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This Place

4/7/2018

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Will you find yourself in this place?

It still has all the potential that it always had
But have you the will to use it wisely?

Living on fumes
Humming new tunes
Not always immune
To reality’s brutality

Diverging in and out of illusion

With every new day a new mood at play
And a fresh set of circumstantial challenges

It’s the way the game is set up
Just the way life unfolds
Unevenly
Sometimes
Leaves you kind of crumpled
Slightly severed
Cold

Like just now
Just before
You may have momentarily locked eyes
With the bearer of your dreams

But you looked down
Averted your gaze
Unlike the you of yore

No more chancing encounters
No more urgency at play

Too many bouts with breaking hearts
Unfulfilled hopes, left to die
Not literally
But at the time it felt that way

And the face in the mirror
Sure, familiar
But worn
Less absorbing that’s for sure

Though you still don’t act your age
Most likely never will

Never
Seems like a long time
Like a life
Seemed like forever
Back then

But now we’re nearing the crunch time
Rearing up on the reckoning
The dark abyss discreetly murmurs, beckoning
And, again, it begs the question

Will you find yourself in this place?
Before your course is curtailed
Or will you just quietly fade away?

Find yourself or fade away?

Could they be one and the same?

It’s funny, this place
You just never quite know
Where you stand


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Look Away

14/5/2018

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​There’s just so much going on

These days
And, although, of course
There always was
It’s in our face
On our screens
In our ears
A constant drone
A prolonged scream
For attention

From everyone
About everything

No wonder
We feel overloaded
Foggy, numb and bloated

There’s only so much
One person can absorb

So much of what we are fed
Is garbage
Soul-less spruiking
Money motivated
Trying to grab our attention
For selfish reasons

Vapid
Surface
Tepid
Worthless

Look away, I say
Look away
See the clouds and imagine things
See the mountains and head towards them

Climb above the every day fog
Of useless information clouding your vision

You need to!
No, not later!
Now!

It’s an addiction
This over stimulation
It delivers no joy
Its just distraction
A ploy
Packed with platitudes
A pantomime
To sway your attitude
To swipe something from you
Your time or energy, your money
It’s corrupting, egregious
Don’t shrug or laugh it off
It corrupts you
It isn’t funny

Look away, I say
Look away
Turn off your device
Step back from the screen
Sure, life is an illusion anyway
But nature’s presentation is so much more pristine
Has substance, grounding, meaning

Get real again
Find purity
Simplicity
Use your ingenuity
To create a depth of reality
That you can rely on
And believe in
Beyond the prism of digital domains
Which pretty quickly can become a prison

Escape to find yourself
Go outside and stay there
Unplug and unwind
Go outside of your craving mind
So much more out there
Awaits you

Look away, look away
Before the shiny thing
Makes you dumb and blind

Look away
Look away

See there?
Far in the distance
You may find yourself
Ready and awaiting your return

Go!
Now!
Not later!


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beyonder landing

18/12/2014

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I was lying on my bed early this evening, having a rest before the night's entertainment episodes (Project Runway All Stars, Last Week Tonight with John Oliver and an ep or two of the final season of Sons of Anarchy), thinking about the day, thinking about what is, what could be, things that are and things that may be, as well as some that never will, when I considered what this blog entry might be.

I usually don't think about it too much in advance, just shake up the jar, open the lid and see what spills out - but I wanted to write something with currency, perhaps even temerity. I wanted to do this because I have an internal rating system in my memory and carry a constant idea of the aggregate weight and substance of my recent entries. If I feel there has been too much fluff or self indulgence in sequence, I try and mine the deeper recesses of my creative subconscious for some stuff of greater value, higher payoff, more meaning. If not gold, because gold has to be stumbled upon, not manufactured, then at least a good vein of silver or some random shiny diamonds.

And did I find anything while mining my mind tonight? 

Maybe. I cannot say.

