eleanor j jackson
  • Eleanor Jackson is a Filipino Australian poet,
    performer, arts producer, cyclist, writer, gal
    about town, feminist, freewheeler, and
    friend. One day, she is going to be an
    ideas curator. Which basically
    means, she will tell you
    exactly what she thinks.
    Until then, you’ll have
    to read between
    the lines.

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Stuff that matters most

  • December 18, 2011
  • by Eleanor Jackson
  • · ladies who leisure · Uncategorized

20111218-085154.jpgA little while ago, there was a TED x Brisbane, which I am sad to say that I missed. Because it looked freaking amazing. And there’s a lot of foodthought that I think would have been going on, and I am hungry for thinking these days.

The year is wrapping up and – in some ways – it has been a very hard year, complex and sadmaking and full of the ordinary heartbreak which defines us all. What doesn’t bend, breaks, folks. Let me confirm that for you now.

In other ways, it has been a year marked with enthusiasm and difference, creative extension and personal growth, professional challenge and poetic fireworks. And some bills. And cranky neighbours. And even some hot helmets.

Next year, however, will be better and I hope it will be better by bike (don’t forget your Bikefest entry folks!) Wanna ride any night this week to celebrate it?

I mention TED x, because Mamaguilt (a lady crime writer from Brisbane) reminded me again recently why Eva Cox Rocks and included a small line of Eva’s talk at TED x that has stuck with me recently, namely: “We need to start paying for what we care about, instead of caring about what we pay for”, which was an interesting concept which resonated (and also jars) with the firebrand Mike Daisey presentation that accompanied my ride to 4ZZZ yesterday. Kill the Corporation, or something like that. All of which is a rather circuitous way of saying that I think I want to pay for something I care about. A new bike.

And, in commemoration of 2011 the year that was, and whynot st, the life address that is, I want my bike to look like my bedroom. Is this the most illogical way to get a paint job organised?

We’ll see soon enough, won’t we?

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