Funny, in all the wrong ways

If you've ever been married, you'll relate to my experience of last night's exhibition opening. It was a lot like being the bride on the day: all the running around beforehand, the stress of wondering if it will all go well; and then the event itself: making sure it goes smoothly, trying to talk meaningfully to everyone in the room (and failing), and forgetting to have another drink or a loo-break because you're too busy smiling and hoping everyone is happy.

I think everyone was happy. All the binders I met and saw seemed to be smiling, and I hope they told other people they were the binders so that they got their fair share of praise.

Of course, I didn't get a chance to take photos, but I saw other cameras out and about, so I'm hoping I'll get some eventually. I did take a couple of shots right at the end, just before we left for dinner. The CUPCO people had put out some stickers, which some of the kids thought were really cute and stuck all over themselves. Cute, sure, until you looked closer (and I'm sorry about the quality of these, I was just. so. tired.):





We now have the larger sticker on our fridge, alongside a less explosive CUPCO Dali Lama sticker.

A lovely part of the evening was the arrival of For Battle's World Peace and a Speedboat, otherwise known as Speedy, with her friend Sarah (with whom I'd once worked on a very painstaking publishing project). They'd driven down from Sydney (and were going back later in the night) just to catch the opening! Champions. They came out to dinner with myself, BB and B, bookbinder Elke and other friends. Classic after-big-event dinner at a really crowded, noisy restaurant that took ages to take our order, and we couldn't split the bill. Still, it was great food, and it was nice to sit and natter face to face with Speedy, Sarah and Elke.

Then we went home and CRASHED. All three of us, out like a light within minutes.

I'm off the hook for a little while now, apart from a floor talk happening at the gallery tomorrow between 3 and 4pm -- all welcome, of course -- with myself and a couple of the binders talking about our work, and two excellent poets, Geoff Page and Alan Gould, reading Rosemary Dobson's poetry straight from my book, combined with lashings of afternoon tea. Oh, do come, if you're around. Then I'm going to relax for the rest of the weekend, because I haven't had a weekend for the last few weekends -- I've been helping print someone else's books as a type of 'ghost' printer.

And today, as I type, I'm getting a new toilet. That's right, a new toilet. See? Glory, wonder, beautiful books, good times, and it all ends up with a toilet. Or toilet humour (thanks to Speedy, and definitely NOT SAFE FOR WORK).




[A big THANK YOU to Craft ACT, and all the bookbinders, and to ANNIE.]