 | This is the path up to the front gate at the moment. I did warn you about the fucking heinous vulgarity of my DGAF gardening; behold the fruits of the happening. And I know I write about this bloody clematis montana vine every damn year but you would too if you had three tonnes of fruity pink monster waiting to pound your head with the glorious stink of musk lollies and clover honey every time you left the house. This year the variegated Japanese Honeysuckle is showing its thug colours and trying for domination of the gate-end rock wall; one day we'll probably find ourselves confined to the front yard by these vegetal krakens but oh well. The smell on a warm, humid morning can be detected from about half a click down the road and makes you feel as though you're swimming through syrup. I haven't seen much raving about the scent of c. montana online so I don't know if you northern peeps get the full effect; come to think of it, this is one of the smelliest examples I can remember round these parts too. Maybe it's a particular clone. |
Another notable emergence is the full-banana version of Brugmansia sanguina, the Red Angel's Trumpet (below) that we are lucky enough to be able to grow here. I took a root cutting from the backyard of a flat we were renovating for someone and this is the first decent flower.
| You can see the orange/red species in the far right of the header image. This clear golden yellow guy > is a rare variant but just as sturdy as its bicoloured sibling, once established. Up close, the blooms look as though they are cut from silk shantung. I may have said this before too, but don't try tripping on datura, kids. It's nasty, dangerous shit, can cause brain and liver damage and is no fun at all. If it's an organic psychoactive experience you're after, look into some psilocybin, seriously. It's been a really distracted, fragmenty week full of frustrating stop-starts and fucking nothing's getting done- moist and overcast and full of premature xmas advertising and pointless interruption. There's always some point during a change of season when I feel inches away from ripping off my clothes and running screaming obscenely, probably in Cantonese, down the road with sparklers fizzing in (almost) every orifice. Atmospheric pressure or some shit like that, probably. I'm also in the middle of a sewing and alteration orgy, always a heavy contributor to mental instability; doing the handwork sitting in bed at night means I wake up every morning with tiny sequins stuck to the side of my face. And other areas. |  < I don't know the Jezebels beyond the fact that they're Australian (it's not their fault) and this one EP but A Little Piece is a great song; dope vocals, drums and guitar. No idea what's coming at you this week. Brace for impact. |
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