Eureka! (I am as large as the city, I am larger than you)

kenni: lower case k, i not y

My cat kenni died on Friday 20 January.  It was a fateful day - Donald Trump was sworn in as POTUS and a man using his car as a lethal weapon plowed into a busy street in Melbourne killing 5 people, a 6th dying a week later in hospital.  kenni, lying on the front porch just after 1 pm took one last visible breath as I sat beside her, stroking her lightly into this passing away.  My partner Melinda sat beside me reading a Tibetan prayer:

'As I leave this compound body of flesh and blood

I will know it to be a transitory illusion' 

Padmasambhava, Tibetan Book of the Dead

kenni and I had been together for 18 years, the longest relationship in my life.  She was born in East St Kilda in a tiny shed.  The runt of the litter, her brothers and sisters had been claimed the day before I turned up to take the only one left.  It was a tough separation, she was too young to be whisked away from her mother but the elderly owners of the shed wanted to have all the kittens gone having tripped over one the year before, necessitating a hip replacement.  

She sat in the palm of my hand, a tiny tortoiseshell.  'Naughty torti's' are infamous with vets for being short fused and cantankerous.  Certainly, she was both and she lived up to her reputation.  The vet clinic had a warning on their computer system for new vets and nurses who hadn't seen her before: 'WARNING, TURNS QUICKLY'.  (kenni and I had a lot in common.)

She was a law unto herself, she never wore a collar and she wasn’t microchipped.  I never wanted to domesticate her or turn her into a pampered pet. She could come and go as she pleased, a window or a cat door always open for her. 

She taught me a lot: I learned to read her, especially when she was about to launch a vicious attack using her teeth and claws to extract quite substantial amounts of blood.  But as the years passed she mellowed, spending a lot more time on my bed, following me around the house and eventually, beyond all belief, she'd sleep on me at night.  

I'd started reading The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying last year, and in retrospect it was prescient.  As a practicing Buddhist I had always wondered how I would approach her death and the precept I hold not to kill.  When I took her to the vets for the last time I knew before the blood tests came back confirming chronic kidney failure, that she was dying.  

I spoke to her vet about the options given my wish not to euthanise, and while I didn't want to put her down, I didn't want her in pain either.  She was prescribed morphine which I administered once a day, and twice in the last 24 hours.  In the last week she parked herself in the front garden during the day, soaking up the sun, zonked out on meds, safe in her home.  It was heartbreaking watching her deterioration but she was home, and each night she slept on me for longer, finally nestling under my chin.

The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying taught me what I already knew innately about death - that it is terrifying unless you face it, and, not to let your own grief overwhelm the dying.  Do all you can to make them peaceful, so, no wringing of hands or wailing in the streets.  I remember a monk several years ago advising us that death is not the time for those of us with troubled and unresolved relationships, especially with close family, to set the record straight.

Whether you are a Buddhist or not this is sound advice.

I miss you, my friend.

unpublished

a selection of unpublished poems streamed through word cloud.  clear predominance of the word like.  no one wonder they remain unpublished.

for Alain @oceanpacific0

Sunday afternoon

July, mid winter.  darkness hugs the car as it rounds the sprawling cemetery where so many lie, this close to the city.  with all their paraphernalia - dead flowers, cracked vases, faded portraits.  a great sea of stone.  architectural, the way we codify the dead and shut the living out.  ghosts flicker in the wing mirror of passing cars, eyes stay fixed ahead - we miss them.  further on, out towards the park the traffic's tail, red eyes click on, and off.  play follow the leader all the way to Mass at five o’clock.

lights glow, warm against the dark and cold.  a coming home, and, to a death inside.  not mine, not yet, but death always threatening.  'what rough beast, its hour come round at last'.  Yeats, surely a revelation is at hand?  some births loom large, present in their absence, and without a name.  they don't cleave to this life.  Buddhists call it karma, and wonder why we celebrate birthdays when they return us to suffering.  it's more powerful to imagine what might have been, than to live with the very ordinary weight.  of this life

