The night before packing...

Oh the wind whistles down
The cold dark street tonight
And the people they were dancing to the music vibe
And the boys chase the girls with the curls in their hair
While the shy tormented youth sit way over there
And the songs they get louder
Each one better than before

And you're singing the songs
Thinking this is the life
And you wake up in the morning and you're head feels twice the size
Where you gonna go? Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna sleep tonight?

~ Amy Macdonald

A year in an hour

The lady seems friendly, she clambered into the coach with her large suitcase then tried to sit down next to an English lady who bluntly said ‘Umm, no I’m getting off at the next stop’ (in 20 min time). She asked me if Newbury was the following stop, so I told her I’d make sure she gets off at the right town. Once we’d arrived she asked me, in broken English with a Latvian accent, for directions to “King Burger?!”. Ahhh, Burgerking, yeah it’s just up the hill … with that big suitcase, righto - here’s my dad, we’ll give you a lift.

So we drive to Burgerking, wait in line then ask if her son is working there. No. “Tatenda” I say to the Zimbabwean manager. He gives me the ‘sharp’ gesture!
She gets out her address book, King Burger Chivley.
Oh, Chievley! So we drive there, no fastfood shops in sight. Then I remember a good cup of coffee I’d once had at the motorway services centre, and I vaguely remember a Burgerking there. So we drive there, ask around and …

She spots her son. He spots her. Tears appear in her eyes. He puts his head in his hands and mutters something about it being crazy. Hugs. More hugs. Happiness!
We walk to the car to fetch her bag and she tries to pay us ‘£20 oil’. Hah, no chance, I tell her the experience of seeing her reunited with her son was priceless.

It’s been a crazy year for me. I’ve never been so lost as I was at the beginning of this year. On the night before I left Edinburgh I remember sitting in my flat, no lights on, lying on the floor with my head inches away from the stereo… listening to this song over and over. And knowing that things were about to change …

And they have!

Wooohooo. Yippeee. Wah wah Wah!

I’ve learnt to live with much uncertainty and thrive on it. I’ve met so many amazing characters, visited different towns … and received so many Christmas cards - thank you!!! And most importantly, I’ve discovered my family and friends again. What a pleasure that has been.
Like all parent child relationships there are moments when I want to ring my parents necks, and them mine. My mother still worries too much, and my dad still doesn’t say much … but hey, my parents are indeed my heroes! New places are an adventure for me, but my folks had to walk away from their lives and have started again. Not exactly fun, but they’re doing it - like many other Zimbabweans.

I don’t miss Zimbabwe, or Edinburgh, but I am so thankful for what they have provided me with … and from Zimbabwe it’s the ability to ‘make a plan’ no matter the circumstances.

Photography. My passion. I bought the camera that I’d looked at last year and thought ‘wow’. I’ve got weddings booked and am doing freelancing for an entertainment company in Reading. I’m getting paid to quite literally have fun!!! Thanks to Brian Sweeney for just being him, a real inspiration to me, and to Jennifer Gough-Cooper for letting me stay at her wonderful home and introducing me to the works and words of Auguste Rodin!

Thank you to everyone who’s told me that they miss my old blog. I have continued to write, though it’s all scribbled down on paper. Most of it would bore even Plato. Philosophy, lots and lots of it, I am an old soul.

So, blah di blah di blah!

I wish you all a wonderful Christmas … wherever you are, whoever you’re with it will be wonderful If you have the Christmas spirit.

Merry Merriment x

Step by step by step by ......

I do know that craft, if you pursue craft, will return you again and again to this creative state. To pursue the craft means to endeavor to bring together the intention of the mind to the hand, and an invitation to feeling -- an invitation to a new kind of feeling.

~ Nicholas Hlobeczy

Nevermind the lift...

Or the wheelchair. Can I have a helicopter please?

Wonderful...

I watched the movie August Rush yesterday, it's sweet, hence the song...

When I moved to Newbury I was looking at the local photographers' websites and came across one which, I thought, had superbly composed photographs. So, keeping with my rule of if you have something to say then say it, I emailed the photographer and told him. He replied with thanks, as Amateur Photographer magazine had just said that that particular aspect was not his strongest point. Anyways, Ben Mostyn has since moved to New York, we haven't met, but we write to each other in emails, and he continues to inspire me...

