Lewie JPD
facebook / email
  • Home
  • Love Letters To Japan
  • New Works
  • Exhibitions
  • Music
  • Blog
  • Murals
  • Manga! Pop! Paintings
  • Shirty Shirts
  • Press
  • Short Movies
    • Skull Guru
  • Mind's I comics
  • About Lewie JPD
  • Coaching & Mentoring
  • FAQ
  • Contact

Be You

17/12/2017

0 Comments

 
Picture
One of the most important things to me is to be true to myself.

Being a person is not an easy task under any circumstances, not for anyone.

We all have our own ways of dealing with life’s demands.

Bottom line is: whatever works for you.

There are always complications - as we know - and sometimes things that work, stop working. So you have to find, manufacture, adopt, invent new strategies.

That being said there are a few things that can remain in your arsenal that will always serve you.

For me one of these is to always strive to know what is going on - not to always control because that is not possible - but at least to have a good sense of where my head space is and what I think and feel about situations. Basically, to listen to my intuition, my inner wisdom and let it guide me.

This doesn’t always work, of course, and various times I have gone astray, way off track. Sometimes for years at a time. In retrospect - once I have crawled out of whatever deep, deep hole I have dug myself into - I can work out where I made the wrong turns and how I can avoid the same mistakes in the future.

A few times I have gotten so far off the track that I was lucky to make it back alive.

But such is life.

In these times I have remained true to myself but have let certain aspects become hazy, misguided, misleading.

In effect, I have slowly lead myself astray or, on some occasions, allowed myself be lead astray.

I don’t know why - it’s a gradual thing usually. Like the frog in water that gets increasingly hotter over time - too subtle to notice till it’s almost too late.

Every time I have got myself into some kind of bad place - usually either in a relationship, through substance addiction or over indulgence or through lack of sound judgement, I have had to wake up to myself and begin the long and arduous process of reversing things, turning things around through change of habits, systematic re-evaluations and reconstruction of processes. In layman’s terms: ‘Getting my fucking act together!’

This is usually difficult in the beginning but becomes increasingly easier as the efforts begin to pay off and improvements become apparent.

Looking back now my usual trigger are emotional upset, depression, boredom, loss of direction or plain old simple self delusion. Sometimes they come from an event or series of events but not always.

I have recently surmised that the best defense is prevention. Heed the early signs of decline and intervene. Easier said than done - but henceforth I vow to be increasingly vigilant - cause after a full year of recovery and disciplined self improvement - and having reached a healthy and acceptable place and energy - I realise that extreme ups and downs take their toll on the psyche and I do not wish to slip again.

Even as these ‘bad’ phases were happening, I was still aware of making the best of situations, circumstances. I am not someone who knowingly self sabotages or makes things harder for myself on purpose. This is good - but in some ways, when I am on a descending arc, it is harder to identify. ‘Things are OK’, I will tell myself. But they aren’t.

You need to be heading in the right direction in the bigger picture of things. You need purpose, self improvement though disciplined efforts, a positive vision for your future, something to work on that is rewarding and nourishing. You need to feel useful and, if possible, loved.

As someone who spends a substantial amount of time each day thinking about things, assessing, pondering, considering - when I am writing poems or stories, or cooking up new projects, working on new creative ideas or planning my life flow - I also pay attention to my impulsive thoughts and reactions to situations and my feelings about what is occurring. Watching myself be myself. Wheels within wheels. This is something I am comfortable with and have been doing for a long time. Some may say I think too much and maybe I do. But that’s just who I am. It has it’s advantages and disadvantages. I am definitely my own boss in the mind department and allow myself free rein and a lot of slack. I am not fearful and often really enjoy just going where my mind takes me. Like an adventurer. I know the pitfalls, the dangers. I have gotten lost, gone too far before and I am wary. But I do believe that I am also capable and experienced in mind journeys and confident in my abilities. Like those guys who free climb those giant peaks.

I am not showing off. It’s nothing to show off about, really. Everybody is good at some thing(s). This is one of my things.

