Scuba, Latch
I grew up in Preston, a small suburb located approximately fifteen minutes to the north of the Melbourne central business district for the first eighteen years of my life. Things happened: my parents divorced, my grandmother passed away, the house I spent my entire childhood in was sold and my parents both moved out to their own little apartments, far far away. It's been two years and I still miss Preston with a burning fever. Preston is by no means a beautiful or affluent suburb - filled with abandoned lots, barbed-wire and huge, intimidating factories and run-down shopping strips as opposed to well-kept lawns and beautiful houses.
And that is why I miss it so much. All the hours spent wandering around the suburbs late at night, unable to sleep with an iPod to keep me company taught me to appreciate the beauty inherent in urban environments. It's an interesting juxtaposition: even in the discarded cans of Coke crushed into gutters and the blur of headlights along roads amongst stretches of concrete and steel are signs of movement and life. A bird taking flight from a razor-wire fence, the flood of lights switching on as a security system activates itself. It's a study in constrasts that's always fascinated and inspired me.
Miss you, 3072.
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