What I did come up with was the realisation that whatever I write here in this cyberspace journal, my artist's diary, is really only a translation of what goes on in my head. And a pretty rough one at that. Rough and basic. Very basic. The true nature of what occurs in our minds is so vastly more complex and incredible than we could ever express with mere words that it is almost inane. It's like a super genius explaining something to an eight year old and then getting him or her to then retell it to a friend the next day during playtime. 

Seriously. I was paying some close attention to the amazing, yes, amazing, cerebral zinging that was going on while I was prone pondering this evening - and I knew, that there would be absolutely no way that I could ever, EVER express the full spectrum of the stellar light show that was occurring. Still, I resolved, I would try. At very least I would be able to explain and apologise for the gap between what goes on and what is reported. And that in itself, that may be somewhat illuminating.

What I am saying is true for us all. We are so much more complex than we realise. We are absorbing and processing and filtering such a vast amount of information from so many sources on so many levels in our every waking moment. And then, when it comes time to condense and arrange it, we end up with, by default, a simplistic sliver of the whole. It's not a surprise, really - or a revelation. But the interesting thing is that a lot of the wild thinking can be observed in moments of solitude and respite and not only enjoyed but quietly marvelled at. What beings we are! Incredible. Way, way, way beyond what we give ourselves credit for. And way beyond what we are currently able to manifest. Or type out in a soliloquy. And this is a good thing to acknowledge. Because it means that we are all very much richer than we know. 

Take a look, have a listen to what goes through your mind when you take some time out to quietly think or meditate. Once you go out beyond the breaking waves of the chatter, there's a whole ocean of incredible power and timeless beauty there. It's yours. It's you. It's all of us.

Despite the horrible tragedies and injustices that are occurring daily in our time - that seem to be coming to a head, perhaps - there lies beyond a splendid and unlimited array of alternative realities within each of us. Accessible now. 

Go on, go take a look. See for yourself. It's just like someone whispered. The change we long to see in this world comes from within.
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From Little Things

21/11/2014

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I voluntarily missed out on my night time poker game, so you know it must be important. I was invited to the Steiner school to attend a night of short speeches by year six - one of whom is my beloved godson, Jarrah. 

It was a special activity and they were adeptly coached and mentored by a drama teacher/parent who donated his time. Each kid, all around 12, spoke for 3 or 4 minutes. When they announced that there were going to 28 speeches in succession - it was a little bit like - OK, this is going to be a long haul. I was very happy to be there surrounded by the creative energy, the excitement, the proud parents and the precious children. I was expecting something shorter, perhaps, but, hey, let's see what comes...

In short, it was awesome. Each kid had chosen a topic close to their heart and had written the speech themselves. They had obviously all practiced well - some even spoke from memory. The topics were varied and interesting, topical: Global Warming, Learning From Mistakes, Caring for Animals, The Barrier Reef. One kid spoke on the Importance of Mothers. He got a standing ovation. About five of the boys talked about soccer. Jarrah's speech was about archery - his new passion. It began with the quote from Zen master Eugen Herrigel: "In the case of archery, the hitter and the hit are no longer two opposing objects, but one reality."

Mind focus. Merging. 

At some point in the evening, it was cleear the speakers and the listeners became that one reality. At the end of the talks, they sang three songs. One of them was by Paul Kelly and Archie Roach: "From Little Things Big Things Grow", which happens to be one of my favourite songs. The audience sang along on the chorus. Seeing those young souls there, fully alive and in the moment, gushing with innocence and enthusiasm, I pictured how each of them will grow up to be compassionate and strong adults and was overwhelmed with the absolute beauty of humanity. Tears were rushing down my face. I have not felt so in place, connected and honoured to be a human for a long time. I was uplifted and transformed. New seeds of hope and wonder were planted that night. We'll see what grows.
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put up a parking lot

11/8/2014

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My brother Mook sent me this picture of a parking lot in Tokyo yesterday. In it's place, up until recently, was Roppongi Square Building. RSB housed five or six nightclubs, a tiny cafe and a sprawling, ground floor game centre. I spent much of my youth in that building. 

