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Our first home

Blue

There when it mattered

Not the most expensive

Big, nothing fancy

Roomy

Shelter from the rain

Inside the mind

Words without judgement

Happiness

#firsthome #melbourne #festival

Yousuke

Last night I went to the Yousuke Yoshimatsu gig. He played for 2 hours, everything from ethereal ambience to mind-numbing industrial jackhammering repetitions and everything in between. My biggest takeaway from the show, though, is that the crowd matters a lot. In this case, not everyone was there to see his performance and ride the rollercoaster that a good DJ can take you through.

I am not saying that the crowd ruined it for me. But when you have shirtless, wingspan tattooed snap happy clowns that pretend it's all fun when the record button on their phone hits red but then go back to their otherwise morose expression, you know you are not amongst the best.

The other realisation I have had is that I prefer DJs who produce. The difference between Yousuke and someone like a Haai or Rona, whom I saw recently, is that the originals, sprinkled in with the borrowed track is what makes it a unique experience.

Would I see Yousuke again?

I wouldn't rush to it. I think the conditions would have to be a bit more favourable. With a better venue (the sound was meh), better crowd, and some chemical support, it might just hit the spot.

P.S. Yes he played kulikikaka

#yousuke yoshimatsu #melbourne #techno #rave

Reflections on Kitchen Confidential

Reading Kitchen Confidential is like listening to your friend who captures the attention of the whole group, in a conversation at the bar, eliciting smiles from everyone across the table. Hands crossed on the table, heads leaning forward, ears perked, and eyes darting, hunting for connection with one another.

I read Kitchen Confidential after becoming familiar with Anthony Bourdain after watching episodes of his series Parts Unknown. The benefit of reading a book from someone whose voice you have heard is that every word, every sentence you read echoes in your head with their voice. The inflections, the pauses, and the tone are perfectly reflected.

Anthony Bourdain reveals the ugly, gruelling, almost criminal and soul-crushing part of being a cook aspiring to be a chef. If there was one thing I took away from the book, it was that to become a chef, at least in that era, you had to live the life 24x7. There was no turning off, no hobbies, no commitments of any sort outside of the kitchen and the masters you were serving. Always on, either executing with full concentration on the task at hand or preparing for the next hour or day.

The best thing about the book is its entertainment value. Bourdain creates an almost unbelievable, "surely it's fiction" type environment in his writing. It's not that each of the events in isolation are difficult to believe. It's when you combine encounters with the coke-snorting characters, the criminal dishwashers, the fraudster owners and the non-stop jumps from one interesting tale to another, that's when you go - How can someone's life be this interesting and entertaining?

Anyway, great read. The next is a non-fiction one. A shameful return to a self-help, get-rich-quick, here's all these great-sounding ideas on paper type book. But I am trying to restrain myself from being too judgmental. Let's see how it goes....

#kitchen confidential #parts unknown #anthony bourdain

Today, I am staying at this Airbnb in Petticoat Creek, called the Kookaburra Wellness Retreat. This isn’t our first time here - I stayed here a few years ago and loved the warm, comforting feeling it brought us. This time around, I am sharing accommodation with my parents and just relaxing. Anyway, this place is filled with rainbow crochets, tie-die patterns, wooden walls, supported by unaltered beams, the strong form of the living tree on full display. At some point, you have to wonder, when does a place have too much colour?

The presence of colour in one’s environment brings joy, stimulation, thought and fires up the brain with wonder. But this place reminds me of the sensory overload you get in India. I am not talking about the annoying beeps, unsavoury smells or sights. I am referring to the maximal approach to dress, decoration, and celebration. Everything about this place is maximal, to the max, punching your senses with a fractal pattern here, and an orbital wave there, and a perfectly symmetrical netting right in between.

#thoughts #melbourne