Monday, September 26, 2011
Night time in Broken hill
The air is so dry here. The spring winds have arrived with gusto and you can taste the dust. You know when you cannot stop licking your lips. This creates the right atmosphere for stunning sunsets.
Broken Hill is really a thriving little metropolis. Self-sufficient is the term that comes to mind. Hard to imagine, so far away from everything and everyone.
I have met some groovy and interesting people. They moved away when younger but return here to have their own families and relish in the region's uniqueness. I have met artists who choose to live here, not locals, but thrive on the eccentricity of this place.
My biggest privlege is meeting the local Baarkintji people, mainly through my work, but also around town. I listen to their stories. Stories of being taken away. Stories of family. Great pioneering stories of working on the land, in the mines. The good old days. Their cracker sense of humour. Sadly also stories of broken families and extreme hardship, and inter-generational trauma.
I took a little drive by myself this afternoon, after work, along the semi arid plains. Again the sky was magnificent and you could almost see the curvature of the earth. I had a bit of a ratty day in my head. I needed some time. To have some space. To pause.
Now, all are tucked away blisfully asleep. And I really should be too.