Naturists and nudists, naturally.

The book is called: NUDE It’s being launched 6.30pm, Wed 12 August 2009 at Readings Bookshop / 309 Lygon St, Carlton, Melbourne, AUSTRALIA The Redbubble people (in charge) are intending to follow up the launch of the book with an exhibition of the work (details on this to follow later). For those in Melbourne (or surrounds) who wish to attend, please RSVP in the Redbubble, What’s On forum. Places are limited so get in quick and Hop will get back to you ASAP. The evening starts at 6.30pm, where bubblers/stalkers can rub shoulders with movers and shakers, like Martin Hosking and Paul Vanzella. There will be readings from the book and afterwards more chatting about it all, at the Carlton Yacht Club. The book will be launched on RedBubble shortly after the event. Why am I excited? My description of what it feels like to park the car, after the somewhat dusty drive between Mittagong and the orange gate, followed by the somewhat tricky drive down the hill, into River Island Naturist Retreat, is in the book. Naturist matters, i.e., nudity, have been a hobby now for getting on to twenty years. You may remember this advertisement. It was in all the papers. Yes. That’s me. The gentleman with the white hair sitting beside the VW.

The word: NUDE seems to work so well! It does get attention. / On August 12th, a book is being launched in Readings Bookshop, in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. / The subject: Nude. / The publishers: Redbubble. / I contributed some writing. / I wrote about the feelings associated with reaching the bottom of the hill and arriving at the office / shop / pool of River Island Nature Retreat. / A clothes-optional resort, in a valley, to the west of Mittagong, to which I have been ‘escaping’ every so often, since 1992 (?). / My current ‘problem’: / I’m a typical Libran. Cannot make up my mind. / . / At the launch contributors to the book have been invited to read their work. / . / Melbourne is 716 km (445 miles) from Sydney. / . / Flying to Melbourne would cost about $160. / Plus overnight accommodation. / . / Driving there would mean that I could stop off near Albury and visit an acquaintance. / This lady lived with her parents and brothers in the migrant hostel(s) that my parents and I briefly lived in, in the mid fifties. / Her brothers and I were briefly friends, when we lived in the hostel in Villawood. / It would be a chance to go and see what the “Block 19”, the Bonegilla museum is like, that I passed by, 1999, when I drove from Sydney to Gembrook, in the Dandenong Ranges. / . / (“The original Bonegilla Migrant Reception and Training Centre had 24 accommodation blocks and administration buildings, over a 130ha area. Today all that remains of the site is Block 19. / Block 19 is located 10km North East of Wodonga at Bonegilla. It provides visitors with a vivid insight into what (we) migrants experienced as our first Australian “home”. ( Albeit briefly! ) / Such is the historic importance of Block 19, a new interpretative centre called The Beginning Place has been built on it to increase the visitors’ migrant experience. Self Guided Tour brochures are also available to explain how the various remaining buildings were used.” – partly quoted from their website). / . / Decisions! Decisions! / . / Yesterday, for the second time, I accompanied my father (turned 92, 14 July) to Westmead Hospital, where he had an appointment to be seen by the specialist doctor, regarding his skin condition. / This time this ‘event’ was not as way-out-of-my-comfort-zone as previously. / . / Last time, I arrived early, as asked, at the village, where my father lives. Waited a long time for the patient transport. Followed it closely, in my car, into a rainstorm, on the free-way. Accompanied the ambulance officers and my father, on a stretcher, into the hospital where we got a bit lost. Saw the specialist and then waited, and waited, and waited, for my father to be returned to the village, while everyone around us seemed to be going home. / My father’s short-term memory is gone, so telling him WHERE he was and WHY he could not “go home”. (He’ll never “go home” again.), I did at ten minute intervals. / . / Making up for the stress, was the arrival of the ambulance driver who greeted my father in Dutch!! / . / I dreaded yesterday but everything was somehow less drawn-out and cold-blooded…. (“This medication WILL kill your father”, the doctor assured me. “He’s wearing a pad. Isn’t he?” the nurse/sister said, to explain why he couldn’t be made more comfortable.) / . / Yesterday, while sitting beside my father and waiting, I took out my mobile phone and took his picture, sending it to my computer. / He had his eyes closed. / It made it look as though the medication had already done its work. / . / When my father was returned to his room, in the village, the staff member who looked after him straight-away, welcomed him back; reassured him; called him “Sweetie”. / (My father was always the ‘foreman’, the ‘club president’, a leader. Hearing him being called: sweetie, seemed so out of place. / But I understand why: My father is making a particular point of thanking everyone who comes near him; reaching out to them, wanting to please them. / . / So here I am, telling this to my Apple Mac Mini and you, up very early the next morning and addicted to the computer and the internet. / . / There is no reason why I cannot go to Melbourne on the twelfth of August. My father is in good care. It all just seems like a lot needs to be done, to join the people who may come to this launch. / Unfortunately, having watched the comedy series: Black Books, on ABC TV, I am picturing myself going through a lot of trouble, to, once again, step out of my comfort-zone a bit. (I should look up: Readings Book Store, on the www. I’m probably doing them a disservice.) / . / So, ‘dear diary’ / ‘redbubble journal’, thank you for letting me put my thoughts, here, “on paper”. / Now! What am I going to DO about it?!?