Blog Posts - Lewie JPD

The Shift

25/4/2018

I need a reason
To get up in the morning
An interest strong
To keep me interested
To help me carry on

Days can wear you down
Once you’ve been around the block
A few hundred times
Not much can shock
You get kind of resigned

Despite best intentions
To remain spirited, keen
There’s a shift in perception
Increased apprehensions
Life loses it’s sheen

Now I’m not complaining
It is what it is
I’m really just saying
You should not be surprised
When you get here
If you make it this far

There’s no prize for endurance
In fact it’s bizarre
What a let down
After the build up of youth, middle age
After years of vigilance and persistence
How you end up with in shade
Out of the limelight
Adrift from the crowd
Removed from the parade

And it’s not sudden
It creeps up on you slow
Like the reverse of seduction
Leaves you perplexed, listless, T.K.O’d

Down for the count
And tempted to remain
Prone, maybe linger
Immersed in the muffled mundane

But you shouldn’t
Don’t!
You can’t!

It’s just a different kind of challenge
That you need to accept and embrace
In many ways harder than
Demands of the earlier, preliminary races

It’s not all presented to you
Laid out on your plate
You’ve got to rustle up your hustle
Grapple with your diminishing fate

Decide to continue
Despite lowered odds
A limited menu
And an audit from the gods

Play it as you will
What remains
It’s up to you

Now you know just who you are
You need to watch the levels on the reservoir
Find enrichment in truth rather than thrill

Speculator/Spectator

24/3/2018

I mean, I can only write what I write, eh?

Sometimes I manufacture an internal pressure based on expectation that I should be writing ‘better’ or creating content more poignant, meaningful, entertaining.

But all I can do is reflect on my life.

So what if it’s not world changing, spectacular, of pristine quality? None of that is me, anyway. I’m just an ordinary guy making my way through life, taking it as it comes. Definitely not plotted out or polished.

Much of my time is spent just trying to deal with the challenges - physical, emotional, mental and circumstantial - that life presents me. As I am sure you know, and probably concur, it’s a full time job.

On top of all that administrative dealing - between the gaps, when I can, when I am able to/compelled to - I cruise into Creativille and check out what’s happening. Do a little composition, splash some paint around or play with some MIDI note sequencing.

This is my escape, my salvation. Getting into creative projects is one of my main sources of soothing distraction, uplifting hullabaloo, temporarily elevating salvation.

I know that in the long run none of it will mean anything - but what are you going to do? Lay down and die? Eventually, yes. But until then? Gotta do something. Everyone finds their thing(s), eventually.

Much of a life is just a reaction to what has happened already. Our childhoods - the time when we are least equipped to understand, adequately deal with complex emotions and demanding situations - is when reality comes crashing in and often overwhelms us. With our resilient, hopeful, naive little minds we do our best to makes sense of things and deal with what comes.

From when we hit our teens we begin to form our identities more succinctly and formulate through trial and error, instinct and deep consideration, contemplation strategies to carry us forward into the expansive unknown called our futures.

The thing is that much of what has happened, occurred during our early years is so random and essentially indecipherable that our young selves are not really capable of fully or properly resolving things. Of course, we do our best, but it’s a rare person who does not transition our of youth with a bevy of skewed perceptions, phobias and emotion packed time bombs that will have to be unpicked and disarmed over the next few decades.

On top of all this, there will be the ongoing, surging flow of incidents and accidents across the spectrum from delectable to horrific that will require thought, attention and action.

Essentially, we are not properly equipped. It’s a loaded game.

Sure, there are times of relief, chill, uplifting. Life can treat us royally for a time, as well.

Undoubtably, there is some magic, mystery, romance. Hopefully, the balance tips in favour of the positive. But some days, some weeks, some years - it’s difficult to believe this.

This is all just my perception, but it comes not just from self experience but from observation as well. I try to be accurate in my assessment and intuitive in my understanding of the life experience.

There’s nothing new in what I am talking about but I am not trying to write anything new. I am quite simply attempting to honestly transcribe my sequence of thoughts.

We think of writing, written works as being elevated, illuminating, polished. We read things that are written by people we believe know a little more than we do, can tell us things that will help us on our journeys.

But my writing - it’s not like that. I’m no professor, no expert, no preacher.

I have way more questions than answers. I’m more an off-the-cuff speculator/spectator than a sanctimonious expert. I’m a muddy, ruffled, fellow soldier down the trenches rather than an order-wielding officer acting like I have the answers. It is a war out there (in here) and in a way it’s every man and woman for themselves. (But, thankfully, most of the time - when we most need it, someone else is sometimes there for us.)

Sometimes it feels over the top. Cruel, even. Writing stuff like this helps me come to terms with things - even though I present no resolution, offer no tips or suggestions. If I could, I would. But like I have been saying; I’m no expert.

Like you (maybe), I just make things up as I go along.

Life goes in waves and for me, at the moment, due to a concerted effort in pursuing positive activities and showing behavioural restraint as well as a run of fortune that seems to be close to 50/50 (I’ll take it!), I am feeling mostly able to deal with where things are at. Some days, naturally, feel decidedly more challenging than others but if I consider things - like say this last week for example - I have had more good days than bad.

Is this constant barrage of burdens, small, medium and large, part of some bigger plan? It seems not. Then - why?

I don’t know. I really don’t.