You are blurred

We run about, making ourselves feel more important than we really are ... more empowered. I like finding a spot, which is out of the way, and watching the world go by. Realising that it has and will continue on, whether I'm playing the game or not.

Enveloped

Around where

They stood at the end of my bed like doorkeepers, ensuring I was safe from the world. Two figures, one slightly larger than the other, maybe one was a man and the other a woman. I was unsure ... was it only in my head? No. They were there, I felt them like that were alive, like the release of their breath pressed upon me. In an act of welcoming them, I held out my hand to them. Suddenly the square room became a dome, a place of worship. The ceiling circled above me and colours and shadows swept the walls. One of them took my hand in theirs, a weightless and wispy handsake. It made me smile, and utter "Thanks".

And that was that.

I leaned over and pressed skip on the CD player...

'Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog
Where no one notices the contrast of white on white
And in between the moon and you the angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
I walk in the air between the rain through myself and back again
~ Where? I dont know'

Long days spent on cafe couches

Raindrops on roses and coffee at Costa,

Bright coloured photos, and make that a mocha.

White plastic packages filled up with books.

Serve me please - the man with the looks!

Red-woven hats and a crisp almond pastry,

Mothers and children all chattering to me.

Fat swans that wait with the sun on their wings;

.... These are a few of my favorite things!

There's a lot to learn from Nature

Take a group of blind people and introduce them to an elephant. Get them to feel the elephant. One will touch the trunk. One will discover the legs. Another the belly. Another the tail. One the tusks. Etc. Now ask them to discuss it. They will argue until the elephant cow comes home.

That’s what I think people do in society. We have free will but we rarely use it. We stick to what we know, but I’m not sure if it’s option … what you inherit genetically and culturally can’t be replaced. Can one ever truly grasp the thoughts and customs of other cultures? Will it always be a slight mystery with some excitement and misunderstanding? We shouldn’t argue these things. Maybe should be humble enough to work together.

The path to creativity

I stopped and knelt down like a blind person would do. There was space surrounding me, space to my left, more to the right and nothing infront of me. A simple silence was all that I heard. I sat. I sat and I stayed still. Nothing happened, the air was weightless. Still silent. And that was when I realised I was alive, yes, very truly alive. What I had just discovered was my mind's very own playground.

Memories are my treasure

I arrived late, alighted from my National Express carriage and found a seat to rest my cramped limbs. The bus station was abuzz with Scotsmen shouting drunkenly. A man, sounding like an Australian, sat down opposite me. "Hello". "Hello". He wasn't Australian, he was born in London but had gained 18 years of a Texas hint. He said he'd missed his bus. I commented on how comfortable the cold metal chairs would be and chuckled. He said I had a bad sense of humour for laughing at other people's suffering, then he winked. We talked. He said he wanted to meet a girl, go out and just have a fun time. I hoped it would happen for him. He wanted that girl to be me. I would have liked that girl to be me, but somewhere along the way the time-keeper had got things wrong. He took my hand and kissed it. He said he hoped we would meet again, in the next life, when the clockmaker will be more efficient, and he asked if I'd like to meet him there? After a short gasp, I asked the same question to my heart? "Yes, I would. I really would." He told me if we both wanted it to happen then it would happen. Another kiss on the hand, and a farewell. I watched him walk away, and before going out of sight, he turned around, our eyes locked, causing my lips to smile. That moment lasts forever. But it was over so quick. He was gone.

And in walked my friend who oblivious to what had happened. Life grabbed my hand that had just been kissed and it marched on.

Deep in the forest

One decadent December day, Johhny was on his way to visit his mother. Monsters line the path, some named Greed and Fear, others Envy and Worry. They clawed at the poor boy, their fangs piercing his skin. But every once in while he'd spot a small opening where the sun shone through, where the greenery glowed and the air was scented with Glade freshness. Johhny would stop in these places, lie back, feeling the moist emerald moss cushioning his body into the earth. And he'd relax, freely allowing himself to be part of nature for a while. Deer would wander past, not fearing him in the slightest. Bees buzzed by, but Johhny didn't mind, afterall he was in their home. He'd fall asleep and dream of sweet maidens, dancing and singing, loving and caring, playing and giggling. He dreamt and the dreamt, but nothing was remembered once he'd awoke. Then one day a real maiden slowly walked into the forest, stopping to smell every humble flower along the way. He was spellbound.

And so the story goes, happily ever after.