A Modern Magical Fairy Tale.

Get comfy my children, I’m going to tell you a story of true magic.

Once upon a time in a slightly grungy city in Australia there lived a young woman called Katie. She was a self confessed trashbag who liked a drink, loved music and had a penchant for anything that made her feel passionate. Most of the time she was a happy girl, she had a family in a sunny faraway land and another urban adopted family that both loved her. But sometimes she felt discontented with hopeless emptiness of life, mostly when she had been cooped up at home too long avoiding the world and procrastinating doing things that needed to be done. Other times Katie saw glimmers of magic.

One May night not so long ago when the sun had sunk behind the horizon early in the evening and there was the sharp chill of winter in the air, Katie felt that magic of the world. She ventured out of her cosy little wooden house filled with her favourite things and into the seedy underbelly of the city. In this part of the world there was a heaviness in the air and the streets seemed darker than they should in the glow of the buzzing nightlife woven throughout. Some people feared this part of the city, others didn’t understand it and some downright detested everything it stood for. But Katie felt more at home there every time she visited, over the years she came to even think that she belonged in this part of the world.

On this night and on this evening her trip into the shadowy part of town took her to a dimly lit bar decorated with crudely painted brick walls adorned with Persian rugs and a long silver bar with specials written behind it in white chalk, stark on black. Katie was there on a very special mission, although she didn’t know it at the time.

There was a band of eccentric musicians set to perform and their posse of family, lovers and friends had come to hear the magic bleed from their instruments. The band and their band of misfit followers had all been busy with their collectively respectable lives and had not seen each other for many months. As she affectionately greeted her friends, Katie felt enveloped into the warm arms of familiarity, as if greeting long lost loved ones.

Together they drank and talked away the hour before the band took the stage. They laughed at stories of broken hearts and failed fishing trips, congratulated those preparing to make grand public declarations of their love for each other and caught up on all the news in between. Katie revelled in the company of her friends and the marvelled at their generosity when she tasted the magic of a scotch handed to her.

As the first notes of the band’s opening song resonated down the long, narrow room, Katie felt overcome with a familiar flood of joy. She has seen the band perform countless times before, in good venues and bad, on nights when guitars were out of tune and nights when everything went perfectly, but she had never seen them play like they did that night. Their songs were injected with new energy, some having being rearranged, while other were simply staple classics. The five on stage each radiated with elation at playing their creations to an adoring crowd, dancing and jumping and cheering along with the music.

Katie was lucky, she had felt moments of magic many times in her life. But as she clumsily danced to the music and sung along with the lyrics, aware that she was probably uttering the wrong words at times, she knew she was watching magic appear right before her eyes.

As the clock struck over into the wee hours, the magic continued to linger. It shimmered in the world until the last of the Alibrandi family closed their eyes at nights’ end, then it evaporated into each of their hearts, where that magical night will live forever.

Or at least until they all come together again.

The End.

xo

PS Photos borrowed from Alibrandi's Facebook page. Thanks guys :)

Women of Letters

As you may have guessed from my post yesterday, I was feeling rather blog-motivated last night. The idea to write a letter was also an inspired one, a little seedling planted in my brain by a bunch of inspirational and intelligent women yesterday at Women of Letters.

This event is curated by Marieke Hardy and Michaela McGuire and has been running for a little over a year, mostly in Melbourne but with additional shows in Sydney and Brisbane. The basic premise is Marieke and Michaela invite five influential women to write a letter, and each time the theme is different. Yesterday I attended the second WOL Brisbane show, held at The Zoo. The theme was love letters and we heard five very different interpretations from five amazing women.

Patience Hodgson from the Grates wrote to New York City and the amazing co-op she was lucky enough to purchase her groceries from, which heightened by burning desire to move to NYC to an almost unbearable intensity.

Queensland’s first Indigenous Magistrate and mother of six, Jacqui Payne, wrote a moving a beautiful letter to her babies that brought tears to my eyes. Her unconditional love for her children and the wonder with which Jacqui spoke of them even made my friend who is most adverse to reproducing clucky for a moment.

Morag Kobez-Halvorson, a food writer and editor penned a witty and funny account of her experiences with a string of medical ‘professionals’ including a doctor that came to the hospital donned in boardshorts and thongs.

Author Kris Olsson went a little more abstract in her love letter with the alphabet as her muse. She wove an intricate story of the wonder of words, reading and the power those 26 little letters hold. I could totally relate to her muse, as I also have a deep emotional bond with the alphabet.

And wrapping up the show was Kate Miller-Heidke, with a love letter to her twelve-year-old self, full of witty little warnings and life lessons told with her trademark wry sense of humour and quirky quips. (I think there must be something in a name, because I tend to be a tad self deprecating in my humour as well, although I've never recorded a double platinum album, so maybe it's not as funny when I do it...)

As if we weren’t inspired enough, after each of the women read their love letters aloud, the audience had a change to pen a letter of their own, on the stamped post cards left like little presents on our seats. We really should all write lovely letters more often, and I hope those who I sent letters to yesterday enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Needless to say, by the end I was absolutely in awe of these women and their stories. I hope when I grow up I can make the same kind of clever observations and pen loving letters and stories that make others laugh and cry and feel, like I did yesterday.