But if I stumble upon anything prophetic, enlightened, if I suddenly become a saviour, a guru or even a more eloquent, informed and incisive writer all of a sudden; I’ll let you know. Until that time, I guess we are both just going to have to make do with this kind of casual confessional/conjecture, this candid, unsophisticated deliberation.

Make the best of what is.

Whoever 4 Ever

9/3/2018

Communicating is one of my things.

Just not so much by talking.

Rather than use dialogue or conversation, I share my points of view in other ways - randomly alternating an arsenal of creative proficiencies - art, music and writing.

It’s an every day, many hour activity these days. Actually, it always has been - but as time has gone by, I have definitely become more focused and dedicated. Part of the reason is that I get a deep satisfaction from losing myself in what I’m doing. It’s a way of really getting into life. Like an athlete does, lovers do, and scientists. Dedication and application get results. And one of the delightful benefits of the creative life is that one continues to improve and advance with age (not ‘forward’ advance - it’s more multi-dimensional). There are no limits. Lovers break up, athletes lose speed and power but an artist just keeps going and going. Often we start slow, seem lazy or unmotivated at times, appear temperamental, are irregular in our output in both quality and quantity - but we keep on keeping on. The rewards are rarely material or financial - which can make enthusiasm hard to muster at times - but they are, especially when one has persevered for decades - soulfully rewarding.

I have been write things here, in this artist’s journal, steadily for the last five years. It used to be more often - and sometimes I feel like I am being neglectful of it. But the thing is; other pursuits - poems, collages and new electronic music tracks are taking up my time and energy every day. So, to set aside some time to delve into my headspace and express it in writing - not through a poem (which I love doing) and is like a tasty snack - but in stream of consciousness straight forward prose (going with the flow form) is rarer. I never really know exactly where these journal entries are going to lead - exactly what is going to come out - and to be honest I find it easier to work on one of the other creative forms - they are more inventive and engaging.

The other thing is, I don’t have to do as much introspection. I don’t have to self reflect, open up, be raw as I whisper and wispish as I roar as with the other formats. Writing for this journal is more like going for a long run. It takes commitment. Especially right before starting. The payoff is usually there - it can be cathartic, revelatory, amusing or insightful - but not always. I don’t allow myself to edit of judge what I have written - either as I am doing it - or afterwards. I just let it all out. Keeps it real, keeps the flow. When I read back on these, down the track, I want to know what I have expressed is not only honest but un-sculptured. I just want pure transcription of mind space.

So, I am here now; doing one. And what I was thinking was - what is it exactly that I wish to communicate? Is there anything that is going to make a difference? To me or anybody else? Is making a difference even my goal? Life is such a turgid, ever shifting, momentum that no one thing, nothing is really of much lasting relevance in the long run.

So why bother, eh? Especially with something like this that is non-essential - that is just the blurting out of one little human, one artist fellow who lives in a rented room in a small town and essentially does the same thing day in-day out: sleeps in/goes to beach/goes to cafe/writes/makes new artworks/goes to studio to work on new tracks/comes home/makes giant salad/surfs the net/does more writing/watches stuff/goes to sleep late/then starts again.

Creature of habit.

Essentially, I am just existing in a most basic way. I have tried to work things out so that I don’t receive many (or any) phone calls, very few emails and get no visitors where I live. I have streamlined my simple existence so that I perform the basic functions necessary for survival - to make it through the day - and then the rest of the time I fill with either nature time (meditation and exercise), coffee time (stories or poems on my iPad), art time (on canvas or digital) or music time (Ableton explorations at SAE , where I am studying - in one of the studios).

Stuff like socialising, going to an office/job, participating in group activities - are no long part of my routine. I have gone from minimising these things to eliminating them altogether. Not sure if this is ideal - now that I am saying it - but it must be what I need for the moment - otherwise I wouldn’t be doing it. (Flawed logic - I know. Self delusion has got me into all sorts of strife in the past.)

Part of the reason I am conducting my time in this way is because I find some common things quite taxing. Although I can function perfectly well in any and all social situations, as time has progressed, I find them less and less rewarding. Of course, there are exceptions - like family. I always have time for my loved ones. (But I do live away from them - so the expectations are naturally limited.)

I have heard the monikers ‘hermit’ and ‘recluse’ used in reference to me recently. When I get home to the share house, I usually just go in my room and stay there - concentrate of working on my stuff. I’m not a fan of lounge rooms in general - most definitely not if there is a TV on. I hate feeling like I am wasting time - unless it is intentional - and sitting around shooting the shit is not something I chose to participate in. (Luckily my two housemates have their own blend of quirky habits and seem OK with it. Slightly puzzled, at times maybe, but accepting.

Should I be saying all this? Ha, ha. Fuck it - it’s true! The truth will set you free, it’s been said. (A relief - let’s hope it’s right.) But no, I don’t have any fear around saying it like it is in this forum. It’s all just temporary. Interpretation. Could even be fiction.

Labels are only labels, concepts and opinions ephemeral. Obviously, my life is much more intricate and abstruse than this brief account may reveal. I CAN act ‘normal’ (conforming, placating other’s expectations) - but I CHOOSE not to have to. It does not serve me or my mission - which is feeding my spirit and mind, fully creating new stuff all the time.

