letters became less frequent and more disinterested. The moral of the story is that you never know how long you’ll have as someone’s muse. Cherish it.

Koala love,

Marc

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Koala Law #1: No Spandex

Kate: Any major personal goals, in addition to the professh ones, that you’re aiming for in the 10 wks?
Me: Yes…I want to spend some time hanging out with a koala. I wanted to hold one…but apparently that’s only legal in Queensland
Kate: koalas nice! but seriously there are laws??
Me: Yup. Koala-laws

I’ve been putting off blogging since I arrived in Australia a little under two weeks ago. It seems like I’ve spent the past four years blogging for nonprofits or presidential candidates and it’s not fun anymore…but when you have a blog name sitting there like Koala Laws…how can you pass that up? You can’t. You just can’t.

So let’s rewind to my epic journey to Australia. Upon arriving at Baltimore-Washington International Airport, I was kindly informed that no flights would be going to Dallas (my transfer point) until the next day due to tornados in the midwest somewhere along our flight path. I got on the phone with American Airlines and after holding for 45 minutes got on with someone from the wrong department who then transfered me to hold for another half an hour. Finally, I got someone who rebooked me through Washington-Dulles and Los Angeles. Sadly this meant that I would no longer be spending 18 hours on an airplane with my good friend Nate Looney. Still, glad to be on my way.

When I arrive at Washington-Dulles, much to my surprise, I find out that Nate too will be rerouting through LAX so we were destined to fly together afterall. Fast forward to our flight to Sydney: Nate was randomly assigned to an exit row with all sorts of leg space while I’m relegated to a middle seat between two large Aussies. Cramped to say the least, I was (not so pleasantly) surprised to look to my right and find out that I was also in the Crib row of the plane where they stocked all the crying babies. It made for a fun 16 hours that for sure.

When Nate and I touched down in Sydney, we made our way to our hostel: ChiliBlue. I would certainly not describle it as quality living accomodations, but I didn’t recoil at staying there the way that Mr. Looney did. It was quite comical. Even better was the fact that all the hostels were located in Sydney’s Red Light District and for those of you who know our good Christian boy Nate, you know that getting propositioned for sex is not his idea of a good time. However, watching him get propositioned for sex and turn beat red and speed up his walk the opposite direction is my idea of a good time.

I quickly found out that there isn’t really a whole lot in terms of touristy activities in Sydney. That did not bode well for my week there. I really looked at it like a NYC-clone, but without the fun things like Broadway, freestyle rapping and breakdancing. As a result, I spent a lot of time in sports bars in the middle of the afternoon watching the NBA playoffs. One of the sports bars also offered a poker night that Nate and I took part in and got our arses handed to us. Probably the most comical part of the evening was when a lovely German young woman remarked to me that she couldn’t understand Nate’s accent and needed me to translate…which I proceeded to do…while laughing uncontrolably. I’d say that it was the low point of the week for Nate…but we hadn’t gone running yet. Sure enough 8 AM rolls around and I stumble out of bed to throw on some running gear and in comes Nate in a Livestrong shirt and some form-fitting Spandex pants. This leads me to Koala Law #1: When traveling to a foreign country and looking to make a good impression and not cause rubber-necking and traffic accidents, avoid spandex running pants.

Until next time…

 

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