I was a regular at the cafe, afternoons, after school, I would ride my motorbike there and hang out with the cool twenty-something Japanese dudes drinking coffees and puffing away on Seven Stars. I was the only foreigner there, somehow I had been admitted into the congenial gang. Sometimes we would saunter into the game centre and play the latest low-tech, novel amusement machines - bingo pinball. 
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I had completely forgotten about playing these machines but suddenly I was reminded how much I loved playing them. They were quite difficult to master - many decisions and stratergies and also ball control with gentle tilting and jousting with the machine. I wish I could play it again. Right now. Getting the ball down to 23, 24 and 25 - sometimes crucial -was a major task and then navigating it into the exact number you needed to line up your bingo - well, when achieved was an ecstatic moment.

The game centre had plenty of electronic games, of course. This was mid to late 70's, so it was all about Space Invaders, Mission Control, Car Driving Games, Pac Man and the like. During the day, on weekends, my brothers, Mook and Rich, and I would go there, if we weren't in Shibuya - which offered more great games centres PLUS pachinko (upright Japanese ball bearing game) PLUS movie theatres with the latest releases. 

At nights the Roppongi game centre was very popular with post dinner visitors and pre and post disco and nightclub revellers. I can smell and feel the boozy, smokey atmosphere right now. Even at their rowdiest, Japanese are quite contained and always polite. It was an awesome place to grow up on so many levels.

And many levels is what RSB had. My favourite discos - Nepenta and Giza were housed there. I would go there at least one night a week. I had a three piece suit and cowboy boots. It was the disco heyday in Japan, Saturday Night Fever created a frenzy and nightlife boomed. I had so many experiences there, across the threshold, that I plan to write a book about it one day soon. I saw things, did things, was immersed. I grew up there. From kid to seasoned night crawler. Roppongi nights. Like no other.
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We lived in Nishi Azabu. Our modest home was positioned right in between Hiroo Station and Roppongi Station on the Hibiya Line. Before I got my motorbike and started riding to School, I used to walk down to Hiroo (pictured above) and catch the subway and two trains to school. In the bottom right hand corner of the picture, downstairs, B1, was a tiny black leather, atmospheric cafe called Eruza. But everyone called it Comos. It was where the girls from Sacred Heart International School would go after school to hang out, drinking brews and smoke. A few of the boys from my class would go there after school also, arriving around 45 to 50 minutes later with commute. I was lucky to live close by and would almost always be part of the last group to leave around 5:30 or 6. I could just walk up the hill, Zaimokucho, to get home from dinner. It was the most education I got, down there in that dark, moody cafe. The banter, gossip, information exchange, romancing and friendship that were created and nurtured down there were priceless. 

Even at the time, I remember feeling so lucky and grateful being able to have such a valuable after school outlet for personality exchanges and general youthful exuberance and conceptual rebellion. We smoke ciggies, drank iced coffees, told stories.... there were tears, uncontrollable laughing sessions, serious arguments. But we were cohesive. A core group of about a dozen girls and half a dozen guys. My best friend, Jenny, a Hawaiian girl, was a cheerleader, sports star, academic achiever and very friendly and popular. She was an essential part of my belonging and maturing. She was very kind and beautiful on every level. We never dated. She went out with my friends and I went out with hers. The friendship was more precious, too precious to risk loosing. I was, even back then, in some ways an outsider, a joker. I had long hair and would risk getting in trouble at school if it meant getting some good laughs. In fact, I remember more than a few times, being suspended from school, and riding my motorbike to Comos, spending the day hanging out there reading one of my ever present paperbacks, waiting for the girls to arrive. Jenny would see me there already at three and know I had been mischievous. 