If you ever have the chance, do yourself a favour and check out Women of Letters.

xo

A letter of love and neglect.

Dear Blogland,

Let me begin with my sincerest apologies for abandoning you. I know it doesn’t make up for the weeks of neglect you have been feeling, but I’m sorry. Please, don’t take my neglect too personally, my little cyberspace lovechild, I promise it’s not just you I have been neglecting. In fact I’ve been a bit shit all round lately, rarely making my bed, washing my clothes only when I run out of clean undies (and sometimes even stretching THAT), living off instant macaroni and procrastiviewing my way through Seinfeld (am up to ‘The Pothole’ episode 16, season 8). I know it’s no excuse, but life has kind of gotten away from me over the past month and I’ve felt a little bit bogged down (probably in my own filth and laziness) and uninspired.

Since I visited you last, Blogland, a lot has happened. I’ve spent much of my time furiously pumping out assignments at the last minute and handing them in within the hour of the deadline (which is actually more impressive than my usual practice of MINUTES before deadline). I’ve also been agonising about critiquing my peers’ short stories each week in class, especially a particularly horrible Mills and Boon-esque tale about a playboy Brazilian and desperate girl that featured sentences were so cheesy I could have slapped them on my sandwich for lunch.

Aside from my academic angsts, there has been some good things happening, Blogland. I’ve spent some lovely sunny Sundays at the Gold Coast with friends. Yes, one such day was actually spent indoors painting over the multiple foul shades of blue in Jackie’s rumpus room, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. There has also been copious amounts of wine consumed on my back deck between my friends and housemates, sometimes ending in drunken high fives while sitting around the turntable blasting old favourites on vinyl (NIGHTMOVES!) and a chorus of ‘THIS SONG IS AMAZING!

I went crazy one Saturday night, but not in the way you think, Blogland. My girlfriends and I went out and ate delicious dessert for dinner at Freestyle in West End. Imagine, JUST dessert for dinner! Maddness!!

I also helped another dear friend celebrate a milestone birthday, even though she doesn’t look a day over 23. (As we are frequently told everywhere we go together. I think the boys my age like her a lot better than me.)

And I said goodbye to another old dear friend, Beatrice. She was my first car and a beautiful beast that gave me freedom and independence when I needed it the most, as well as sweet toned biceps from her serve lack of power steering and rubbish turning circle. I hope your new owner loves you as much I did, Bea.

I fell in love… with blues music. I went to Bluesfest at Byron Bay for the first time and saw an amazing array of musicians including classic blues legends like B.B. King and Mavis Staples, who while watching, my wry brother said ‘I feel like I’ve been converted to Jesus and I love it’; guitar prodigy, Derek Trucks, and his amazing band; Elvis Costello rocking out resplendent in a pinstriped suit, floral tie and spectacles; Imogen Heap, a favourite of mine since the old days of high school teenage angst; bands I had never head of that blew me away like Fistful of Mercy made up of Ben Harper, Joseph Arthur and Dhani Harrison (that’s right Beatle George’s son!) and Robert Randolph and the Family Band who rocked the pedal steel guitar to places I didn’t know possible; topped off with three amazing Australian women: Washington, Clare Bowditch and the always witty, illustrious and incredibly talented, Kate Miller-Heidke.

BB King

The Derek Trucks Band

Kate Miller-Heikde

Imogen Heap

Elvis Costello

But most of all, on the last day of Bluesfest, Lachlan and I spent seven hours (SEVEN HOURS PEOPLE!) staking out a spot right up front, metres from the stage to see one of the biggest icons of the ‘60s. He’s a musician, poet, activist and artist, a legend, a rolling stone, the man, the freewheelin’ BOB DYLAN! Best of all he played two of my favourites ‘Don’t Think Twice it’s All Right’ and ‘Ballard of a Thin Man’. Being metres away from Dylan was a once in my lifetime opportunity and also totally worth standing there all day waiting for him!

Dylan

(PS Parents: BEST EASTER EVER!)

So as you can see Blogland, while the first part of the last month was a bit le shite, life has been plodding along nicely and things have been happening. New, exciting things, and old familiar favourites like Saturday night at Tempo watching Brooksy & Co last weekend and a picnic in New Farm Park in the autumn sun.

All in all, I suppose it’s been a pretty eventful last few weeks. But I did miss you, my dear friend. I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long, but I have been thinking about you a lot, and I’ve been feeling that deeply ingrained Catholic guilt about leaving you alone for 26 days. I promise, I’ll never do that again (and if I do, I will think of an even craftier way to apologise than a heartfelt letter!) I might not always show it, Blogland, but you are very important to me.

I hope you can forgive me, my beautiful cyberspace lovechild.

Love always,
Katie
xo

Kicking it Brooksy Style!

I wrote this profile about my fabulous friend, Ryan 'Brooksy' Brooks last year for a university assignment.

Booksy, Dreamy Steve, Pope and Scotty the Hottie are now almost finished recording an original rock album under the name of Jackseven, which I am sure is going to be phenomenal!