The point I began with, though, is about veracity, authenticity. I do not like lies, untruths, misrepresentations. They cloud things, they confuse, they create fog - which leads to missteps and accidents. Truth is harmonious, it is natural, it vibrates and a satisfying and rewarding, an uplifting frequency. It’s a bench mark, an anchor, a level surface. It is where I like to be. It is where we all like to be.

Circumstance, conflicting agendas, complex human chemistry and interactions can easily push us off course, however. It is easy to get confused, become misguided. I find that by spending a large portion of my time alone, in my own counsel, allows me to avoid interference. Of course, it can’t (and shouldn’t be) avoided altogether but if you can sift through what’s presented to you and try and filter out what serves your higher purpose as much as possible - that is what you should do.

I write these thoughts, freely and without edit or censorship. I aim to express what is present as clearly and meaningfully as possible. It is rewarding for me - to write and also to re-read later, but I also do it in the hope that it will be of value to others. I do not do it for attention, praise, financial reward or any reason other than a simple and pure need and desire to express my own truth.

We all love truth. We all need truth. We also need each other. This is my way of connecting. My way of sharing. I may be a bit of an island much of the time - but I am not that far off shore to be inaccessible to mainlanders.  One of my pleasures is to return to the mainland or visit other islands and recount my solo adventures, real and imagined.

I know there are many who spend much of their time and energy on their own islands - sentient beings just like me who try and make sense of existence and deal with it in their own unique way. We are a quirky bunch, stubborn, irrational at times but our hearts are in the right place. We probably suffer more than should but what choice do we have but to follow our destinies, the paths laid out in front of us. Sound familiar? Yes, I’m talking about you. We’re the same. Similar, anyway.

And even though that does not really bring big comfort - it does make a difference. We are alone but united in our lyrical aloneness. We are harmonious notes of the same concerto.

Don’t stress, I tell myself. But fucking things keep coming at me that challenge my chill. There is no escape. But what you can do is stay true. Whatever happens. Be you.
0 Comments

Improvisational Speculation

15/7/2017

0 Comments

 
Picture
It’s morning and I’ve just woken up and I’m going to write.
People write for all different reasons.
I like to write in a free from, musical kind of way. Jazz style.
I like to improvise. Let what is there come out as it will and then build onwards from that.
Thought to thought in sequence. Sentence to sentence link.
I like to coax out my message.
Invite it for a visit.
What is it you would like to talk about today, dear subconscious?
What is floating around in there that wants to appear, be expressed?

Often I will write poems. They are a little slower than free form writing. They involve a similar flowing approach but with the rhyming involved, they tend to take turns and make unanticipated leaps. A key rhyming word at the end of a phrase will appear like an arrowed sign on a pathway - saying go this way - pointing off track - maybe towards the seaside or deeper into the forest. Poems have a magical air about them. Like you are being led by fairies, or leprechauns or some kind of local friendly beast, perhaps beckoned by a shaman. They involve trust and a sense of curiosity. A bit of courage. You are being led somewhere new - so you follow.

The reason I write, primarily, is self discovery. I want to allow my voice, the one beyond my regular function voice, the voice that is partly my present self but partly my guide, my higher self, to bring forth something. Some suggestions, some observations, some directions. It really is an amazing thing to be able to do, if you properly consider it. These little symbols that have meaning. String them together into something. Something out of nothing. And it’s effect can be significant. Meaningful. Even life changing.

It’s free and available to all. That’s another nice thing. Anyone can do it. You just get started. I’ve seen and read some truly amazing pieces produced by some of my students in creative writing class. We do a lot of 5, 10, 15 and 20 minute automatic writing exercises. I will give a starting line - something simple like ‘I remember…’ or ‘The day was dark…’ and then each student just goes for it. Pen to paper - never lifting, never looking up. Almost like transcribing to an inner dictation. The editing can come later. The fixing up. The making sense of. While we are doing the exercises, it’s all about going for it, getting out of your own way and getting it onto the page. Sprint drills.

