Sweet Candy

The show went well. Sugar-sweet & high camp, with a few requisite fuck-ups that everyone in the audience swore they didn't notice. We did Iggy Pop's Candy, which was like revisiting my Shirley Temple Good Ship Lollypop character a few decades later, with a hint of dark & bitter to go with all the sugar.

The photo above was taken out later on Oxford St, wearing a good deal more clothing than I wore onstage but with the same wig & eyelashes. You can see the line of grubby spirit gum across my chest where raspberry candies were glued for the show- those glue marks were all over my body til I scrubbed them off with nail-polish remover.

The card deck we were launching looks amazing. If you can get your hands on the 52 Pick-Up Truck-Stop Playing Cards, do it. It makes me so proud to be part of a community that produces these things. My card is 3 of Spades, me doing butch, grubby hands, hard-hat and workboots, with two gorgeous diner waitresses. "Told you I can do butch", I said, trying to look convincingly tough in a sparkly pink wig and suspender belt.

On Monday I rode my bike all the way to Sydney Park, a good 2.5km from home, which is by far my biggest bicycle outing to date. The freedom of it is amazing, and to be so early in the process of learning is quite wonderful: every hour I spend doing it, my skill level rises so far beyond what it was when that hour began. A steep learning curve can be a beautiful thing, I am discovering.This is my bike, fixed up by me. Isn't she pretty, all out and adventuring in the world?