--Amanda Surrey

ds the sprawling cemetery

where so many lie, this close to the city. with al

l their paraphernalia - dead

flowers, cracked vases, faded portraits. a great s

ea of stone. architectural,

the way we codify the dead and shut the living out.

ghosts flicker in the wing

mirror of passing cars, eyes stay fixed ahead - we

miss them. further on, out

towards the park the traffic's tail, red eyes click

on, and off. play follow the

leader all the way to Mass at five o

’

clock.

lights glow, warm against the dark and cold. a com

ing home, and, to a death

inside. not mine, not yet, but death always threat

ening. 'what rough beast, its

hour come round at last'. Yeats, surely a revelati

on is at hand? some births

loom large, present in their absence, and without a

name. they don't cleave

to this life. Buddhists call it karma, and wonder

why we celebrate birthdays

when they return us to suffering. it's more powerf

ul to imagine what might

have been, than to live with the very ordinary weig

ht. of this life

#ALLA2016conf, Day 2

Day 2 of #ALLA2016conf kicked off with a discussion on social media and blogging. Michelle De Aizpurua from Monash University's Law Library and Andrea Gilbey at Oxford University Press graciously stepped into a last minute withdrawal from the programme.  They reminded us that our mobile world is not bound by geography, and that blogging is not academic writing - it should be conversational, personal and short, especially for 'Gen 140 characters'.

I turned up ten minutes late after grabbing a much needed latte from Mr Tulk cafe, just next door to the conference venue.  Augustus Henry Tulk was the State Library of Victoria's first librarian, chosen from a short list of 48 applicants in 1856.  48 seems like a huge number, even then, and I wonder what Mr Tulk would have thought of a journalist heading up the State Library, breaking down prosaic notions of professional roles.  For more on this I recommend reading Richard Susskind's The Future of the Professions.

The words which stood out on Day 2 of #ALLA2016conf were analytics, actionable intelligence, business intelligence, partnerships, demonstrating value, and, incandescent rage.  Karen Rowe-Nurse spoke from the heart about managing in today's multigenerational organisations and highlighted the importance of building a good rapport with your boss; approaching management as a state of mutual dependence; and to avoid sending emails with the following words: 'the answer is just no'.  In the heat of engagement we sometimes need to take a deep breath and walk away from the keyboard.  I'm no exception.

Client Current Awareness in an Online World was a panel presentation from Herbert Smith Freehills, Allens and Manzama, who utilise news aggregation and content intelligence to deliver personalised results to clients.  Manzama are now focusing on the next wave of delivery around predictive analysis: being able to proactively spot events in the future, a kind of clairvoyance we could all use in our own professional lives.  A session from King Wood & Mallesons on business and industry intelligence providing another reminder that both lawyers and law librarians need to be agile to client needs and think creatively about how to source and present information, and structure that information delivery using smart templates.

The afternoon provided an absorbing range of legal topics.  Helen Edney, the Library and Information Manager at Northern Territories' Legal Aid walked us through their Crime Wiki, and, discussed how she was able to demonstrate the financial value of their services by cost benefit analysis.  The theme of partnerships with commercial publishers was picked up again by the librarians at the Supreme Court Library in Queensland who discussed providing a suite of online services to their large group of stakeholders.

Junior Browne from the University of the West Indies, in charge of the Faculty Law Library started with a cricket analogy which reminded me of a similar Richard Susskind quote, we can all learn from elite athletes - playing forward rather than defensively.  Junior walked us through Carilaw and the collection of Commonwealth Caribbean primary legal materials.  The afternoons session rounding out with a chilling discussion of data retention and privacy in the digital era from Jason Bosland at the University of Melbourne and the editor of the investigative unit at the Age, Michael Bachelard.  Papers from the conference will be available soon online, and a selection will appear in the ALL Journal, worth following up.

Conferences, they take it out of you.  All that networking, listening, note taking, and, all that worrying - am I strategic enough?  Have I flagged all these issues?  Where can I find out more?  Should I start playing computer games? Did you see the orange water bottle from Thomson Reuters?  Which publisher is giving away the Lindt chocolates?  If attending a conference can feel like 5 days work compressed into 2, convening a conference is a very large task and Veryan Croggon, Leanne Whykes and their committee made this look, from the outside, effortless.  Well done, and thank you, it was a stimulating, thought provoking 2 days.

