Fatti Frances

I’m at a bar and the conversation rolling along next to me has caught my attention.
It’s distant, uncomfortable and highly familiar.
The same topic has plagued me when at home, usually in silence staring at my computer or lying in bed.
Not confound to isolation it manifests itself when talking to friends, family, workmates.
I think about it riding my bike, walking my dog, catching a tram.
I see it on my wall, in my news feed, PMs and finally in text after text.
I even notice when someone else is thinking about it.
I’m overwhelmed.

It’s the general feeling that this year has been pretty tough.
It’s been hard for everyone I know and I’m just hanging in there myself.
Because of this music has taken a back seat.
So far back you could say it’s sitting at the rear of a yellow van with my 7 year old self.
Me and my family in a shitty yellow van.
Me and sun kissed mister blobby suctioned to a window that doesn’t open.
Me next to my cousin getting car sick and throwing up in a used envelope.
6 kids and 4 adults in an old 9 seater yellow van with a bronze stripe.
And about 20 years later nothing much has changed, at least not metaphorically anyway.

When I was asked to contribute to crawlspace I was enthusiastic and honoured.
This magazine really is one of my favourite things about our music scene.
It’s a treasure.
Other than that I struggle to think of anything else to write on account of me processing this weeks batch of bad news.
I’m not being dramatic and am not looking for sympathy.
And I don’t want to discuss it with strangers so please don’t ask.
I’m hoping this piece will grant me some sort of freedom and next year will be better.
But anyway, my statement is succinct.

I dedicate this to my family, friends and anyone else that has had it tough this year.
2013 can KMA.

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