I was not an athletic teenager. I did enjoy riding my bike and skateboarding and did a fair amount of walking but I was not drawn to after school sports. I was a rebellious teen and found it particularly difficult to obey and bow down to figures of authority who were not worthy of my respect. Some teachers were decent, some were good - no problem. But there were a few of them with serious issues and a predilection for dogmatic and dictatorial behaviour - essentially bullies. These few individuals caused me a lot of trouble and heartache when I would refuse to accept and follow their unfair rules and policies. This caused a rift between myself and my parents - who by default sided with the teachers. So, due to this, plus being physically bullied by upper classmen who found my strong will and caustic asides to be something they could only deal with through brutality - I became somewhat marginalised. I would comfort myself with delicious snacks - Japan has splendid and uniquely delightful confectionary and baked goods! And so - chubby teen. Not obese - just pudgy and out of shape.

But it was a problem. It compounded already existing emotional challenges - the kind that we all experience from 13 to 17 or 18. I didn't feel great about myself, I hated school, I was being bullied, I did not feel loved or supported by my folks... thank goodness there was no facebook or blogs back then - or everyone would have been reading about it. It wasn't all bad, of course. I had two great brothers, a handful of excellent, fun loving friends and as it does, time moved on and the hormones subsided, I got older and wiser.

At 19 I was in my first year of art school back in Australia and starting to sort things out. I read books on spirituality and philosophy. I wanted to work out the meaning of life. I wanted to find my purpose and place and come to some understanding of the nature of being. I felt a need to define my own standards of living. It didn't take long before I realised that eating meat was not something I was comfortable with. If we lived out in the wild, I acknowledged, I would never slaughter a cow or a pig or even a chicken for it's flesh. It's just not something I would consider. I would forage for fauna and eat fruits and vegetables. It seemed natural to me. And nuts. So, I cut out all meats. Then, before long, I stopped eating dairy or any kind. I became a vegan. I was also doing long runs in the evenings and swimming. I lost all my chubbiness and became slender and sinewy. I was living on just fruit and veges and nuts. Then I cut out veges. I am not sure why. Streamlining. Then I stopped eating fruit as well. In the end I was just eating raw nuts. Two small containers worth per day. I think I was high on being so light and eating so little. I could run so easily and quite a distance, too.

When I returned to Japan to visit my family, my Mum immediately started crying when she saw me. She was so worried by my new svelte (gaunt) appearance. I refused to eat anything but the raw nuts. But it was harder to do in Japan and eventually I ate a few bits of fruit and veg. When I came back to Australia I went to see a psychiatrist would informed me that I had the early stages of anorexia nervosa. He made me look in the mirror and pointed out my protruding ribs. Not good, he said. Not normal. And my weight - 59kgs. Not enough. (I have been more than double this weight since then, at my heaviest. My optimum weight is around 90kgs.) So, anyway, it made sense. I had gone too far. I started eating - and enjoying - fruit and veges and grains again. Being a regular vego.

In those days, though, in Australia in the 80's - it wasn't normal. I was an art student so normal didn't matter - but for at least a decade there was always a bit of a kerfuffle at restaurants or at people's houses for dinner. 'No meat? None at all? What about sausages? Chicken? Chicken must be alright, then, eh?' Er, no. 

So for the next thirty years I was a vegetarian. Then, around fifty I was tempted by a foodie girlfriend who fancied herself as a bit of chef to have 'one little taste' of her beef cheeks stew. I resisted. But, of course, it was futile. One bite led to another. Then a small bowlful. Over the next year or two the floodgates opened and I sampled all the meaty delectables I had denied myself for so long - bacon, BBQ lamb and sausages, chicken, hamburgers.... 

Eventually, I realised it was time to return to my natural tendencies. I became a vego again. I will sometimes eat seafood but not very often. Some tuna in a salad or sushi a few times a year as a treat - but that's it. It just feels cleaner and healthier. I am glad I took that break, the foray into full carnivore territory, because it's made coming back to eating just things that grow, nothing that has to be killed, something I appreciate and respect even more.

Back about eight years ago when I was directing a documentary about Bay FM called Bliss Jockeys, I did a little contra side job. My camera man and I were to film William Whitecloud give a talk about his system and beliefs. It was a no fee job, negotiated by my long time lovely friend, Claire, but in exchange I got to attend a four day seminar in Brisbane called 'The Magician's Way.'