Did some one say ‘obsessive’? LOL. Again - just a word. And nothing wrong with healthy obsessions. You have to do something, right? No one is getting hurt. Confounded, maybe.

Although, it is totally beyond my control as to how this is interpreted - I do hope that for some readers, it opens up and sanctions new behavioural possibilities. Shows that it’s OK (I say!) to follow your own intuition, forge your own path - even if it puts you in the ‘outsider’ or dare I say - ‘weirdo’ - category. Truth is nobody else is keeping score. Everybody is fully consumed by obstacles and developments of their own - whatever that may be. Every one is doing what they must to navigate through this crazy (and occasionally partly sane) realm we inhabit.

Saying that, what is the crossover on a perception level? Say between me and you? There is much we have in common - interpretation of things - of everything - must be so different. We are all the sum of our inputs/experiences/upbringings and much of what we are is essentially just a reaction to what has been forced upon us up to this point - mixed in with a whole lot of other things, of course. It’s all so random!

Just thinking about it now is kind of blowing my mind. Not an atomic bomb level - but, you know, a hand grenade, at least. How can I even be writing this - and you reading it - and what the hell am I talking about? What am I trying to say? And why? Makes me believe that, despite what we may believe that we are all much more connected and entangled than we may think.

We all know life is freaky. Every day brings new examples. We want to keep on living - even though if you really assess it - it’s kind of hard work, mostly. Thankless even. It seems more that way, as continue to get older, anyway.

Every age has it’s own stages, it’s own challenges and rewards. When you get past fifty, there’s an undeniable shift in your relationship to life itself. It’s not only me - others have confirmed - youth and all it’s trappings are over. Many of the things you relied on to keep you interested and engaged are no longer in your spectrum. If they are they are fading. New attitudes, new behaviours become essential. I say all this like it’s some sort of revelation, surprise. And that’s because it kind of was - for me at least. It’s like the fun part of the game is over and while the game itself continues on and you remain as a player - there are parts that are no-go zones. And some of those parts may likely have been your favourite bits. The bits that you were not only good at but enjoyed.

It takes adjusting, let me tell you. (If you are around my age, you’ll relate.) At a certain point you have to do a total reassessment and work out a new approach - physically, mentally and spiritually. Mortality is a bigger consideration. Bigger picture things need to be considered. Health becomes vital - requires more vigilant attention, maintenance. Ignore it at your peril. (Some do.)

Fantasies - of great success, of perfect love, of enduring romance, of fool proof security, certainty, of changing the world - lose their muster. They are harder to sustain. As you grow and become more substantial, realistic, perhaps even of more social value - you realise more clearly how puny you and your aspirations really are in the scheme of things.

This revelation is two pronged. It can be rather depressing, distressing. But in another way, it is strangely comforting. The pressure is off. Self expectation can be corralled. After all, what is the point? Of anything?

It’s insane. But it’s also sobering.

What a journey it has been, I find myself thinking. So much! But where has it all gone? You can’t hold on to anything. Memories - they are fine and enjoyable (with a degree of payoff) but they can also be quite maddening because some of them include lifetime peaks - things that can never be recreated or relived. They can be reminders that you’ve had your go at being young and wild and reckless - and it’s over! There are still things you can do, of course, with effort, that will be rewarding - but the pay-off is reduced to 71% (estimate). They are not as prevalent or as flowing freely anymore and - I don’t know - it’s just not quite the same.

It may sound like I am complaining - but I am not. I have more or less come to terms with it all. Life has beaten into submission! (LOL. Cry. Wipe tears and shrug.) A long and slow, relentless assault. White flag!

The other prong that I mentioned - the positive one - comes once you have found acceptance. Some hoity-toity, altruistic qualities start floating around. Stuff like dignity, wisdom, endurance. You don’t immediately get any of these but, in tiny increments, they find their places in your existence. Some consolation! (It is.)

Just being a survivor is something. Connecting on deeper planes with others of your age (and all ages, in fact) brings some comfort. You are able to make conversations and connections more substantial, meaningful. Empathy is up.

A resolution not to give in too early or without profound resistance wells up in you. Sure, there’s plenty that you can’t change - but with focus and effort you can sustain what remains. You can work with what you’ve got - and by now you know well what that is - to hone it, perfect it, squeeze out whatever juice is in it.

Maybe you will become a teacher, an advisor, a mentor. You can give to your protégés the information, knowledge and encouragement that you wish you had received along the way on your own journey. You can make your life less about you and more about others. (This is a good one - natural for parents, of course - but available and rewarding to all.)

So - there you go. There I am. Here I was. A verbal ablution. An unfiltered declaration, a semi-spiritual sound off.

See what I mean? I just start writing and let it all pour out. There’s nothing particularly profound or even insightful here but it is where my head is at currently. I share because I can, because I choose to. I do it because I know myself that reading another’s truth can be illuminating, comforting. I have committed to sharing mine, as best I can - not as often as I wish, lately, as I mentioned - because above and beyond anything else we all need and want to feel connected.

The fact that I am able to share my vulnerabilities, ambivalent perceptions and my unresolved feelings without censorship is subtly uplifting. By necessity, out in society, we feel compelled to present our strongest selves but underneath, inside, we are all susceptible to a ceaseless flood of challenges and demands. If nothing else, we are versatile creatures, for sure. Each uniquely individual - but probably more alike than we realise.