(Photo from Jackseven website)

Brooksy & Co: Brisbane's Best Covers Band

It’s a Saturday night and the crowd at Tempo in Fortitude Valley have filled the dance floor to shimmy to Brooksy & Co’s intoxicating interpretations of our favourite rock, R&B, dance, house and Top 40 songs.

Scantily-clad women jump on stage between songs to shout requests to Steve Williamson, the handsome guitarist with a heart-melting smile, or Scotty ‘The Hottie’ Saunders, the hunky bass player. Steve Pope rocks a solo on the drums to a cheering crowd then in true rock star fashion, casually chugs beer between songs.

But the real star of the show is Ryan ‘Brooksy’ Brooks, the band’s enigmatic namesake and lead singer. He’s lean and wiry and pulsates with energy, climbing onto the speakers to serenade the crowd or jumping off the stage right into their midst. While he’s singing, Brooksy shows off his dance moves which are a unique blend of inappropriate gyrating and uninhibited bopping. His stage presence is huge despite his not so huge stature.

“I love the vibe,” Brooksy says. “There’s not many jobs you can work at where you get feedback automatically and people come up to you and tell you you’re making them have a good time. It’s a happy environment.”

The crowd loves him and sing along as he belts out tunes from his extensive repertoire, which includes everything from classic rock anthems like ACDC’s ‘Thunderstruck’ to iconic ‘80s tracks such as ‘Push it’ from Salt-n-Pepa and crowd-pleasing chart toppers like ‘Sex on fire’ from the Kings of Leon.

But his favourite song to perform (at least at the moment) is Van Helan’s ‘Jump’. With Scott Saunders stepping up to sing lead vocals, Brooksy does the keyboard lines which he says is “awesome fun”.

That’s because it’s no ordinary keyboard. It’s Brooksy’s new favourite instrument, resurrected straight from the decade that has now become cool rather than cringe-worthy: the ‘80s keytar. Slung around his neck, Brooksy smashes the keytar in all its synthesised glory and somehow makes it look incredibly cool.

Bizarrely, Brooksy says becoming a musician wasn’t really a dream job but rather, “it all happened by accident”.

“In high school, I got a good mark in music and I thought, ‘I’ll do music – I’ll become a music teacher.’ I was playing saxophone at the time, but I didn’t sing at all,” he says.

“So I auditioned for the Conservatorium of Music and I got the lowest mark and thought, ‘F*ck what am I going to do now?’

“But Jazz Works had an advanced diploma in jazz so I did that for a year. I reauditioned for the Con, got in and studied jazz saxophone. Then in my second year, I joined a band called Space Invaders, an ‘80s covers band.”

In his first gigs with Space Invaders, Brooksy played saxophone, provided backing vocals and put his basic knowledge of keyboard chords to use. Then slowly he started to sing more and more lead vocals and began crafting his career as an unforgettable front man.

Now even Brooksy’s hair is attention grabbing, cut in an Avatar-type do with shaved sides and about half a dozen dreads on the crown of his head, occasionally topped off with a pirate-style bandanna.

Brooksy’s popularity around Brisbane is clear in just the sheer number of different venues the band perform at each week. In addition to Tempo, the boys are regular features at South Bank’s iconic Plough Inn, Oxford 152, Elephant and Wheelbarrow, Stock Exchange, Tinbilly’s Backpacker’s Bar and Titanium Bar and Mermaid Beach Tavern at the Gold Coast.

But Brooksy says his best live experience came while playing with Space Invaders. In 2004, the Australian army flew the band to East Timor to play six gigs for the troops, one of which was before Brooksy’s biggest crowd.

“We played at Jelly Stadium to eight thousand people,” he says. “We were just doing our thing, playing the eighties covers, and the comedian Fred Lang starts up a ‘Brooksy’ chant.

“He’s going ‘Brooksy’ then eight thousand people yell back ‘Brooksy’. I couldn’t believe it!

“Then he changes it ‘Brooksy’s a wanker’ and the crowd says ‘Brooksy’s a wanker’ and I had no idea what they were saying. It was just hilarious.”

Brooksy’s wicked sense of humour is clearly visible on stage. He fills lapses between songs with quick quips and funny anecdotes or asserts his front man power over the rest of the band before a new song by telling them all what key they should be playing in.

“A minor, Steve!” he shouts.

The band also like to provide some comic relief in song and cover several Flight of the Concords songs like ‘Business Time’ as well as a very entertaining tune entitled ‘One-eyed trouser snake’.

Dave McGuire, one of the band’s former guitarists and a regular guest performer at gigs, says playing with Brooksy is “always interesting”.

“There is nothing Brooksy won’t say into a microphone,” Dave says.

Whether he is pelting out one of his favourite songs like ‘Final Countdown’, rocking the keytar, going solo on the saxophone or strumming an acoustic guitar in a more sombre moment, Brooksy captivates the crowd. The throng that fills the floor in front of the stage dance and scream and cheer for the band and when it’s all over and Brooksy announces the night’s final song, they cry “ENCORE!”