I has some students that never really wrote much before who produced some surprising and delectable pieces. They would shock and delight themselves as much as the rest of us. At the end of each exercise, one or two people would read out, share. Some are, at first, a little reluctant, shy, but it’s a safe environment. We are all in it together. Common cause. At the end of the reading, others can comment; if something comes naturally. Often just smiles, or grunts or ‘ooo’s. Nothing negative. It’s not a critique. So, yeah, I remember some really wonderful stuff - from both newcomers and more experienced writers alike. The point is that really, what we are doing is allowing a light to be shone on our souls, we are accessing a true element of self, one beyond our daily functions. And in there lies the wonder.

Now that, it seems, I have briefly put on my teacher’s hat - I encourage everyone to do some free writing of their own. It’s absolutely rewarding. It’s as invigorating as a walk in nature. And just as good for you.

How amazing that we can teach ourselves, learn from ourselves! What a system! And the more you think and express and observe about your self - beyond the superficial level - the more you realise that ‘you’ are not just the ‘you’ that you know. ‘You’ are part of a much bigger network, a much greater knowing. That’s just how it is. We function as individuals but also as representatives of the species. And what species is that? Humans. Humans we are called. But why are we here? What are we doing? What is the purpose of it all? The whole game?

These are things to think about, to write about, to ponder and prod. Of course there is no ultimate answer. It’s all just about finding a flavour or a feeling, one particular to you in that series of moments, as you create - that will express your unique take on the question. And in producing that you make something that other humans can later appraise, absorb and respond to.

‘Ah, yes! I know that feeling!’ Or ‘Hmmm... what exactly is being said here?”

It may be written work, a painting, a drawing, a comic, a song - anything. It will be a reflection of life. It will be a manifestation, a symbol. One that can be shared and enjoyed by others. Others in exactly the same boat - or, more accurately - their own vessel on the same seas. One that they will observe and respond to and possibly be inspired to create their own version of. And how do they do that? Just by deciding to. You can do no wrong. It’s easy (in a sense) - all you need to do is tap in to your true voice, your true feelings and express them.

It’s about truth. Honesty. Transparency. We are all looking for clues all the time to add to our infinite internal databases. We hunger to know what life is for, what it is about, what our purpose is. We want to be immerse, engaged, connected. That is our nature.

And being creative, freely, and without self judgement or censor, is one of the simplest and most profound ways of doing that.

I just had a little go right then. Start, go, finish. You always end up somewhere. And, almost always, you feel a little better than when you left. You’ve made a mini journey without having to go anywhere. You traversed time from a solitary position in space and did so while on a mission. So, in a sense, by the very act of doing what you did, you answered your own question. What am I here for? To write.

But what does it mean? Ahhh… let somebody else try and figure that out. ​
0 Comments

Shadowy Reflections

6/1/2017

0 Comments

 
Picture

     I was thinking about what I wrote yesterday. About sharing my vulnerability here in my art blog. 
One of the reasons I include posts like that is because they come up, they write themselves and I feel no need to sublimate or hide them. But, I wondered, later, is it a good thing to include stuff like that - that is a bit of a downer?

And, yes, I decided, it is important to balance the good with the bad. It is utmost important (to me) to be real and raw. That is what this forum is for. What I chose to spend time and energy on. I feel it is worthwhile.
There is too much image, cover up, misrepresentation around. Truth gets shouted over, veiled, manipulated. 

Fuck that, I say.
The more real you are with yourself, and with those around you, the more authentic a life you will lead. And what point fake? Foggy? Clouded? Things are challenging enough as they are.

One of my primary goals with these writings is to be honest and fearless. Share my heart, bare my soul. Having made it to fifty five, so far, I feel like I can be of humble service to my fellow beings by opening up, revealing. We like authenticity, we crave it, need it, need it bad.
The journey is a long one and anything that can illuminate, expound upon, reveal honest sentiments and experiences that will assist us in our voyage is a good thing.
​

There is not point in me just crapping on about the good stuff. Sharing victories, flaunting my art, preaching poetically about the wonders of creativity - as magnificent as they are. We all need some mustard, spice, charred flavours, too. The underside, the mystery, the murky confusion, the fog - for we live there, too. On the downside, the dark side. It is nothing to fear. Not really. Not nearly as much as we tend to anyway.
None of this is news, it's just off-the-top-of-my-head though sharing. 

