one week.

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One long week left.* But my mind has already settled into holiday mode, distracted by hot summer days, guilt free lazing, and thoughts of chilling with friends. First year of architecture almost finished, and what an experience it has been, for the good and bad. An eyeopener and a looming ominous premonition of the years to come but then on the flip side you've also got the friends who make it all the more worthwhile. And the course itself, modelling and drawing would be fun if we had the chance to savour it, truthfully I can't see myself in another degree. So here I'm stuck for bettter or worse.

Lazy brain, get your head out of the clouds and hold out for one more week choc full of assignments. No more failing please.

*And an exam/assignment or two left here and there.

food festival.

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White capped stalls lined up in rows in the distance against the misty light sprinkle. Vibrant spots of colour, here and there as people shield from the rain. Despite the weather, a surprisingly good turnout, as people of different ages, ethnicities, backgrounds wander excitedly from stall to stall. A carnival atmosphere encapsulates the surroundings as people call out their wares, samples are presented to eager little grubby hands, and bustling lines form for popular stalls. The sizzling and wafting aroma of fresh steaks, gourmet sausages and roasts on the grill make the mouth water easily. Whilst for the sweet tooth, freshly pounded ice cream and selection of homemade desserts are readily available.

I myself got to share a delicious hot steak sandwich, kylie kwong’s gourmet sausage with shitake mushroom and greens, thai curry roast pie along with numerous numerous samples. The perks of having an older brother with a wallet. Also buying home a spelt flour sour dough loaf, and tiramisu and vanilla bean panna cotta. yumm.

vacant.

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Her eyes were dead as she stared at the illuminated screen, her entire body still except for her right hand drawing line after line, her left inputting repetitious numbers. All around her silence reigned, except for the quiet ever constant ticking of her wrist watch, warning her of the passing time, preventing her from succumbing to her fatigue. Every now and then her head would nod, her eyes open but mind vacant. In an instant, jerking back from the micro sleep to resume. And thus it continued, not only for the rest of the night but for the many nights to come.

 Such is the woe of an architecture student. 

parties.

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Greetings ring out as girls in pretty dresses, boys in shirts and ties loiter on the corner of the busy street in the onset of the warm spring night. New additions are introduced and welcomed as talk fills the small second storey of Little Italy only interrupted by the oncoming of never ending pizzas, risotto and pasta. Death glares from judgemental families are ignored, as casual breaks in small groups are taken to the small vendetta to escape from the sweltering heat. Afters at a friend’s house begin with presents, and a pre-drinks group photo sans the Asian flush. Drinks begin with a birthday girls grenade toast as everyone crowds around the table scattered with lime wedges, salt, red bull and cups. The night wears on with shots of vodka and tequila as others nurse cups of scotch, gin and south western and coke. Quiet tipsy talk ensures, as people relax on the sofas catching up, talking about things of no consequential importance. The time flies and soon the midnight hand draws to a close, the girls leaving reluctantly. One key object being left behind to tape an Oscar worthy video but that’s another story.

Another night, another smaller party of a different sort, equally as fun. Introductions are made over pizza and cider, enjoying the cool breeze and acoustic guitar. Laughter rings out as hilarious stories of bathrooms and grinding are told in the most innocent shock horror manner. Comfortably crowded around the table on the outdoor veranda, everyone accepts the first tequila shot of the night before digging in to the delicious hot mess of nachos, instagram worthy from that lettuce. It’s not long before shouting and singing liven up the mood, as the talk grows louder from the alcohol. The tequila bottle is easily finished, the table now littered with discarded lime wedges. Jenga blocks and poker chips are brought out accompanied by the vodka. And equally the same, the time passes in the blink of an eye before train times determine its time to leave. Ironically, we start and finish with a party of three.

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