I need to write about the digital storytelling workshop I just finished, working with both young and very much older people on stories about the history of the Kelvin Grove Urban Village (most of which used to be a bloody big army parade ground). I also need to write about the CSAA conference, which has left quite a glow on me, and where I sensed a seismic shift away from distanced, black skivvy critique, and towards a renewal of genuine engagement and non-cynical pragmatism.

But it’s RAINING…after days of heat that feels like a solid, malevolent presence, sitting on your head, making you squint and gasp for air, finally the thunder is rolling, and there are sheets of cool water pouring onto the roof. I feel like running into the street, sinking to my knees and drinking it in…I’ve done that before but become quite rightly scared of the threat of being struck by lightning. How ironic that would be (in an Alanis sense, although slightly more so than a fly in your chardonnay) – an extremely rare moment of prayer cut short by the most cliched death in the Bible.

Apparently I should also have the computer turned off and unplugged.