In 1968 at Newcastle Teachers' College, on the old Merewether campus, there was a particularly good music appreciation teacher. One thing is bright and shiney 'til this day. He rabbited on about notes and scales and octaves and other probably relevant stuff. A bulb lit up above my noggin: well then, music is finite. Given all these inputs, there will come a day when it will be impossible to write a new piece of music. A slight smyrk appeared at the corner of his mouth, 'Well, no Julie, not quite' and on he went to explain, as he played Handel's 'Water Music'.
Colour is a bit like that. When I was a kid, I am sure this green/lime/olive had not been discovered/invented/mixed. My childhood was a ROYGBIV world.
|Powell's Building (1880), Oxford Street Paddington, opposite Victoria Barracks.|