online: 15 october 2004
modified: 15, 16 october 2004

14 october 2004 the diversity we are born to

16:42 Indoor cafe - the seats in the tea garden are too damp to sit on. I'm surrounded by about 20 old people who are also avoiding the garden today though it is mild and sunny outside. White hair, bent backs, spectacles, too much body fat, and restricted movement... these visible signs of old age are what I first notice. And they also look prosperous and healthy.

Now most of the old ones have gone - they seem to be travelling together... I notice small girl reaching up to touch the hair of a man who is with her.

I much prefer to be with people of mixed ages - what is it that causes these segregations?... Specialisation, and the economic measurement of people... perhaps other factors but those are enough to split most of us into homogenised groups. I don't like it!

What would postmodern life be like if we all lived and thought and did what we do in all the diversity we are born to?... To answer such questions is perhaps my main purpose.

17:42 A seat on what I call Panorama Path, on the southern slope of Parliament Hill. From here one can see much of the inner city unobstructed by trees.

Today there is a dark blue-grey rain cloud above the west end but the air beneath and beyond it is dry and clear. To the east is a billowy cumulus cloud, pink in the sunlight that is reaching nowhere else but to some yellow-lit stratus cloud perhaps 5 thousand feet above the pink cumulus. No wind on this pathway and the rain cloud is barely moving towards the east.

The city looks so peaceful, even passive - I see no signs of those millions of lives being lived in and between and below these thousands of buildings but I hear some faint sounds of road traffic and trains and the occasional sirens of emergency vehicles...

And now a cyclist rides quickly past me - a tiny part of the life of the city but a huge event in my microspace.

Now a glass tower in docklands is lit by red sunlight ... and now it and I have moved relative to the sun and it appears suddenly black again.

Drops of rain - so I stop... and it's beginning to get dark. Yes I'm glad to get back to walking and to writing this diary after days or weeks of writing of 'the early days', past and present.

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