I'm an ordinary guy. I am complex. Sometimes, I am troubled, lost, destabilised by circumstance. I'm the same as all of us. But I want to speak, I want give voice to the howling wind in the sudden storms, I want to find words for the turgid waves that crash against our row boat souls and throw us to and fro, without mercy, relentlessly at times. I want to make sense of the senseless, throw light on the bleak, put a tattered blanket around the shivering frame of the fragile universal soul during times of stress and spiky challenge. 

To make it though the gauntlets of my own, I want to reflect on the twists, recount the harrowing falls and summit attempt failures, give solace to the exhausted, the weary, the injured elements that reside within us. I am no hero, but maybe, if I never give up, I can close my eyes for the final time with a meek and fragile smile of victory knowing that not only did I withstand the best that fate could hurl at me but that I fucking chewed it up and spat it out, mouth bloody, teeth shattered, face blackened, but like I said, smiling faintly, completely spent, ready to release my sword, drop my pen and fall into the roaring silence.

Ho, ho. I do have fun with words. They give me access to a higher power, a taste of wonder which we all share, a single strand with which to connect to our universal connectedness. ​

Let me be clear then. I embrace it all. I have reached the point where I can clearly see that to do so is the only way. Be immersed but unattached. Sounds like a paradox. Fittingly.
0 Comments

Easy Writers

17/1/2016

0 Comments

 
Picture
Sometimes it's best if I just start writing here, as soon as I get home. The moment I sit at my computer. Because if I start to read emails or check out facebook, I will often get distracted. My head will get filled with things not of my choosing. That is fine sometimes but it is important, too, to empty your head. To throw a bucket attached to a rope, throw it in, let it fall deep down. Let it splash on the bottom. See what you bring up from the well of your subconscious. 

Writing is as easy as that sometimes. It's just about doing it. Getting started. Hopping on the bull or the horse, or the bike, or whatever imaginary mode of transport you wish. Just get started and keep going. Whether what you write will be any good or not, of interest, of merit - well, that is a separate issue. But at least you will end up with something. Something that you can work with. Something that you can later edit, craft, into something better. 

It is sometimes called 'automatic writing' and it's a technique used by many. I used to employ it, prodigiously, in the creative writing workshops I ran. It was interesting the way some would take to it immediately, like runaway trains, and others would balk, resist, be their own worst enemy. The trick is to let the right side of your brain take over. That's the creative, expressive side. Hush the left side, tell it to sit quietly, go to sleep, it's time to be critical, to judge, to impart it's need for order and perfectionism will come after. It will get it's chance at the editing stage. Right now it's all about non-judgement, flow, release. 

When a writer (or an artist of any sort, for that matter), is able to get out of their own way and do it with ease, that's when the good stuff is allowed to come out, that's when the magic appears. It's the sweet spot, the zone, satori. Like everything worthwhile, it takes practice, lots of it, but it's worth it. You find yourself as a conduit, the voice, the hands of a higher power. You no longer even have to really think after a while. You just do your job, your duty; you just keep on writing whatever is there.

And because it is so smooth and easy, there is a great pleasure in the act itself. You are no longer questioning or judging - you are just as much enjoying the natural thrill of riding a wave as any surfer, relishing the free fall as much as any sky diver and getting lost in the moment of complete focus as any athlete of calibre. It is a thrill, it is a magical experience - available to all, I might add. I've had people come to my classes who started out stilted and clumsy and uncertain and left with a new outlook, a fresh confidence, a love of the play of the mind using just teensy letter and words sprayed out in sequence. I witnessed some amazing transformations in just a short period, when students where coaxed into dropping their guards and letting their minds dance, freestyle and ungainly at first, with their pens, only to eventually find that within them was insight and intelligence, poetry and lyricism, well beyond what they ever imagined. 