#ALLA2016conf, Day 1

I'm sitting in the State Library of Victoria's Helen Macpherson Smith Genealogy Centre, the outside walls of the old library form the inside of this more recent wing, in between sessions at Day 1 of ALLA's (for the uninitiated, the Australian Law Librarians Association) biannual conference.  A university student sits at the table we share receiving instruction from her tutor, pouring over physics conundrums together. Their formulas distract me as I gather my thoughts to write this, but they also offer a perfect illustration of some of the themes teased out today: disruption, hybrid learning, STEM/STEAM curriculum, gamification, collaboration and creativity.

Rose Hiscock, the inaugural Director at the Science Gallery Melbourne, gave the opening keynote address and spoke about, amongst other things, collapsing a topic. Take climate change for instance, is there a more innovative and compelling way for scientists, in collaboration with artists to tell that story and engage the population? And what happens when we stop paying attention to what's happening around us? The team from Directioneering, an executive career strategy firm who can reengineer your resume and revamp your LinkedIn profiles, quoted a CEDA report which estimated that 40% of current jobs will be replaced by computers in 10-15 years time.

#ODEAR

Somewhere in the middle of these propositions and challenges from the podium a Panda bear danced at the back of the auditorium offering its own unique contribution to disruption, distracting the speaker momentarily, and offering some clever marketing from one of the publishers (see #jadedpanda).

It's worth noting that the fifth speaker of the day would be the first to speak specifically on a legal library topic, on implementing a legal research skills programme at the University of Canterbury.  Clare O'Dwyer, an earlier speaker talked about her move to Vietnam to head up Library Services at RMIT University's campus, but this was more in the line of directioneering and reingineering careers.

I have my own personal career advisor, someone who keeps me pointing in the right direction and anticipating a future now, my 12 year old nephew Cole.  Shortly I'll leave this wonderful building, the State Library of Victoria, inspiration to generations of Australian writers, researchers and students, and battle my way through the crowd outside glued to Pokemon Go, and head off to conference drinks at the old Melbourne Goal.  See you tomorrow

Paraire Tapu - Good Friday

1.  we arrive outside the door, to a small basket of ferns and Holy Water cupped in porcelain.  fingers in, a soggy hieroglyph traced on foreheads already bent towards the altar, push open heavy doors.  the ferns remind me of home more than Palm Sunday, and home of the book I'm reading, Tangi, by Witi Tame Ihimaera.  the story of a fathers death, a sons gaping grief.  death as betrayal, a final leaving behind.  "Eloi Eloi lama sabachthani?"  the book weaves into this moment, leavens it.  we move inside

2.  most of the seats are taken.  my friend with me, we walk to the front, past my usual seat guarded by the stations and the heater high up on the wall.  I hope she'll feel welcome, not estranged as the hour unravels.  by the sequence, the movements,  the words which enfold us.  make the sum of us, one.  this is my body

3.  the word in Maori is Paraire Tapu, and I wonder, why is Good Friday good?  It’s stripped back in here.  the flowers, the altar cloth, all the ornaments are gone.  an empty tomb.  bereft, and strangely comforting.  there is an absence today which allows something else in.  the singing starts, we rise to our feet.  holding a single sheet of paper which rustles in many hands.  should I sing?  if I sing, will my voice rise?  will it climb.  then drift away

4.  Aranga – arise now.  we shuffle, pass a thumb over forehead, lips, and heart.  a kid starts whining, I loose the thread of John.  the light is warm through the window, it comes from far away.  this story has no beginning, told in fourteen chapters with an ending we already know.  the denunciation always rattles me.  would I have had the courage to speak my heart?  do I have the courage, even now?  take this, all of you

5.  he will come back, and so will the flowers, the altar cloth and ornaments

6.  we look at each other

7.  and smile

--Amanda Surrey