Did you pick us out of the crowd?

I had a haystack of hair in 1974 and Louisa looked as sunny and appealing as always. We lived in shearers’ quarters on “Kialami”, on the Boorolong Road outside Armidale in northern New South Wales. I was doing my Honours year in history and Louisa was in her third year of Agricultural Economics. I spent more time playing in the band with my brother Stephen (the tall blonde haystack) and Mick Porter (the guy with the girl with the dog). Mick had arrived earlier in the year with rock band Cold Chisel who camped in our house for a month or so. Mick was their roadie, but they kicked him out because he liked Jackson Browne. Chisel was a hard-driving, blues and soul based prototype punk band. They had many hits in Australia and their lead singer Jimmy Barnes went on to a highly successful career as Australia’s premier rock screamer.
Though it was exciting to be living with a guy in a band, Louisa was not getting the love or attention she needed. I was a self-centred prick and treated her like she was an accessory. I am blessed that she stayed as long as she did. The left me once in 1974, moving into town to stay with her friend Marlene. I was glad to see her go at the outset. But very quickly I discovered she had taken my heart with her. All I had was this bloody gaping wound in my chest. She returned, but we moved into town, to Mann Street… and even more pain and separation as she found other boys to play with. I was a fool. I could have avoided all the angst had I read the book. But the agony was an important part of my learning, preparing me to write the book. It's great to have the past's seemingly futile pain justified and understood in terms of the soul's journey towards self awareness. Sounds heavy, but it's not. It's lighter than light.