She was equally as playful in spirit but managed to avoid reprimand. We shared a love of fun and people. Her acceptance and embrace of me got me in with the rest of the girls, too. (I was 9 months to a year younger than everyone in the year.) There was a Texan, a Korean, some Japanese American halves, a Brazilian/Japanese at the core. I got close to them all and learnt SO MUCH from them about the workings of the female species. Many times, it was just me and the girls. I would just sit back and listen, absorb, throw in a joke now and then or answer a query, as best I could, about my own gender. It was almost like being a spy. But I never betrayed their confidence. Not once. I had too much respect for what I considered in many ways to be the superior sex. They were certainly more mature and wiser. Plus, they definitely looked and smelled better. I loved being around those girls! I think I kind of knew how lucky I was but tried not to make a big deal of it. Looking back now, I realise I was REALLY lucky. Insights gained then have taken me far in relationships and in generally understanding and appreciating humanity.

Ah, all these memories from a picture of a parking lot. They pulled down the building of my youth but they can't touch the priceless and golden alter of my friendships and experiences.
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Fragments

6/8/2014

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Fragments of memories of experiences long gone
Fading but not forgotten
Fortune's favourite song

Keep pushing that replay button

Did you ride high in the sky that day?
Did you holler with pride, screech with joy?
Was the whole world yours for that moment?
Tell me, was it unreal, did it haphazardly happen?
Your one of a kind, unique and special favourite story?

We all have them stored away safely

Some shouted out in barrooms 
Some still secret between just you and them
A few even made the papers maybe
Some just make you want to go back again

But you don't get second chances
In this showreel, fluttering, fleeting
And no returns, no two time burns
The drums just keep on beating

So move on to new peaks and pinnacles
You haven't finished until the end
Do not be dragged down by the mundane or the clinical
You've got the reputation of your lifetime to defend

Fire up
Loosen out
Grind and grind some more
Chin up
Crush the doubt
Power aid your core

With every thousand new dreams
One true adventure is born
Honour your primitive need
To be ignited, invited, reborn

You are still breathing, aren't you?
Then there is hope, there are chances
For in the end, you want to be there laughing, wild eyed
As your skeleton does it's majestic final dances



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cat n me

13/7/2014

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"Miles from nowhere
Guess I'll take my time
To reach there..."

Cat Stevens was a guiding force in my formative teen years. I learnt every word on the album Tea for the Tillerman and would listen to it (on vinyl; end of side A, flip it over and put the needle back down on side B, rpt - a process unknown to more recent arrivals on Planet E) over and over. So many incredibly soulful, meaningful, spiritual songs. All of them as relevant and poignant today as they were when first released in the early 70's. 

Father and Son
Wild World
Where Do The Children Play
Miles From Nowhere
But I Might Die Tonight
On The Road To Find Out

That's just some of them. I'd have a favourite for a few months and then move onto the next. As a rebellious teen, I didn't get any guidance from my parents or school. I was pretty much left to my own devices to work things out. Real world experiences, friends, a steady flow of books, and a few select albums. Cat was number one. He had it all - the inventive, pure, melodic music with the meaningful lyrics. Other faves were Elton John (Yellow Brick Road) and Jackson Browne.

"Be wise, look ahead
Use your eyes he said
Be straight, think right
But I might die tonight!"


Cat was an anti-establishment, anti-authoritarian guy. He seemed, in his mellifluous, calmly charismatic voice, to be talking to my young teenage self, saying, "you are right not to buy into all the bullshit, find your own way." Some of this I had worked out myself, it was innate, but having Cat back me up, with his wisdom, quiet charm and self assurance sure helped.


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could be anyone

10/6/2014

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He's come alive through facebook. It's his form of creative expression. He posts pictures of wonderful sunsets and beaches, advice on health and well being, funny slogans and ironic comics. All stuff sourced from other facebook pages. 

Most of it is pretty good. I don't know him that well but have come to know him better by his posts. They don't directly connect with me but generally they are of reasonably good quality. I can feel his joy in posting them. So I keep him on my feed. Why not. I care about the environment, eating healthy, and enjoy the positive slogan, too.

