I was drawing at a sidewalk cafe table during lunch yesterday and suddenly realised I was in Penny Lane. Or the Truman Show, I’m not sure which.
I was up in the Adelaide Hills, in a small town where my work has an office. I love going there — I can walk to any of a few small cafés for a decent coffee or some cheap / good lunch.
Yesterday there was a video crew filming from the sidewalk near the cafe. I looked around to see what they were shooting, and it was nothing, as far as I could see.
I mean, it’s a idyllic little main street. But then I realised how busy the place is for a small town. People are always out walking, eating, walking dogs. Pretty trees shade the one-way street, and the parking spots are always full. Traffic moves calmly. The fireman rushes in from the pouring rain, yadda yadda.
It’s eerily close to perfect.
Not long after this crossed my mind, a busker wandered up and politely offered some other sidewalk diners a choice from his “song menu” (what a good idea!). He played The ABC Song for a toddler at the table and Paul Kelly for the parents.
I finished lunch (and sketching) before I had a chance, but he caught up with me a few minutes later over the road at my favourite local coffee spot. So, I picked out a tune (but restrained myself from adding harmonies) and read his pleasant personal manifesto while he played:
A desire to find balance on the tightrope of ego and expression led him to forgo normalcy for the nomadic. Roaming throughout Australia he chooses transformation and expression over possessions and attachment.
You can’t escape the idyll here. Very strange.