So, it’s unlikely you will find yourself seated beside me at a dinner or engaged in a D&M phone convo like we may have done in the old days, so this is what you get instead - a slice of headspace to mull over and interpret in a way that best serves you. Whoever you are.

Sincerely,

Whoever I am

YooHoo From The Notaguru

7/2/2018

I would like to give some good advice
To help
I really would

To assist you in your journey
Make it a little easier
Try to do some good

Thing is
I’m no expert
Not by any stretch

I’ve meandered through
In an ad lib way
Taking things as they come

And I have not come up
With any useful tips or leads
That may be of assistance

Sorry bout that!

I never claimed to be a guru
I am getting old but none the wiser
Still just as baffled as I ever was
An off-the-cuff, shape-shifting soul-survivor
(Four hyphens - that’s auspicious!)

Full of questions with very few answers
A veteran novice, I guess you could say
Making constant minute adjustments
In a swirling state of delight, curiosity and dismay

No guru
No expert
No master
Just a guy waiting at the bus stop
Watching the traffic go by

I have said a lot of nothing much
I have travelled a long way to not arrive anywhere
Never settled
I’ve always wrestled
With the contradictions of existence
Tried to see beyond the systems
Lots of theories, observations
But very few answers
I take my chances
Doll the rice
And carry on

Doll the rice
Doll the rice
Doll the rice

I never claimed to be a guru
That doesn’t mean I am not cheering for you
Cause I am

Bit of yoo-hoo from the notaguru

Intro To Introspection

17/1/2018

Intro to introspection
The ad said
Would I like that
I asked myself

There was a picture of a fish
I was perplexed

Tempted to go along
Just to find out why
That had chosen such an image
To represent their course

It was an American Shad
I googled it

The next day on my way home
From ping pong
I decided to make mash potatoes

Then I went to the outdoor bar
Of a small motel
In an unusual neighbourhood
And had a martini

My pocket camera was low on battery
Depleted, actually
So I didn’t get a shot
Of the old man
Who fell off his stool
And somersaulted into the kiddie’s pool

But I did chat with him after
And he said it was refreshing
To meet someone
Without an iPhone

When he spotted my old Nokia flip
That I continued to use
For simplicity
And nostalgia
For not pictures, no video
Just an ancient ring
Like from a mythology
I would often choose not to answer

Because I couldn’t be bothered
So why even have it?

I did the course
And it was a waste of time
Apparently, I would never be a master

Unless I consider myself
One already

I forgot to ask about the fish

Listen Hear

7/1/2018

So I am sitting in the cafe working on a new poem.

And two ladies walk in and shuffle around with the waiter in tow, trying to decide on their destination table. They chose one close to mine, just a metre away.

It’s always interesting how the proximity to others will effect or not effect my writing flow.

Sometimes, I purposely don’t look at people, not more than a passing glance as they approach perhaps, so that I don’t have a detailed visual of them and thus can find it easier not to be distracted by them.

But sometimes, a certain voice, certain conversation - either it’s dynamic or content - will be hard for me to completely ignore.

A part of my brain analyses what I hear, the nuances, the emotions in the voices, the dynamic of the interplay between the players.

In this case, right now, these two are not overly distracting. They are reasonably somber and self contained. Some people do a bit of showing off in public - which I find irksome - others are more relaxed, discrete.

What I did notice though - without so much listening to the content of their words - was the ebb and flow of the conversation - the way that they each influenced each other’s mood and response.

It made me realise how any pairing of two people is going to be so completely different, depending on the individual energies. And how, if you were making a film, for example, the chemistry of the two players is so crucial. I suddenly realised just how much difference it makes. In the direction of the interchange, the dramatic levels, the mood.

They are talking a little softer now and with a more flowing to and fro.

Wait. No. One has gone silent for a while.

I like that. Means they are reasonably comfortable with each other. I can detect forced conversations and they are not rhythmically as pleasant. The slight unease is palpable.

I am not listening to. the actual sentences being said, their voices are of a reasonably low register, so it is almost a hum I am hearing.

I think it may be mother and daughter. I am not going to look. Sixty/forty it is, though. That kind of dynamic. One voice is definitely younger, the other offering advice like suggestions, it seems.

Other sounds I can hear are the traffic outside the window behind me, a low volume pop song from the far corner of the room, the shuffling of the sous chefs at the bench to my left, an occasional ‘bing’ from the bell when a dish is ready.

Some random snippets of conversation coming from people passing by outside. Cutlery crunches. The low hum of a bus engine. The clamouring lid of a large pot. The scrape of a wooden chair leg on the concrete. The tap of the espresso handle from the barristers corner. Plates ringing as they are stacked. Another chair is pushed along the floor, this time more vehemently. A small motorbike passes by, then another.

I have been studying music production for the last year and a half now, so I realise that I have been training my self to listen with more acuity. To accurately pick out select sounds and frequencies and to pay attention to them. This is part of what I do when making a song.

I just finished a new one today. It’s not mixed yet, but the main body is there. I like it. I like most of my new songs immediately after they are done. Generally speaking your latest is your favourite. Not always, though. Sometimes you will luck out and make a really beauty that stays at the top of the list for three, four, five songs forward.