He used to have an ordinary job, then he got an inheritance and now he travels the world, in a modest fashion. (ie not fancy or wasteful, less Vegas more Nepal.) His girlfriend used to be a lesbian before they started going out and before that, when I first knew her, she was going out with a talented and somewhat mystical/deranged saxophonist dude. I saw him down at Bondi a few years ago, after a decade of not seeing him and he was even weirder than before. Still wearing lots of medallions and big rings and still with unusually configured facial hair. I went to see him gig once in a boutique hotel in Double Bay.

Come to think of it, lots of people I used to know are now just characters in a narrative in the recesses of my mind.

As well, many of my life's most formative and memorable experiences are now also just stories. Many, many of them, never told. Not yet, anyway.

My favourite post from the original guy I was talking about is a quote from OSHO. It's this:

'You are nobody. You are born as a nobodiness with no name, no form. You will die as a nobody. Name and form are just on the surface; deep down you are just vast space. And it is beautiful.'

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each new day

4/6/2014

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Each new day 
brings
it's own sensations, smells, flutterings

It springs
forth from the night

After respite
We are called to action
Could be challenge
Sometimes satisfaction

Each new day
promises
Hope, joy, fulfillment, adventure

We expect
Reward for our efforts

We anticipate
Arrivals and departures
With equal parts
Of soothing and sting

We feel things
Strings of things

We react and adapt
To

Each new day
surly
surrounds us
astounds us
whirly
confounds us
compounds us

Luckily
The sky is blue
And the sun gives warmth
And animals
Do their thing
Each new day

Choices, a lot of them
Perception, assessments
Intuition, responses

It's called being alive
and

Each new day
reminds us
relentlessly

Without judgement 
Or imposition
That each of us 
Is a mixture

Of confidence and surrender
Wonder
Acceptance
Suffering
Trust

and Hope
that

Each new day
Will be a little better
Than the one left behind
Washed away
Like our dreams

Did it ever really happen?
All of this, all of that

Each new day
Reminds us
Relentlessly

That we will never, ever know


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life is worth laughing for

26/5/2014

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Lighten up!

There is an abundance of things to be stressed about, enraged about, feel hard done by.... and I'm not just talking about our current government.

Sometimes it seems like the whole world is on the brink of collapse. And maybe it is.

I think its great to join together with others and join protests, take action against injustice, offer support, etc. But, as well, on a personal level, you want to avoid getting over burdened by fretting about events that you can not change and that are beyond the scope of your sphere of influence. There is just too much bad stuff going on at the moment that to take it all on mentally is just going to bring you down.

So, what to do? 

Seek the silly.
Favour the fun.
Follow the path to the pun.
Grow your own mirth.
Group giggles.
Funny accents whenever possible.
Jigs, slapstick, loud farts.

There's a lot you can do. The list goes on. I am not advocating ignoring reality, I am suggesting that you augment it with a fair share of lighthearted enjoyment. As often as you possibly can.

For in the end, whether the world eventually balances out and becomes the utopia it could be, the natural, just and egalitarian kingdom we all want it to be, or whether it all explodes in a flaming ball of human greed and foolishness, you may as well have a snicker or two along the way. Like a school day. It's mostly a bunch of useless bullshit being heaped upon you; play truant sometimes, have fun with your friends, cause some disruption. Cause just like when you make it through school and realise that it was all just a construct of control and oppression... well, so is modern day life in our society. So give it the finger, ignore the bla bla bla, zone out, dream your own dreams, slip out the back door and go find some sunshine and freedom to bask in.

Like Ghandi once said, "Fucking hell! What's the point in endless suffering?!" 

And soon after, decided to never wear a business suit instead and wrapped himself in his bed sheet. Good man.


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and u can make yr own

21/5/2014

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“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”                                                     W.B. Yeats
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    ART GETS ME HIGH

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    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

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