Previous to that I'd done a handful of other self help/self realisation seminars - 'Insight' and 'The Forum' spring to mind - and had found them to be beneficial (in their own way). So, as Claire often espoused the benefits of TMW and was actually in training to lead herself, I figured why not.

I was invited to stay the three or four nights in a spare room at one of the generous trainees. Each morning before showing up at the function centre, I'd go for a stretch and swim at the local pool. Generally, I was in a good head space at that time, so I was open and receptive to whatever may shift, any changes in perspective, broadening of outlook.

There was a lot of great stuff in the seminar over the two days and four nights. I found it engaging and beneficial. One of the best exercises - and the reason behind this rant - was one in which we sat in an arrangement of four chairs facing a single one in a semi-circle. One at a time, we would sit in that chair and say just two words: 'I am.' The other four would then respond to the simple statement and tell what they got from that - about who you were, how you feel, where you are at in your life, etc....

Well. It was amazing. I will never forget just how accurate and on pace everyone (all strangers to each other) was. It exemplified just how deeply we all comprehend things about each other and how clearly we see each other.

Thing is, in everyday life, all that is mostly subliminated for reasons of etiquette and normal surface level interaction. 

We all know how normal it is for ourselves to perceive others in a complex and comprehensive way but we tend to kind of assume that people looking at us aren't really taking much in. The truth is we are all extremely attuned to human nature and individual personality. From just two words, the feedback was gobsmakingly astounding. We underestimate each other. And, to a degree, ourselves.

My point, and the reason for writing this piece is to do with the connection between what I am writing and what the reader is receiving. I sometimes worry about a gap. But then I realise. No. It's cool. We all read between the lines. We all pick up on nuances and read into every minute choice a writer makes with words, phrasing, energy aligment. I don't need to worry. Just put it out there. Just say, "I am," and people will hear you as you are. 

And part of that is the point. It's something we love to do. Share ourselves with each other. In all sorts of ways. And the more real, the deeper, the more passionate, the more raw and pure; the better. Each of us is connected deeply. And we need each other more than we know.

I created my art website three or four years ago and have slowly built it up. There is no one-button-sale process integrated into it, so it's been more of a viewing space than a sales producing site. 

Two years ago now I realised that I could write a blog and have it attached; so I began. Tentative and sporadic at first, after a few months I started to get into the swing of things. Now it has become an important part of my artistic life. Once or twice a week I check in and spill the beans - or plant the beans. Whatever is going on in my life, in my mind, in my world gets a summation and commentary. I am pretty casual about it but focused when I get a post started. My aim is to be free flowing, honest and playful. For me there would be no point in recording anything other than something that is 100% authentic. I want to represent who I am and where I am at when I decide to express it. Later, I can look back and it will be an accurate road map of my headspace journey.

I like the way each short narrative is a building block. I am not sure what the structure will look like when it nears completion. I just keep going, focusing on the quality and placement of each new brick.

Which reminds me...

In the mid eighties, some creative friends were part of a casual group called 'The Spiritual Bricks Society'. We had a gold (yellow) painted brick and placed it in a visible spot at each of our regular gatherings. There was no real agenda or rituals involved - it was pretty much just a group of like minded, arty individuals and their friends convening to enjoy conversation, drugs and alcohol. We also took part in a group art show called 'God's Favourite Artists' held at the Bondi Pavillion Gallery. The main core of the group are still my friends today. I don't see them very often but the connection is strong and positive. 

Some things I have done for a long time:

Written poetry
Stayed up late
Slept in late
Gone to the beach
Felt deeply
Tried to sublimate 
Loved laughing
Loved good writing
Loved movies
Loved women
(this is not in order of ranking, ladies)

I was going to write more on that list but now I have been distracted. Just by mentioning women. Ah. How they delight and confound. 

In some ways, being older, and having extracted myself - or have I been exiled? - from the romance game(s), I have opened up a lot of space and time for other pursuits. 

Namely; being free. And I must say, it's pretty good, actually. As Larry David would say, "pretty, pretty good." I sleep in till I wake naturally, I go for long walks on the beach, I play cards most nights with the lads, I rarely tidy up, I go where I want, leave when I'm ready...

The list goes on. Am I trying to justify how much better it is? Am I convincing myself? Hmmm.... not sure.

Anyway, like Stalin always said, "You work with what you've got." ("Until we take it from you," was the second part.)

Gotta say: LOL

If you could only ever say one thing
What would it be?