I believe there is no, should be no, separation between good writers and bad. There are only those who do and those who choose not to. My job was to encourage the 'um, maybes' into walking to the edge of the plank and just diving in. It's an addictive thrill.

Of course, some people have natural talent, some are more practiced, inclined, and that is why we have great books. But everyone, has the opportunity, the talent, to at least record something of merit, surprise, meaning, joy, if they want to. Some of the most amazing pieces came from the least likely candidates in those workshops. After a few hours of exercises, we'd do twenty minutes of free writing, with minimal direction and guidance - just a few starting words. Some were reading out jaw droppingly good short essays and stories. Or provocative. Like the masseuse and artist, in her late twenties, who wrote about her sexual encounters. Boy, did she wake everyone up during the readings. It wasn't so much the sex that invoked attention, it was the HONESTY. (And the sex.)

Like the bike courier, who had never written before, who wrote with such gorgeous flow and cadence in such a free and enriching style that the whole class felt like they were witnessing the reincarnation of Dickens or Poe. Like the old fella, what was his name? He shocked everyone. Had he really done that? The story he just read out - it sounded real. Too real to be fiction almost? Him? Wild and crazed urban adventures like he said? And he never let on. Was it him or his imagination? It didn't matter. We all just want to escape. We all want to believe. Writing transports us. And when you are the writer, you are driving the vehicle.

In some ways, it's the freest you'll ever be. Am I trying to turn you on to it? Yes. Why? Because it's a delicious drug. Somewhat addictive. Is it harmful? Fuck no, it's good for you! Too good to be true? Yes. Just like the stories that are in you, waiting to come out.

0 Comments

Dreams of Flying

8/3/2015

0 Comments

 
Picture
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

0 Comments

    RSS Feed

    ART GETS ME HIGH

    Picture

    Author & Artist

    Lewie JPD 
    Blog Mission Statement: 

    "I am taking this opportunity to openly and freely express my simple truth in a relaxed, stream of consciousness manner, without self judgment or editing while transcribing and celebrating the process and practice of being an artist.

    My goal is that I will have some fun recording sentiments and thoughts as they come to me, coupled with my recent imagery. As well; to learn something of value and share something that may inspire/offer insight to other artists, creatives and sentient beings."


    Disclaimer: He's high!
    Er, obviously.

    Pass the paint brush!
    *no drugs required

    Instagram

    Archives

    September 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    November 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    March 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    March 2013
    February 2013

