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Hello reader of the future.
I was born in 1971 in Cairns, Australia, and somehow over the last 38 years (it's 25 September 2009 right now, just after 21.46pm AEST) I have developed a strong sense of history. For this reason I am aware that the written word can cross the ages, enduring long after the writer has perished and turned to dust.
Of course, the mistake many make is to think that this quality - endurance - demands a sense of gravitas. It is as if the writing's potential to hang around imparts to us a moral imperative to restrict our writing to the profound or significant. This is a misconception.
Mr. Samuel Pepys understood that the diarist chronicles the mundane - that which is literally 'of the world'. This includes the profound, to be sure, but also the incidental and accidental. The big and the small.
Thus my deep feeling of love for an attractive man may be of equal value, with history's distance, as the name of my favourite French patissier (Pierrick Boyer) and the fact that I often purchase a cup of fine, organic coffee at his patisserie (Le Petit Gourmet) on Little Collins Street in Melbourne, Australia. The fact that I can see the patisserie from my living room window may also be of interest, and is due to the fact that I live in the corner apartment on the third floor (apartment 312) of the Temple Court building. The patisserie is just below me across Little Collins Street.
Temple Court's formal address is to Collins Street, and it is called such as it occupies the former site of a building (a fine sandstone Victorian era building) of the same name that was demolished so the current building could be erected in 1923. The old building, which was a barristers chambers, was called Temple Court in reference to the Temple in London, a precinct that combined with the Lincolns Inn and Grays Inn constitutes the Inns of Court, the institutions charged with the admitting members to the bar.
In a pleasing instance of symmetry, the Temple figures in Samuel Pepys' diary, as marker in the landscape of his life both geographically and as an important part of the administrative machinery of English government in the 17th Century.
So here, in Temple Court, I set for myself a Pepyssian aim (pronounced 'peepsian'), and will occasionally chronicle aspects of my life in this time capsule also known (for now) as the internet.
By the way, it is of passing interest to me that if you are reading this, you are literally from my future. How far into the future is a matter of little consequence to me, and a great deal of consequence to you.
Marcus Baumgart
Temple Court, Collins Street
Melbourne Australia
25 September 2009
22.09 AEST
I was born in 1971 in Cairns, Australia, and somehow over the last 38 years (it's 25 September 2009 right now, just after 21.46pm AEST) I have developed a strong sense of history. For this reason I am aware that the written word can cross the ages, enduring long after the writer has perished and turned to dust.
Of course, the mistake many make is to think that this quality - endurance - demands a sense of gravitas. It is as if the writing's potential to hang around imparts to us a moral imperative to restrict our writing to the profound or significant. This is a misconception.
Mr. Samuel Pepys understood that the diarist chronicles the mundane - that which is literally 'of the world'. This includes the profound, to be sure, but also the incidental and accidental. The big and the small.
Thus my deep feeling of love for an attractive man may be of equal value, with history's distance, as the name of my favourite French patissier (Pierrick Boyer) and the fact that I often purchase a cup of fine, organic coffee at his patisserie (Le Petit Gourmet) on Little Collins Street in Melbourne, Australia. The fact that I can see the patisserie from my living room window may also be of interest, and is due to the fact that I live in the corner apartment on the third floor (apartment 312) of the Temple Court building. The patisserie is just below me across Little Collins Street.
Temple Court's formal address is to Collins Street, and it is called such as it occupies the former site of a building (a fine sandstone Victorian era building) of the same name that was demolished so the current building could be erected in 1923. The old building, which was a barristers chambers, was called Temple Court in reference to the Temple in London, a precinct that combined with the Lincolns Inn and Grays Inn constitutes the Inns of Court, the institutions charged with the admitting members to the bar.
In a pleasing instance of symmetry, the Temple figures in Samuel Pepys' diary, as marker in the landscape of his life both geographically and as an important part of the administrative machinery of English government in the 17th Century.
So here, in Temple Court, I set for myself a Pepyssian aim (pronounced 'peepsian'), and will occasionally chronicle aspects of my life in this time capsule also known (for now) as the internet.
By the way, it is of passing interest to me that if you are reading this, you are literally from my future. How far into the future is a matter of little consequence to me, and a great deal of consequence to you.
Marcus Baumgart
Temple Court, Collins Street
Melbourne Australia
25 September 2009
22.09 AEST
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