I haven’t written much in these journal entries about my musical production. In some ways this is because it is so special to me. It’s a whole new area, a completely new domain for me to learn about and explore, create in. So I have kept it kind of sacred, been silent about it, not wanting to quantify or examine it because it is still precious and fresh. I haven’t wanted to dissect or discuss the process - just to get on with it and into it.

But now, after having finished probably fifty or sixty original tunes, I finally feel ready to release three or four into the world - make my debut as a musical artist.

I can listen to them and feel happy with them, that they represent who I am. I have by no means mastered the art of song production but I have found my own way through it to the point where the sounds that I am selecting, refining and juxtaposing into a coherent piece are an authentic representation of my feelings, my head space.

Through a mixture of dedication and focus, daily application and experimentation, I have found my groove, eased into a style that is uniquely mine, a sound that pleases me in it’s inventiveness and it’s sonic signature. And there is a coherence in the most recent pieces, the ones that I will release, that unites them harmoniously, even though they are individual tunes. This is a good thing, what I have been patiently aiming to achieve.

So, I am now almost at the first level of being a music producer. My first representational works are nearing release. It is exciting.

They won’t change the world. My expectations are realistic and humble. For me, the greatest pleasure is in the production itself. What happens with them, where they go and how they interact with the outside world is not up to me and quite honestly, is not my concern. I have been an artist and a writer of prolific output for four decades now and have yet to have even drawn the average of a standard wage from my creations if you add up my time spent and materials outlay. Whatever early fantasies I had of making money, or even a basic living from my art output, have dissipated completely. I am not being defeatist, just realistic. Self promotion has never been my strong suit. I like to just get on with making new things. It is likely, I could have been more financially successful if I had put the time in to translating my stuff into money, but it is not in my nature. So be it. So, I hardly expect any dollars flowing in from songs - not at any stage. And I am totally cool with it.

I am dedicated to creating new stuff. That’s what I do. Everyday. It’s what I am good at.

The ladies are still here, chatting away. They are slightly more animated now, aloft with their second caffeine shots.

I completely zoned out of them for a while there, when writing this. That’s what happens. That’s what I like about writing, making art, making music. That detachment, that immersion.

The blissful escape, the transcendence. Worth far, far, far more than money.

Reflection

1/1/2018

I wouldn’t say that I obsess about it. But it is something that my mind keeps returning to.

Like right now, I sit down at the cafe and pull out my iPad. Moments before it starts up, I catch my reflection in the glossy black screen face. Of course, I recognise the visage but, strangely, I am surprised by how old I am. I shouldn’t be. I should be used to it. But it still gets me. I certainly don’t feel the age of my appearance. In my mind, I am mid thirties - something like that. (Just a few decades younger than in fact.)

I know this is not an original topic and even a little boring. I have read articles along similar lines and don’t find them all that interesting anymore. (Except for one today about Walt Whitman - and how his love of nature was his sanctuary in his latter years.)

But this is different. This is me. I am going to keep writing just to see what, if anything, of interest reveals itself. I like to take lines of self inquiry sometimes and extrapolate. Delve in, peel away layers, sort through the stacks, wander down the corridors and see where they lead.

It’s interesting to wonder - wherever I end up getting to, thought-wise; will it be somewhere that already exists - you know, in there, my mind - or will it be something that could only have been created by following a particular thought paths? Do we pull things from the ether, out of nowhere? What are we accessing - is it fresh stuff or a collage, reconfiguration of pre-existing notions/concepts?

I can’t answer that, obviously. How the fuck would I know! But then, why not me? Somebody has to be the first to answer any puzzle. Existence doesn’t care about qualifications, prior knowledge, who it is doing the speculation. Everything is accessible to everyone. The only limits (in this domain) are self imposed. And why impose limits on one’s self?

I try not to. But, of course, I do. We all do. Fear and doubt and lack of esteem and courage lurk within us all. We are a never ending whirlpool of shifting head spaces, emotions. It always amazes me at how unruly my interior life is. And how constantly demanding. There were times in my twenties and thirties - actually, all through my life - when I have felt on the brink of losing control. Perhaps this is not unusual. Perhaps it varies person to person. On the flip side, my wildly oscillating mind and unpredictable spirit, gift me with a constantly flowing access to creative expression. The tap always works, I just turn it on and the flow is always strong.

Please don’t think that I talk about myself because I think I am great or special. Cause I don’t. I am a soldier in the trenches. I am one of the many. I don’t mind what you think, actually, because I don’t know who you are and it would all be biased speculation (on your part and mine) anyway. But I do feel compelled to point out that, in these speculative essays, I cast myself as a subject of interest. I have access to myself - so that is who I talk about.

I have always been interested in introspection - since about eight or nine years of age, I would say. I like quiet times. I like low activity because it allows internal observation and extrapolation. Is is just something to do, is anything actually ever achieved? I can’t say. It’s just my nature. And you gotta go with what you’ve got.

From about the age of fourteen I began to write a few of my thoughts down for amusement. The added benefit, I have since come to realise is that others, readers, may identify thoughts and qualities in themselves that are similar. Just like reading a horoscope. We all like the - ‘yeah, that’s me’ feeling of identification.

We like it because if makes things feel less random. It helps us believe that we belong. That there is a purpose. Perhaps even a meaning behind it all.

In my humble opinion, however, as desirable as this is - it is unlikely.

But the feeling (and it’s accompanying temporary comfort) is no less valid whether it be true or not. We do all kinds of things - in fact, most of what we do - is in order to connect, feel worthwhile, valued, or consequence.