    Categories

    All
    000 Images
    12
    1961
    60's
    70's
    Abbey Road
    Abstract
    Acceptance
    Adaptation
    Addiction
    Adventure
    Advice
    Age
    Air Con
    Airport
    Album Cover
    Aliens
    Alone
    Amazing
    Ambition
    Amy Schumer
    Animation
    Anorexia Nervosa
    Anxiety
    Anyone
    Applause
    Arai Ken
    Archery
    Art
    Artist
    Artists
    Art School
    Assistant
    Attitude
    Audience
    Auditions
    Aussie
    Autobiographies
    Automatic Writing
    Awareness
    Babysitters
    Balance
    Bars
    Bay City Rollers
    Beach
    Beauty
    Bed
    Being Human
    Believe
    Belongil
    Betrayal
    Beyond
    Bigger Picture
    Billy Joel
    Bingo Pinball
    Birdman Of Alcatraz
    Birthday
    Black & White
    Blah
    Bliss
    Blog
    Bluebird
    Bluster
    Bondi
    Boogie Wonderland
    Books
    Book Shops
    Bosozoku
    Bruce Springsteen
    Buddhism
    Bullshit
    Bullying
    Bush School
    Byron Bay
    Cafe
    Cafes
    Canvas
    Caravan
    Castaneda
    Cat Stevens
    Caveman
    CD
    Celebrity
    Chainsaw
    Challenge
    Challenges
    Chance
    Change
    Chanting
    Chaos
    Cheese
    Chemistry
    Childhood
    Chill Out
    Chirp
    Chocolate
    Choices
    Coffee
    Coincidence
    Collage
    Collecting
    Comedy
    Comfort
    Comics
    Commercial
    Communication
    Compassion
    Computer Games
    Concepts
    Conflict
    Connection
    Conrad Mecheski
    Consciousness
    Contemplation
    Cosmic
    Counselling
    Country Life
    Cows
    Crazy Guy
    Creation
    Creativity
    Cronuts
    Cupboard
    Curiousity
    Daily
    Dali
    Dance
    Dancing
    Danger
    Dark
    Darkroom
    Dating Site
    Dave Eggers
    Day
    Death
    Denise Linn
    Depression
    Depth
    Despair
    Destiny
    Devotion
    Diet
    Disco
    Discovery
    Divine
    Divorce
    Dogs
    Drama
    Drawings
    Dreaming
    Dreams
    Drinking
    Driving
    Ducks
    Echoes
    Effort
    Ego
    Elvis
    Emotion
    Encouragement
    Enlightenment
    Epiphany
    Escape
    Esoteric
    Evolution
    Exhibition
    Existence
    Experiences
    Expression
    Facebook
    Faces
    Failure
    Faith
    Family
    Fantasy
    Fat
    Fate
    Father
    Fear
    Feelings
    Film
    Fish
    Flow
    Focus
    Foraging
    Freedom
    Freelance
    Free Spirit
    Free Time
    Friends
    Fulfilment
    Fun
    Funny
    Future
    Gaia
    Galleries
    Gallery
    Game Centres
    Garage
    Garageband
    Garfunkel
    Geisha
    Ghandi
    Gilligan's Island
    Girlfriends
    Girls
    Giving
    Globesity Festival
    Glorious
    Gnocchi
    Goals
    Gods Of Play
    Google
    Grandfather
    Gratitude
    Greatness
    Groupies
    Growth
    Guru
    Gypsy
    Haiku
    Hallucinations
    Hand Colouring
    Happiness
    Hashish
    Headspace
    Highschool
    Hip Hop
    Hippies
    Hipster
    Hiroo
    Hokusai
    Homage
    Honesty
    Hope
    Hotel
    Hoyts
    Humanity
    Humility
    Humour
    Hysteria
    I Am
    Ideas
    Identity
    Idle
    Illusion
    Illustration
    Illustrators
    Images
    Imagination
    Improvisation
    Inner Voice
    Input
    Insight
    Insignificance
    Inspiration
    Internet
    Interview
    Introspection
    Intuition
    IPad
    Irony
    Isaac Asimov
    Island
    James Joyce
    James Salter
    Japan
    Japanese Girls
    Jarrah
    Jazz
    Joan Didion
    John Lyndon
    Joking
    Journal
    Journey
    Judgement
    Jump
    Junk Food
    Kids
    Kings Cross
    Koalas
    Kombi
    Kookaburra
    LA
    Larry David
    Laugh
    Laughter
    Launch
    Lazy
    Learning
    Leisure
    Lessons
    Letter
    Lfie
    Liberation
    Library
    Life
    Limitations
    List
    Listening
    Looking
    Love
    Lovers
    Lsd
    Lucky
