A late late late night shooting the shit with an old friend of mine. He went to Afghanistan and survived. Enough said. He’s a different guy to the one that joined the army 4 years ago, that’s for sure. Still a great friend.
He’s certainly made of sterner stuff than I.
Four years in ‘blokes world’. Just how?
“Please god make me a stone”

Since returning home; this has felt like a bit of a reunion week. All my old pals.
Catchups galore. Too many facts, facets and faces the fanciful furore. Time apart has charged our curiosities. Lives, worlds apart. Catchups! Adventures, emotions and relationships all ripe and ready to be picked apart and explained. Such an audience! Such fun. Its really great to be back.

My finest student? A young man, physically perfect. To look upon him was to see a duellist by any other measure. His discipline was a source of awe; his form was elegance personified. He could snuff a dozen candles in successive lunges, each lunge identical to the one preceeding it. He could spear a buzzing fly. Within two years I could do nothing more for him for he had passed my own skill.
I was, alas, not there to witness his first duel, but it was described to me in detail. For all his talent, his perfection of form, for all his precision, his muscle memory, he revealed one and only one flaw.
He was incapable of fighting a real person. A foe of middling skill can be profoundly dangerous, in that clumsiness can surprise, ill-preparation can confound brilliant skills of defence. The very unprdictability of a real opponent in a life and death struggle served my finest student with a final lesson.
It is said the duel lasted a dozen heartbeats. From that day foreward, my philosophy of instruction changed. Form is all very well, repetition ever essential, but actual blood-touch practice must begin within the first week of instruction. To be a duellist, one must duel. The hardest thing to teach is how to survive.
– A beautiful passage by Steven Erikson.

“Learn by doing” I say.

Farewell Melbourne.

Its been a year and a little more, since I moved from Edinburgh to Melbourne.
The change was dramatic, but I weathered it. Finding a house with my best friend Mitch and a rather aloof, severe young woman. Its been a learning experience for me this 365 days just gone. Indeed!
Working full-time in hospitality, managing, rent paying (by god.. Rent), and trying my very best to stay true to myself.
“Live life, the freedom of an adult and the adventurous mentality of a child.” – I didn’t realise how much of a rut I got myself into for a vast majority of the time.

Three things:
– I am people person, I have so much energy and time for everyone. Except for coming off the back of a 10hour day of talking to strangers whilest making them coffee. That “uppy-downey rollercoaster” is very much at the ground when i’m done working for the day. Visits from my best friend were seen often as an invasion.
Downtime needed. Early nights: required. Peace. Quiet.

-I worked with my friends. So after a long week, did I really feel like going out and meeting new people with my work collegues? What are we going to talk about? I spend 30 hours a week having a laugh with them in a relaxed cafe. Too much, much too much.

-And finally, rent was expensive! The house was situated in 10 minutes from any public transport, I got the small room, my housmates rarely made the effort for socail interaction, friendly gestures. I lost my sense on family, and I paid for it.

All things come in 3’s I suppose.
So my lease is up, what do I do? I go home.
Goodbye beautiful, hip and happening Melbourne!
Tasmania will be my port of call once again. I have so many relationships to re-kindle. So much alone time to catch up on. My family! My soul, has vastly overstretched feeling; maybe if I lay down for a week i’ll re-semble into a more compact version of myself. Trim the fat. Have a genuine smile and un-sunken eyes.

People to see. Unpacking to do.
And eventually my old bedroom to make new and welcomming all over again.

In my own time ofcourse. Did I need to be somewhere 30 minutes ago?
Do I have time for boiled eggs? I think i’ll walk today: And every day.
Time taken to move at your own speed is time well spent.

I’ve got my list of things to do. Today and on.

I head to Tasmania tomorrow to start my university studies.
My brain and its tendrils will be as 2minute noodles, left in water far too long.

In the early morning I got up.
As did my team! 1-0 to the blues.

Awoke again on the mid day chime,
Had breakfast, exercised
And packed bags.
In my own time.

I had a list of things to do,
Slowly at first I ticked each box.
Then finally left was but a few!
Tick then tock, sorted my socks.

Rode my bike, to the city.
Dinner! Time to meet a bitty!

Home again,
I did some art.
Painted a globe all black,
Tore up my scrabble board.
Washed my hands.
Stood back and thought.
In all the lands,
Is this naught?
The eye of beholder
Should we fear
Could this be bolder
What i’ve done here.

Later that night
I’d pierce my ear.
Similar paint as Van Gogh might.
Hear ‘ear.

I spoke with dad recently and asked him why he wanted to visit a country he’d already visited.

His answer was this:

“I may have seen the sunrise, but I would like to see it again”.

I’m burning up. Tonight’s effort, fond farewells, hugs, kisses, goodbyes, plans made, promises, handshakes, forced conversation, idol phone handling, suggestions, ideas. Group situation closed. Spent

“If I could spend more of my life asleep i’d be a happier person”.

PFD

Gumtree magic tonight.
Inspired!

A half way to productive day either.
Not quite there, granted. But I put up some ads and went to the beach after work.
Got some sun and some fish and chips.
Then poetry and finally just before bed I ate some cheese and had a small glass of milk.
Welcome to cheesedreamland. WoooooOOOoooo.

Here’s another brilliant M. Leunig poem:

In Menswear
He shot a brightly coloured sportscoat
With his trusty bow.

He harpooned
A large, fat couch
In the furniture department.

He clubbed
A pop-up toaster
In the electrical section.

With his bare hands
He fought a king-sized quilt
In Bedding

He cast his net in footwear
And caught
A magnificent pair of slippers.

He was a hunter.
He was a provider
He was a MAN.

Today! Today was good. Started late, with a touch of drizzle.

Had a morning coffee and caught up with my boys. My infected leg wasn’t going to give me too much trouble and I was well rested.

Before long my day was done, I ate a salad, went home, threw together a 10 minute red curry and went to catch up with my brother Jon; something i’ve neglected to do these past few months I feel. A good chat, to the point. Then off to the pool-hall to hang out with my old poker pals. Leaving an hour later, undefeated. What more can I say.  A short bike-ride home, a nibble at dinner. A quick call to the sister. Some leg drugs. And an email: my confirmation letter from uni and a timetable. I’m set! 2015. Great.

Here’s a Michael Leunig:

All men are bastards.

We will fight for equality

Until

All women are bastards too.