Like I have said before we are fragile, volatile entities. And the journey itself is constantly different. We want to pin things down, draw conclusions - it’s part of our nature - but the truth is that everything is transient. Even our concepts of reality. Then, as we slowly, or quickly, change form, feelings, opinions, as we drift through an ever-altering landscape there are a few things we tend to grasp on to. We require a feeling of belonging, security, connection to others, peace of mind. We want to function within a limited paradigm - one that we can keep a grip on, feel like we are progressing (in some way) within. (And for most of us, at least at varying stages - this is possible. Temporary, but achievable.)

But when something takes us out of the box, when there is a sudden shift, or when we allow ourselves to acknowledge the actual complete lack of borders and the fact that we are functioning in a completely fabricated construct - partly by reality, partly by society and the rest by our own minds - then things get a bit more funky.

There are times that letting go and floating free is enjoyable (as long as you know you can get back to your comfortable construct again), and there are times when it is decidedly uncomfortable - ie. when everything is thrown up in the air and some of your favourite elements are suddenly no longer. Times like when someone you love dies, you are involved in an accident, or a part of your physical well being is distressingly compromised. These kinds of things send you into a funk.

Nothing like being in sudden danger of losing your life - that of a loved one or your most valued possessions - for you to realise just how much you value your life after all; despite it’s incessant challenges and niggling demands.

Anything has to be better than nothing.

We are ‘programmed’ to believe that. Otherwise, people would be early exiting all over the place.

So we struggle on. Questioning, contemplating, trying things, urgently attempting to satisfy our urges and needs.

When you get older, like 57 older for example, you think back to all the ups and downs you have experienced, the ecstasies and torments you have lived through, the loves found and lost, the younger versions of self that you so fully experienced - you think about all that and then when you see a reflection of your current self by chance - it all comes flooding in.

That’s me. That’s fucking me! This is me. But who am I? Still here - I can see - but so what? Is it going to be more of the same?

No, look - it won’t be the same - it can’t be. You are older now. The wild times that began in your teens and carried on through to your forties - they have waned most substantially. The wild times well, has, in fact, it seems, gotten down to distressingly low levels.

Limits are imposed upon you. Physical limits, at least. This has to be accepted, worked around. Thankfully, though, mentally you are stronger and clearer than ever.

I can still think about things. Get all up there with the speculation about things, with the extrapolations. I can write about the me of the present, in these fleeting moments and maybe capture something, somethings - like fireflies, butterflies, buzzy bees - not capture them to keep or cage - maybe not even capture but just grab at them. Do it to further come to know their simple yet complex beauty.

And I can ride on the coat tails of my previous endeavours, extract the essence, formulate theories, fabricate exaggerated tales (not that I do).

I care what I look like, how old I am - to the extent that if effects my behaviour, my options. But on other levels - it doesn’t matter. I have been lucky to have lived this long, gotten this far - and look - here’s evidence - I may have learnt something - however ephemeral, tenuous, speculative - something worthwhile.

I feel good, for the moment, in the moment. I am glad I have spent this time recording this. There are plenty of other things I could have done - but I gone done this. These words, these ideas punched out it a mini frenzy of thoughtful expression.

I have carved them on the cave wall, if you will. Maybe they will illuminate some thoughts and feelings amongst my fellow cave dwellers. Maybe someone will feel a little less alone, a little less freaked out in their own ageing, their own inner conflicts, state of mind. Maybe getting old really does bring some wisdom. If that is the word. (Sounds a bit fuddy-duddy.)

Could I have written this ten years ago?

Well, I didn’t. So now is now and what is is what is supposed to be. (Now I am just sprouting platitudes.) It is so all just speculation. But we so want it to be more than that! That’s what life is. That dynamic of input, interpretation and conclusion. We settle on something that will serve us.

There is no pinning it down. All systems are go. All the time. And what have I learnt from this outburst? Hmmmm...

My feeling now is that I will finish this short piece - my second coffee has just been consumed - get up - pack away my iPad, go for a walk and a swim (how lucky am I!) and carry on with the rest of my day.

Continue living out the pattern of my individual construct, enjoying the good bits and enduring the difficult. I will always be me, whatever age. I am used to it by now. Sure, once in a while, I will be surprised by the gap between what is and what I believe or feel, but, fuck it, who cares. I’ll likely be back here tomorrow before my swim, having another black brew, spitting out a fresh take on the deliciously devious and delightfully bewildering continuance we exist within.

Tomorrow, though, I’ll try not to catch a glance of my visage.

