La Via da Qui

First ride on my new road bike, a Giant Defy 2 (2014). It was SO much easier than kicking along on my old hybrid. Felt like I hardly had to work at all, most of the way. So...why did it take me the same amount of time to get home, while burning the most calories I have ever burnt, with the highest heart rate I've had since I was in my early 20s?? I don't know! Maybe the sea breeze was harder. Maybe I'm just out of form (it is the first time I have ridden home against the sea breeze this year). Maybe it was because it was so hot. Maybe I pushed myself too hard passing a guy along the freeway - twice! (He took off past me again both times - obviously doesn't like being beaten by a girl. I laughed and figured if he needs to pass me to feel like a big stwong boy then he can have it, because all I was doing was seeing how fast my new bike can go.) I usually pace myself along there but didn't bother today. I suppose I was also a lot more cautious, given that I was ...

There are two paths ahead. (Only two?) Do you take the path of never knowing? No. You step onto the wide, green, sweet smelling path that is lined with flowers and water. Nourishing, beautiful, wide enough to spread your arms. It ambles away into the distance becoming steadily darker, less certain, leading you slowly towards a jagged cliff face and nowhere to turn back. You know this, but still you move forward, for you can see an exit just up ahead, open and safe and clear. Past lessons tell you that it will not be so clear by the time you arrive. It will be overgrown, lined with brambles and thorns, branches that scratch at your eyes and heart and whip your legs until they are almost too weak to carry you forward. A hard path to walk. A high price to pay. But you'll walk it with such strength and love and light in your heart, such jubilation at your bravery and memories so feather-light that you are sure they will lift you through the thorns and sail you into the clo...

Floorboards: old, dusty, the white gravel/sand from outside has trodden its way in. Nobody in here speaks and the silence is meditative, broken only by the scritch-scratch of pencils, crayons, charcoal scampering across the textured pages of people’s sketch pads. The walls are adorned with black and white drawings and Ella, our model, lies in repose in the room's centre. She is beautiful. The has long golden hair that catches the light, fanning from her crown in disarray. Her eyebrows are dark and expressive, framing her long dark lashes and arching towards each other above her delicate little snub nose. Her lips are a deep rose that is echoed in her areolae. The light rests on her skin, allowing the encroachment of soft shadows over her stomach, onto her thighs, between her fingers and around the flare of her nostrils. An orange ring sparks with a bright point of brilliance, as though it is the true light source of the room. She is delicate, quiet, relaxed, and her childish ...

Taken from an article at the Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/feb/01/top-five-regrets-of-the-dying 1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me. "This was the most common regret of all. When people realise that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honoured even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made. Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it." 2. I wish I hadn't worked so hard. "This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children's youth and their partner's companionship. Women also spoke of this regret, but as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the ...

This time last year I was in Ireland. It's the part of my trip that I reflect on the most - Ireland sank into my skin and hasn't left me since. I think I will forever look back on it as one of the most beautiful, joyful times of my life. This year, I am at work after a refreshing 2 weeks spent with family and friends. NYE was no better or worse than usual, but a last minute decision to go to Tijuana Cartel 2 days later was the saving grace of the NY weekend. They were fantastic, energetic and fun. As the first post of the year, it seems sensible to make note of a few of my hopes for the year ahead. I'm trepidatious in that I can hardly imagine 2010 being as wonderful as 2009 was, but it's early days yet and life has a way of handing out pleasant suprises to those who are paying enough attention to spot them. I hope I can: manage to write here at least once a week. It changes the way I see the world. continue to build a career that is challenging but also rewarding. sate...

It's a long time between updates. This doesn't mean that nothing happens, rather that so much has been happening and I've been living it and loving it, rather than writing about it. Winter has hit Perth since my last post. From my office I can watch the rain beat against the glass and bounce from the rooftops. The cold weather lets me draw my various coats around me and they are as warm as my new post-travel life. I wear high shoes to step through puddles and spend my money and time on things I don't need but greatly appreciate. I have new suits, new heels, new furniture and new friends. The commonest events, the every day minutiae, they make life matter. Lately the commonest events have been evenings throwing balls for a dog at the beach while the sun drops out of the sky, warm scarves to combat the frigid air, parties with old old friends that turn into happy chaos, new curtains and sheets that transform my room, washing the dishes while someone kisses my neck, c...