Give a definition of yourself 
In ten years or less

Show how much you care
By doing nothing they expect

Throw caution to the wind
Then catch a bus home

You've forgotten where you live
But you still have your phone

Call a friend and let them know
You're lost inside

There is no answer
Quite like silence
No consolation
For never showing up

It's a fight from the start
And then it gets harder
A flight from the heart
And then you get higher

Stand up for yourself
So that you don't have to lie
Your whole life

Wake 
Wake
If you can stand it
It's tomorrow
It's tomorrow

You'll be OK
Just go back to sleep
Don't go back to sleep

If you only had one chance
When would you take it?

You have ..... chances
Fill in the blank
With invisible ink
Sign you life away
So you need not stop and think

Wait
Wait
It's almost now

You're chances are fading
Have you read your own speech?
Everyone is saying
It's really quite amazing

But you have to believe
First
You have to believe
The worst
Is over

This is just the beginning
It's morning

That sunshine equals love
That sunshine in your eyes
That equals love

That sunshine is your face

First feel it
Feel it
Feel it
First

OK
Now
Suddenly now
Just imagine
You're awake


*

There's no point in writing something if it doesn't mean anything or lead anywhere.

Right?

But wait. Who is to say what has meaning and what doesn't? And who knows where certain paths will lead if one is not bold or foolhardy enough to embark down them without prior knowledge of their end point?

OK. So the first statement is untrue. 

Good. I have made a statement and then contradicted it immediately. 

Drama.

Life is made up of drama. We need drama. We seek drama. We are addicted to drama.

What's another word for drama? 

Conflict.

What is it that draws us to observing - and becoming involved in - conflict?

Conflict is the pairing of two opposing forces against each other in battle until there is one winner or at least a resolution.

So there is struggle, intensity, anticipation, anxiety, stress, entanglement and friction.... and this builds and builds.... until it is resolved.

And this resolution is extremely satisfying. It is indisputable. There is a victor and a loser. One side wins, the other concedes - by choice or through being overpowered. And with the all the emotions and entanglements that it evoked are calmed and dissipated.  

And that process - the process - is about throwing things in the air/in the blender/in the water - and seeing what will happen. 

It's letting destiny take it's course. It's creating an event. It's an experiment, a test, a trial.

And, we, as humans, love that shit. We can't get enough.

Relationships, sports, combat, war, racing.... all that stuff. All the same thing.

Dynamic existence. Growth through conflict. Evolution through engagement.

It's part of our make up. Our DNA. Drama Now Already! We are all calling out for consciously or subconsciously.

So, what am I saying? Why am I writing about this in my art blog?

Well, as pacifist and a generally serene individual I tend to believe that I try to avoid drama. And I do. But lately I have come to realise that is completely unavoidable.

It will find you. No matter what. 

Not only that but as soon as one thing is resolved and put to bed, another will jump up in it's place. This is true even in the most peaceful and simple lifestyles. 

I am writing about it because I have been observing it in my daily life over the last few months and thinking about it... trying to come to terms with it.

My goal is/was to try and make my life as 'undisturbed' and 'undisturbing' as possible - so that I can concentrate on creating new things as well as just enjoying simple living. But there is so much that is beyond one's control. And the potential conflicts are never ending. 

Every time you venture out. When you stay at home. A comment from someone. A stranger's voice or laugh or choice of conversation at the cafe. Some one on their mobile in the library. Selfish dog walkers on the beach not respecting the rules.... etc, etc...

Aaaghhhrrr! Sometimes I want to scream. And I consider myself to be pretty mellow. Am I hyper sensitive? What's going on? 

So, I have realised now - it will never end. There will always be irritations. Conflict. Challenge. There is absolutely no escape. To wish for it is futile. Some things cannot be changed. 

What's needed is patience, acceptance, surrender. And more than ever. At times I even consider getting involved in the demanding lifestyle of mainstream society again... if it's going to be difficult anyway - why not jump back in the deep end and go back to hand-to-hand combat?

But, no. It's not for me. I'll stick with the monsters I know. The ones I create. The ones I meet by chance. The ones that surprise me. I'll keep dealing with them - as I live day to day in my artist's way - writing, making art, conjuring up plays, TV series ideas, movies, comics - as I sit in the local cafe or walk along the sandy shore or retreat to the sanctuary of my bedroom in the share house I'm in. 

Bring it on, I say. I've got this far ...on the road to nowhere. I've dealt with what has come and I'll deal with what's to be. Like us all. We just keep fighting new monsters.