Meditations On Writing

25/12/2017

You can access alternative reality planes
Without the use of substances or drugs
Your mind has powers beyond the limit of your imagination
And when you journey towards the edges
You can peer over
Keep on going
Your choice
There is no limit
Go as far as you desire
In any direction
Beyond temporal, space constrictions
As far as your imagination desires

You can do it by reading, by just thinking
Daydreaming, meditation
Or you can do it by doing something creative
(And there are other ways, too; music, sports and science to name a couple)
But for now I will concentrate on writing

Because I have an intimate relationship with writing
I get lost in my writing sometimes
Quite often
I find myself again, always
Slightly changed
Renewed, redefined
Enigmatic the effect
Not tangible exactly
Not easily explainable
But I will try

By forming words to describe your headspace
You are actively sculpting
Something that you are not sure of
Your instinct and intuition guide you
After some practice
You just keep going
You move out of your own way
No judgement
No editing

Word after word
Become phrases, sentences, paragraphs
Then eventually you have something of substance
Something with meaning

May just be a description
May be a collection of opinions
May be an astute observation
Or a combination of them all

You get into a rhythm
You fingers syncopated with your breathing
Your blood euphorically pumping
Because it knows that you are leading
With your heart and mind
Creating
Something that your soul responds to

But also being lead
Somewhere
Somewhere different to where you started
A short distance from your your departure
But increasingly further the longer you continue

It is very much like going on a journey
Without physically going anywhere
It involves trust and exploration
Invention and imagination
What is coming up?
What’s next?
Impulsiveness and consideration go hand in hand
Personal opinion and universal understanding
Side by side
Integrated

There are moments of pause
Quick decisions, choices
Go this way or that?
Swerving, scaling, chasing...
It’s just a game
Best not to be too serious
About anything
But put your heart into it
Commit
And carry on

I like to write in cafes
Look up
In the moments in between
Get distracted momentarily
By a beautiful figure passing by
An alluring waltz in her step
Perhaps
A ragamuffin mutt
Distractingly cute
Or
You will pick up
A voice that can’t be ignored
The curious glance of a stranger
Soft toned enquiry from a waitress

Grab an instant out of reality
Integrate it, maybe
But usually not
Just dive back in to the river
Continue down the stream
How sweet it is to have access
To such a silky self created dream

I really do recommend it
To everyone, to all
It’s a wonderful, simple pleasure
No discipline at all, really
Just practice
Practice, practice
And more doing, doing, doing
But when it is like this
Something that you love so
It’s enlightening and rewarding

And how many things
Can you say
Provide you
With both of those at once?

Without getting to preachy
I do believe
That we need to aspire
As human beings
To loftier heights
We are born to explore, extend
Elevate ourselves and each other

And writing is such a simple
Magnificent
Process
Available to all
No rights or wrongs
Say what you want
The way you want
When you want and how you want

Whether or not
Someone will read it
Does not matter
The act itself offers the greatest pleasure
The purest reward

It allows you to ask the questions
To consider unthinkable options
To shake up existing notions
Pull the covers away from rustling theories
Buried deep beneath
A pile of daily distractions

It allows you to delve deep
To hypothesise
Envisage
Suppose

In some ways it offers
So much freedom
That it can seem overwhelming
So what to do?
Don’t worry
Start with anything
Just get going

As you carry on
You will discover
That what needs to be revealed
Will be

It’s mystical
It’s magic
Spirit is involved
Soul accessed

I am doing it right now
Nothing fancy

And I want to encourage you
To do the same
Write anything
Give yourself a chance
To discover the sweetest of nectars
A most noble of enterprises
An entree to self expansion

It’s exquisite
Let it take you
Where you may otherwise
Have never gone

Be You

17/12/2017

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.

The Lifetime Survivor’s Club

10/12/2017

Sometimes I burst out in tears
Life breaks me
I’m a big enough man to admit that

My vulnerability
Does not limit me

It unburdens
Like a release valve
A restorative soul salve

It seems

I have a susceptibility to suffering
Sensitivity to constriction
An aversion to tradition amplified by
A predilection to co-dependency and addiction

It’s never ending
Bending over black words
Blue moods
Frayed nerves
Feeling disturbed
Solemn, submerged
Sort of like slowly
Sinking
Slow burning

Too much thinking
Excessive entanglements
Periodic heavy drinking
Anything to escape, suppress
The murkiness, the mess
That surrounds me
Almost drowns me

Only so many metaphors
For depression

Not an easy lesson
Try not to stab myself with the biro
Not to sink below minus zero
Cold appeasement
Self withdrawal
Better treatment
An overhaul

It may sound like I’m being dramatic
Making it sound harsh and tragic
But this is no exaggeration

Yet neither am I an aberration
It gets us all
It just feels like I feel it more than many

Often and intensely
A darkness with density
A hereditary propensity
To spiral

Continually recovering
From some weird new affliction

Self discovery
Through trial and error

Over time
Acclimatised
To some degree
To this world
In all it’s melancholic splendour

An venerable
If temporary
Member
Of the Lifetime Survivor’s Club

Sharing the dubious honour
Of upholding and abiding by

The valour of surrender

On The Upswing

11/11/2017

Things are on the upswing
Feels like they’re getting better
Not just for me but for family and friends
Last year was a killer

Now a gradual easing of tightness
A gentle swing towards chilled
A subtle increase of brightness
A few simple wishes being fulfilled

It could just be coincidence
But it feels like something more
A shift in the paradigm
A hint of better times

On many levels the world is in a crisis
The powers that be are corrupt and malignant
To the disenfranchised, the many are banding together
To make a change, set some limits
Voice their aggrievment

No longer content to sit back in silence
We’re connecting, joining forces
To improve our social situation, our environment
Through unified opposition, new approaches, discourse

Things are on the upswing
Feels like they are improving
Despite blatant, crooked opposition
From the self serving dimwits ruling

There’s a groundswell
A shake up, happening
And just as well
We so desperately need a full rebalancing

Crisis point has been surpassed
In this current state we will not last
We need to celebrate our differences
Rectify injustices
Transform the gap in class
Spread the wealth more fairly
Jettison our useless government
Who does nothing but aggravate our ailments

Same old story
But it’s getting stale
Too many enduring
A protracted hellish
Existence

It’s time to push back
Show resistance
Release our true passions
With determination and persistence
Accept each other as we are
With equality and acceptance
To form a new and vital
Loving coexistence

Why Spoil Now?

