To Her Door

January 10, 2011

A short post today.  Ten years ago this week (or last week….leave me alone with your nit picky details!) my entire family, cousins, aunties, everyone walked to the top of Hartz Mountain.  It really is one of the most beautiful places on earth.  Tasmania is magical, healing, beautiful, exquisite, wild, confronting, this, that, everything, everything, everything.

So you should go.  If you haven’t.  It is my spiritual homeland, I would like my children to be born there, I would like to grow old and die there.

My memory of To Her Door is this: packed in a car with all my cousins, driving down a dirt road after a day of extremely challenging hiking, and marvelling to myself at the quietness within the car.  Everyone’s ears and minds tuned into the song, my cousin Sam (who has recently moved from Karratha to Gladstone…I know…the dude don’t do things by halves…) mouthing the words to himself, ears open, eyes chasing the horizon.  Bodies happy.

This is my last Paul Kelly post!  I know!  Thank you, Mr Kelly.  You really are something else.  Every time I listen to you sing I am filled with hope, with a belief that people get by despite their fuck ups, in spite of their unavoidable        human-ness.  And I need that.  I am not a very brave lady, and your songs make me feel like I don’t have to pretend to be.  So….you know…..thanks and that.