Behold the glory that is Perth in spring. And I have no one to share it with.

One Sunday afternoon

One Sunday afternoon

On a different note, the Perth Swing Dance Society had its monthly Club Splanky this Saturday just past. The theme, not astonishingly, was Halloween. I had several ideas for a costume; however, I couldn’t find a scythe (it would be difficult carrying it on the motorbike anyway), so that was the traditional ‘death’ costume out. I could have worn nothing but a pair of shorts, and been Cousin It; the mechanics involved in lighting up a lightbulb when I put it in my mouth were too involved; I could have dressed top to toe in black except for my right hand, and been Thing. The going joke concerning Halloween is the tête-à-tête between good and evil, which no one takes seriously; however, if I carried out any variation of my last idea, and brought this reality to the party, I imagine I would have been unceremoniously ostracised. This final idea was to go not dressed up at all, but leave little stickers or notes on or around people giving times and causes of their deaths: the message being that death can find you in everyday guise, and so is often unexpected. I hoped to prod people to think about what will happen after they die.

In any case, all these ideas I has the night before, leaving little time for preparations. The next day I was feeling especially somnolent and slept a lot, leaving even less time. Moreover I wasn’t feeling overly hale and chipper and it was only at the last moment I decided to go. I hoped to use the Halloween theme to talk to people about life and death, good and evil, or at the very least to be of some benefit to someone in some way.

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