14/10/2017

I’m going to let it roll
Play out as it will
There might be a few things to worry about
Coming up
But they aren’t here yet
And maybe they won’t come at all
Either way
Why spoil now?

Why spoil now?
Why spoil now?
Right this moment
In the sun
After a swim
Filling my lungs
With ocean air
Why should I care
About society’s woes
Timetables, demands, expectations
Things that enclose

I want liberators
Psyche shifters
Random joy bringers
Not exasperaters
Flow resistors
Serenity spinners

Why spoil now?
Why spoil now?

It’s going so well
In a rare and mellow
Mental continuum
With a vibe that’s just swell

Why spoil now?
Why spoil now?

Evict those intruding doubts
Before they get past the gate
They should be kicked in the ass
And sent on their way
Back to the vortex
Of latent worries and woes
Get rid of them fast
Don’t let them in or they’ll grow

Overtake
Take over
Swamp
Discompose you

A blanket no
To gratuitous distress
The bass of your soul
You want to play
Unplugged and fretless

Groove away
Move away
From angst
Remove the pressure
Take off your pants
Let go your past
Lay down your head
Surrender your mind
Do a total reset
And fear not the future

Why spoil now?
Why spoil now?

It might be as good as it’s going to be for while

So, why spoil now?
Why spoil now?

Like Life

24/9/2017

I was walking along Brunswick Heads beach late this afternoon. There were not many people about as it was nearing sunset and also quite windy. The wind was heading south, giving me a push as I walked towards Byron - not with the intention of going that far - nooo!, that’s way too far (for a daily constitutional) - just heading in that southerly direction.

Beach walks; always love them. A daily thing, regardless of weather conditions. Clears the head, good for ideas, good for sorting things out, good for the lungs and other equally impressive organs. (We have many.)

Why am I sharing this? Big deal, right?! A man goes for a walk on the beach…. At least I am not taking photos of my food and posting it. Or telling you about my dreams from last night. Or lamenting about a bad break up.

But is there a point to this verbal stroll? Yes.

As I was walking back, in the last few kms, I passed a small group of teenagers ambling in the direction I had just come from with the wind at their backs, enjoying the water, the shore, the openness.

And walking past them with the strong wind resisting my advancement, I considered the metaphor between the walk there and back and life itself. The first half you have the wind behind you, momentum. On the walk back you are pushing against it. It’s not as easy.

The youngsters don’t know the difference. Not until they reach the turn around point. Then it becomes apparent.

It’s like life. Is there any point in advising them, that their return trip is not going to be as effortless, I wondered briefly. They won’t be aware. Like I wasn’t on my way downwind. I may have even shortened my journey south if I had known how up against it the journey back was going to be, comparatively.

And then I wondered; would I like to be heading downwind again. And the answers was no. Because you just have to come back again.

Like life. You move on, move forward. It becomes more challenging but you keep going. Even if you could go back - why would you? You’ve got to face what is happening where you are at when you are there.

No escape. No point in lamenting. Head down, face to the wafting opposition of nature and move forward. Where to? The next challenge. Is there any other way? No.

Like life. Just keep going.

What I would have appreciated, though, when I was in my downwind segment of my life, would have been to have realised this - what I have just said - and appreciated the comparative easiness and natural boost of youth. It’s been said before, by many. And I probably did read it more than a few times back then. But, really, you can’t fully get it until your time comes and you experience it. It’s just the way it is. Ironic. Youth is wasted on the young, was the quote I remember. Not wasted, but, you know, would've been good to have been able to save a bit for later.

Not lamenting, just observing. If you get me now, if you are on your own walk back, you’ll understand.

And if you are still in the first part of the journey, heading with the wind behind you - enjoy it! Savour it! Be free!

Between Havoc and Implosion

3/9/2017

Gotta make blunders to find wonders
Gotta screw up to get in touch
You gotta go the wrong way
More than once
To learn the right ways
To overcome adversity
It’s a real world perversity
That it has to be this way

Pretty clear
Yeah
What I am saying

Everyone loves the underdog
Because everyone has been that pup
That struggles just to continue
That labours to get up

Sometimes
It’s a ruthless fight
An endless road
The long and listless, dark and dire night
A heavy load
A wounding blight

That’s all she wrote
Cause she’s lost her pen
Her computer broke
Then she got shot
After a random stop
By a grim and sinister policeman

It happens a lot more than you think!

It’s a crazy world
You know it
Can be savage and unmerciful
The passage through
Can get hysterical
And not in the funny way
Like Monty Python
Or Curb

It’ll leave your best laid plans vagrant
In disarray, scattered and shat on
Leave you standing there
Naked, bloody, broken
Stupefied
In stunned dismay
Like the rest of us
Almost completely unqualified

I got no answers
This is just a mildly pacifying poem
I wrote to pass the time
Give me a little breather
Between havoc and implosion

Living Lavishly In Unlikelihood

21/8/2017