    Lust
    Lyrics
    Magazine House
    Magda Szubanski
    Magic
    Maine
    Marriage
    Marshmallow
    Martini
    Master
    Me
    Meaning
    Meat
    Meditation
    Melancholy
    Mellow
    Memoirs
    Memories
    Mental Health
    Mentors
    Metaphysical
    Michael Miner
    Michael W. Clunes
    Middle Bar
    Mind
    Money
    Monkey
    Monks
    Monsters
    Mortality
    Motorbikes
    Movies
    Mud
    Mullumbimby
    Music
    Music Video
    My Room
    Mystery
    Naive
    National Art School
    National Lampoon
    Nature
    New York
    New Zealand
    Nobody
    Nothing
    Now
    NYC
    Obsession
    Ocean
    Olympics
    Once Upon A Deadline
    One Day
    Opportunity
    Osho
    Out-of-body
    Outsider
    Painting
    Paperbacks
    Parents
    Paris
    Parking Lot
    Passion
    Past
    Patches
    Paul Simon
    Pavlova
    Peace
    Pee
    People
    Perception
    Philosophy
    Phooey!
    Photography
    Physics
    Pieces
    Pigs
    Pizza
    Place
    Play
    Playboy
    Poem
    Poems
    Poetry
    Poker
    Pop Art
    Popeye Magazine
    Portfolio
    Portraits
    Positive
    Possibility
    Potential
    Poverty
    Povo
    Practice
    Preacher
    Precious
    Pretty
    Pretty Good
    Process
    Processing
    Procrastination
    Production
    Profound
    Psyche
    Psychology
    PTSD
    Publish
    Pud
    Pure
    Purpose
    Pussy
    Puzzle
    Questions
    Quotes
    Radio Show
    Raffle-tickets
    Ramble
    Raymond Carver
    Reading
    Realisation
    Reality
    Rebirth
    Reflection
    Relationships
    Resolution
    Respect
    Retreat
    Revelation
    Reward
    Rhythm
    Richard Walters
    Rite Of Passage
    Roller Skating
    Romance
    Ronda Rousey
    Roppongi
    Running
    Sadness
    SAE
    Sake
    Salad
    Salvation
    Samsung Note
    Sanctuary
    Saturday Night Fever
    Scar
    School
    Screenplay
    Screenwriting
    Scripts
    Search
    Searching
    Security
    Seduction
    Self
    Selfie
    Self Respect
    Seminar
    Senses
    Sentience
    Serendipity
    Serenity
    Sex
    Shaman
    Sharing
    Shibuya
    Shift
    Shinjuku
    Short Stories
    Sick
    Sid
    Simplicity
    Simulation
    Singing
    Sit
    Sitting
    Skulls
    Sky
    Slap
    Sleep
    Slobbering
    Snacks
    Snowman
    Society
    Sociey
    Socks
    Solo
    Something
    Somewhere
    Song
    Soul
    Soundcloud
    Space Invaders
    Speeches
    Speed
    SPen
    Spidey Sense
    Spirit
    Spiritual Bricks
    Spirituality
    Spooky
    Sports Jacket
    Stages
    Stalin
    Steiner
    Steve Smith
    St Mary's
    Story
    Stress
    Struggle
    Studio
    Success
    Suffering
    Surrealsim
    Surrender
    Survival
    Swallow
    Swamp
    Swim
    Tears
    Technique
    Technology
    Teen Years
    The Factory
    The International
    The Joy Of Sex
    The Magician's Way
    Theo
    Therapy
    The Voice
    The Void
    Thinking
    Thoughts
    Time
    Tingly Feeling
    Together
    Toilet
    Tokyo
    Tom Robbins
    Too-much-ness
    Toys
    Transcendence
    Travel
    Tricks
    Tripping
    Trouble
    Truman Capote
    Trust
    Truth
    Trutth
    Turtle
    TV
    TV CM
    Twins
    Typing
    UCLA
    UFC
    Uncomfortable
    Uni
    Unique
    Universe
    University
    Upswing
    Usher
    Valour
    Value
    Vegetarian
    Vego
    Vessels
    Viewer
    Vikings
    Virginity
    Vogue
    Vulnerability
    Waitresses
    Walk
    Walrus
    Warrior
    Wealth
    Weird
    Whim
    Whisper
    Will.i.am
    Wings
    Winning
    Wisdom
    Woman
    Women
    Wonder
    Wonderful
    Wonder-world
    Woodblock Prints
    Woody Allen
    Words
    World
    Writer
    Writers
    Writing
    Yakuza
    Yeats
    Yeti
    Yoga
    You
    Youth
    Zany
    Zen
    Zines

    RSS Feed