All about Alex

Alex took to computers like cats take to mice; he could never get enough and was ever searching for the next possibility. Would I be mean to report that at three-and-a-bit he twice crashed my computer; once by adding multitudinous goldfish bowls to a puzzle in "The Incredible Machine", and once by enfonting a Word document with a point size about a hundred times as big as the biggest offered?

Whatever, he quickly developed enough skills to capture an alert box and alter the text.

Reading and writing

Alex quickly came to love the written word, as both a reader and a writer. At two and a half he was frustrated by staring hard at a page in a story book and finding that "It doesn't work!"

I showed him how to "make it work", starting—as was at that time considered old-fashioned and altogether the wrong way—with the sounds of letters and letter combinations. Soon we progressed to "The Young Australia Readers"—also out-dated and frowned upon—and within a short time he was reading independently, although he still loved his bedtime story from Mum.

Although he's always been happy to dispose of unwearable clothing and old video games, his books seem to be non-disposable. From Ladybirds through to Tolkien and beyond, any suggestion that some might be in excess meets with a quiet, "Mm".

When he was four, Alex wrote a letter to the "Green Guide", our newspaper's TV section, complaining that his favourite program had been set aside so that parliament could be broadcast. His mother thought the letter worth sending, it was published, and our local member, showing kindness and understanding, awarded him a Parliamentary Medal.

Alex's writing skills proceeded apace, and when he was ten years old he wrote "The Sea Dragon's Song".

The Sea Dragon’s Song

The sea dragon was lonely.

When he sang, he was answered only by the indifferent gaze of the moon,
and when he twisted sinuously through the depths,
no dragons came to join him.

He sang to the silences of his sadness,
his loneliness, his despair,
all forged from the smithy of thousands of years of solitude.

He sang of his rejection by the fishes and the whales, his den so cold at night,
deep under the sea floor, in a swimming pool sized burrow that had been his home for many millennia.

He sang of his times when his songs had been answered,
and his longing for just this form of companionship.

He sang of his aching desire to be answered.

He sang until he could sing no more,
until his beautiful melodies became
harsh, guttural, croaking sounds.

He sang until the sun lifted, and then
he twisted down through the water,
through the kelp forest, and down the deep trench.

He raised himself to the surface,
and let loose one final, hopeless, guttural sound, and then stared at the dawn,
until the sun lit the sky, and he dove down to his burrow.

He slept.

He slept through the day, and barely stirred through the whole time the sun was up.

He woke, and broke the surface of the water.

He sang.

He sang to the moon, cold and indifferent though it was
he sang to the sky, as it looked down on all.

He sang.

He sang, and was answered.

He sang to the female and she sang to him, and their voices mingled in a harmony more beautiful than any orchestra ever could even contemplate.

They sang to each other as they sliced through the water like long white knives.

They sang to the moon, not caring that it was cold and indifferent.

They sang to the silence, and their voices filled it with love and velvety warmth.

They sang, because so long had they been alone, hope had been nearly given up.

They sang, because they were there, and it could be done.

They twisted through the kelp forests,
intertwining with each other.

They sang for joy, for happiness.

They sang, for singing.

© Alex Pappas Thursday, 29 August 2002

Painting and drawing

Although as a little boy he enjoyed painting both at home and at school and used colour freely in computer pictures, when slightly older Alex spent more time with just a soft pencil. We saw monsters, dragons, aliens, princes and princesses and intricate, detailed maps.

Science

Alex was very lucky in that his primary school strongly encouraged the interests of individual children and never held any child back because of his or her age. The school takes an active part in special science projects, including the national Solar Boat Challenge, which leads children to use both their knowledge and their creativity and also to consider better ways of producing energy.

Science theory is also very strong. The New South Wales Science Competition is looked forward to with pleasure and results are excellent. In his grade six year Alex and six of his fellow students achieved high distinctions.

Many others did almost as well, and the whole school community was well pleased.

Karate

Uncle Evan, himself an instructor, introduced Alex to karate lessons when he was eight years old. If my memory serves me well, the highpoint of those lessons was eating a pie with Uncle Evan before returning home. Uncle Evan went to Japan for a year and Alex's interest waned for a time, but became real and earnest at about the time he started high school

The picture on the right was taken during blue belt grading in September 2004. The karate school wisely makes an informed assessment of each student before a grading takes place and then recommends that she or he does present for grading or waits a little longer.

Karate is a fine activity, since it encourages the growth of the whole person; as well as developing skills germane to the art, the student is expected to exhibit compassion and fairness in daily life and to carry out everyday family tasks.