ouch

I am nervous about this [what I think is a] stress fracture in my left foot. I stopped running for two weeks and I'm starting to feel its toll. It doesn't really help that I am having a blast eating everything that is new and in my sight. I've started a loose bicycling regiment and soon will have to put myself on a more strict diet. My foot is getting better- running on it lightly now (still a little sore but manageable on a treadmill). I even bought new shoes for better cushioning! As much as it will kill me I may have to sit out even the 5k of the RunMelbourne race. However it is best that I keep my eyes on the prize. Besides, there are plenty of races in the area and once I get wheels and weekends I'll be able to drive to them. And be in much better shape.

Damn 20s. Damn pride.

I visited Melbourne for the first time last weekend. It was AMAZING. Beautiful city! Great little lanes for cafes and fine dining, an abundance of theatre, fun little shops and breathtaking cosmopolitan architecture. There were two major rebuilding periods for the city- the 50s and apparently less than seven years ago. Federation Square which sits on the Yarra River and is the Melbourne's central common attraction is fairly new. Some love it and some hate it; I thought it was very unique! Characteristic of this entire adventure, I suppose! The Victoria Library hosted an exhibit of famous 1950s photographers. I watched the Melbourne Theatre Company's new production of "The Joy of Text" - which was really captivating.

Jason Whittaker of "curtaincall" properly reviews:

The Melbourne Theatre Company boasts, quite rightly, it now has three home-grown Melbourne writers on its stages: Joanna Murray-Smith’s The Gift at the Sumner Theatre, Ian Wilding’s premiere new work The Water Carriers at its black-box Lawler space (opening Friday) and at the Arts Centre’s Fairfax Studio this wise-arse new play from Robert Reid, The Joy Of Text. (Add two contributions at the Malthouse Theatre down the road — Lally Katz’s sumptuous The Golem Story and a re-mount of Declan Greene’s breathtaking Moth — and local main stage theatre would appear in rude health.)

Reid himself — a playwright, director, reviewer and academic — may be surprised to have been invited to the block party. He told The Age recently he’s probably written at least a hundred plays, and this is the first of them to be staged by MTC. It’s well worth the wait.

The Joy Of Text is ripped from headlines of literary hoaxes and school sex scandals and deconstructed into a perceptive parable on formal and informal life education. Reid’s rapid-fire script has a sharp tongue and warm heart and, while it’s overplayed somewhat here, manages to work as both a thrilling mystery and charming coming-of-age drama.

Most joyously, this is a play that isn’t afraid to be smart. There are long monologues on educational practice; fierce debates around everything from etymology to punctuation. The banter alone is hypnotic, as if Aaron Sorkin wrote a classroom drama. And Reid is wrestling with provocative questions, testing the boundaries in teaching and relationships.

(In The West Wing, Sorkin, via presidential spinner Sam Seaborn, said of education that it’s “the silver bullet”: “Education is everything. We don’t need little changes, we need gigantic, monumental changes. Schools should be palaces. The competition for the best teachers should be fierce. They should be making six-figure salaries. Schools should be incredibly expensive for government and absolutely free of charge to its citizens, just like national defense. That’s my position. I just haven’t figured out how to do it yet.” Reid seems to share a similar romanticism. It’s sexy stuff.)

Danny (James Bell) is too smart for his own good. A heady teenage mix of boredom, isolation and rampant curiosity drives him to challenge his teachers and his outlook. Hard-nosed head of English Diane (Louise Siversen) wants to introduce a provocative novel on a questionably fictional student/teacher relationship into the syllabus, pitting her against younger literature teacher Ami (Helen Christinson) who feels an uncomfortable resonance with the book. Hapless aspiring principal Steve (Peter Houghton) mediates. Danny devours the novel and begins deconstructing and reconstructing the text, with devastating consequences.

The billing as comedy sells this work short. There’s humour here, no doubt, and disappointingly the cast tends to play to it rather than around it. Director Aidan Fennessy’s instance that his players punch the jokes robs some scenes of their plausibility. Reid even offered advice in the script: in one scene Steve lectures Danny that “satire has to be funny”, to which the pupil snaps “not always”. True of this satire, certainly.

Houghton, particularly, plays Steve for laughs, but still manages to make his character much smarter than he first looks. There’s a harshness about Christinson as an actress — similarly in her turn earlier this year opposite Robyn Nevin in Apologia — but it probably works here as the teacher with skeletons in the stationary closet. As Diane, Siversen is terrific as every unshakeably omniscient teacher of a certain age you ever had.

And as much as this is an ensemble piece, it hangs on the casting of Danny, who must walk the finest line between pubescent brat and charismatic young adult. With just the curl of a lip and the cheeky glint of an eye, 21-year-old Bell makes us believe his allure to an older woman while revealing the scared little boy inside. It’s a superbly nuanced performance in his first big straight stage role.

Otherwise, Fennessy’s production is acutely realised. Andrew Bailey’s modular set — classrooms and offices deconstructed (there’s that word again) and stacked on top of each other, barely squeezing into the Fairfax space — allows seamless movement to keep pace with Reid’s dialogue. (The authenticity of some set items — the standard-issue wooden banister, for example — is an instant time warp). Compositions from David Franzke and evocative sound design — the buzz of school corridors, the rhythmic sprinklers outside — deserve special attention. And Matt Smith’s lighting adds real feeling in the final scenes.

It is indeed a joy, Reid’s Text. More fun and certainly more stimulating than any class I ever went to.

I ate rabbit on Sunday night and also caught a couple of movies. I NEVER watch movies in the theatre but with one right across the street, why not? Super 8 was a little dull for me while surprisingly Bridesmaids was quite enjoyable. Perhaps it was because it is so comparable to my life with Molly and Joe's wedding approaching. I am glad I do not have to be a bridesmaid. It must invariably be every woman's dream but assuredly not mine. Though I should start thinking of great material for the nuptials. And the song...

tossed some ideas around. I may resort to what I know best. Three chords.

I'm approaching the end of second week of my 3 1/2 week planning and I am so pleased with how things are shaping up. I hope to really reach to these kids and step up to the challenges that come before me. The faculty here have been so welcoming and helpful to me. I have keys and a piano in a real office! Exciting times!

I miss my friends and family and life back home but that is normal. I am meeting interesting characters here...many Vietnam vets with interesting mantras and a kind group of Anglicans who want to show me all that Ballarat has to offer. Very thankful for Martin actually- a Malaysian/Australian keen on inviting me to markets, soup, and tremendous Ballarat carrot cake.

I came to Australia for adventure. And for revelation. Maybe it is on it's way. And maybe I'm really setting up my life here!

Next step- the apartment. And maybe I'll buckle down and get that car that I'm sure I'll eventually need. Honda Jazz? The Fiat I fell in love with? Blast...so many options.

First thing is first though. Keep moving forward.

(and when I come home for Christmas everyone needs to be around so I can show you how to make amazing meat pies)