Tabula Rasa - De Wilde

Photo

Thu, 01 Dec 2011 00:28:39 +1000

Tears for Fears...

Thu, 18 Aug 2011 04:42:00 +1000

I’ve had countless conversations with dear friends about how at different times we’ve lacked direction and been afraid that we’re wasting our lives away. Our fear… that we were wasting our time, terminally lost in a transient state but never really moving onto the next step in our lives.

We’d gripe and moan about how unfair it all seemed, like the universe was somehow conspiring against us. But the glaring truth is … our lack of direction, our indecision was all because we were afraid of making the wrong choice. Some of us were even depressed by our aimlessness and barely made it out alive.

I pondered on all this as I sat there alone, in the parking lot at work, staring at the pale green wall overwhelmed by an acute loneliness. Maybe it was the night air, but a keen chill slithered over me and when I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror I didn’t recognise who I saw.

It was in those blurry moments I decided to make some serious changes.

Eddie. It was time to let go. The excitement between us would get me through the days but it would never be enough for either of us. Our delicious intrigue helped us bear the mundanities of work and social propriety but it also held us back. It was also the most selfish thing I’ve ever done, and in a way I’d never thought possible.

That night I wrote a letter saying I couldn’t carry on with the way things were, what was happening between us never made sense and it wasn’t fair. I told him I couldn’t just coast along piggybacking on his relationship. His fiancée would never hear anything from me and she deserved his love completely. I wrote, lastly, I would remember him always.

I left the letter on his doorstep. And that, was that.

I sometimes regret it, but had I tried to say any of it to him face to face - I would have changed my mind.

I cried for two days, mourning the lost connection I’ll never get back. But, when my heart slowed and my breath returned, everything seemed better. Clearer.

People sometimes underestimate the value of a good all-out cry. The sweet overpowering relief as the tensions and stresses of the world pour out of you in a comforting stream of salty-sweetness.

For some reason we fight back the tears and then wonder why. Just when we think we’ve triumphed over our emotions, how come we don’t feel any better for it.

As a dear friend always tells me “It’s ok to feel whatever you feel. Cry, scream, or yell - do whatever you have to do.”

We sometimes trap ourselves in our own way of thinking and can’t find anything else. The challenge we present ourselves becomes cyclical there’s no end in sight.

The only thing truly stopping us, from letting go and relinquishing our self control long enough to let the tears flow, is fear.

If you’re stuck, choose to act on the changes you need. Accept your fear. Choose to feel, to cry and maybe you’ll find the measure of clarity you need to move forward. Choose your life.

Through Tears, in Hope

jenbekmanprojects: 20x200 SUMMERSTOCK Stop making sense!...

Thu, 18 Aug 2011 02:18:16 +1000

jenbekmanprojects:

20x200 SUMMERSTOCK Stop making sense! Today’s featured prints: “Nonsensical Infographic No. 1” + “Nonsensical Infographic No. 2” by Chad Hagen. Get the $50 14x11s for $30, now till 8 pm or sold out! Or, take $20 the framed versions. This is Day 5 of our 15 Days of Deals—check in with us tomorrow and save on work from a different artist.

Video

Wed, 17 Aug 2011 00:11:57 +1000

julienfoulatier: Painting by Peter Stämpli.

Tue, 16 Aug 2011 22:17:03 +1000

julienfoulatier:

Painting by Peter Stämpli.

Coulda... Woulda... Shoulda... but didn't. (fiction)

Tue, 16 Aug 2011 21:26:00 +1000

I must say things are moving along much more smoothly in life, there’s less angst, fewer lies, no sneaking around and a lot more of everything else. It’s a strange sensation really. Like a suffocating fog has been lifted. All this is because Eddie is gone.

However, the severing of our connection I must write about later, as I’m not quite ready to share that much about it just yet. There’s still some clarity to be found… to say the least. I must say flying solo isn’t too much different to when he and I were “together”, the more noticeable difference being there’s just a lot less sex. I suppose that realisation in itself is confirmation enough that I did the right thing. More on that at a later date.

Only a few weeks following that train wreck, during another one of my late night net surfing sessions, I was greeted with an instant message from the likes of my brother’s best friend Nate and funnily enough a lengthy and very truthful chat ensued. It’s delightful how confessions make for such intriguing material. We’re all such suckers for indecency and intrigue.

It started out innocently enough with chitchat about movies and various creative projects we’ve been working on, me with my various scratchings and blogs, and him with his number of multimedia creations. The minutes dwindled away and the next thing I knew it was the early hours of morning. It was about that time we’d finally arrived at the topic we’d evidently both been wondering about.

I have to say the wonders of technology may be super handy in the ways of research and keeping in touch with loved ones, but they’re also just another portal through which trouble can find you. Or is it just me…? I sincerely hope not.

Last summer Nate had come to stay with my brother and me, for about a week, it was a surprise for mon frere’s birthday. Over the first few days we’d spent some time together whilst, Anson, my brother-dearest was busy with work slash study commitments and in that time I’d begun to feel that familiar magnetic pull. The strange gravity which I’ve never really been able to name, though I know it so well. At the time I put it down to a proximity-crush (ie: the crushes you get when that particular someone is always around). Even though I practically chewed his ears off about all my Eddie-related woes, I doubt he realised I was also “checking him out”. What can I say I’m a multitasker - efficiency is my game. From then on we were on sporadic speaking terms, chatting online whenever one or both of us was bored and felt the need to talk to someone. Our only real connection was my brother, now that I think about it. I can’t quite figure out at which point it all changed.

The party was a swirl of neon orange-red lights, fiddly finger-food and booze. Surrounded by so many people I didn’t know other than Nate and my sister Lane, it was hard to find any kind of natural rhythm and connection to what was going on. As hard as we tried to intermingle with the chic clique gathering of my brother’s group, it was just down right tedious to be honest.

The music was blaring and swallowed us whole, amber fluids and other sweet libations drained down our excited throats and tempered our better judgements. As we danced I couldn’t distinguish between my heartbeat and that of the aural magnificence pouring out of the speakers, the tempo saturated the air and clung to my skin. The same drawing feeling as before flared up and moved my body closer and closer to Nate’s. My mind, on the other hand, screamed for me to run the other direction. The scratching voice rattled around in my skull and no matter how many intoxicants I imbibed, it would not leave me be. My mind, unfortunately for me, has always had a knack for ruining a perfectly good time.

For fear of the repercussions, more specifically the very possible unhappy reaction of Anson, I kept a reasonable distance from Nate… well for the most part anyway.

For a few moments I’d lost myself to the beat and pulsing energy, Nate’s hand wrapped at my waist, and not so suddenly the electrified sensation of our bodies pressed together. My conscience piped up louder than before. STOP STOP STOP - NOT AGAIN. So as subtly as I could manage, I hastily yelled out to a couple of family friends that showed up late and together we made our way outside. In the beer garden we’d seated ourselves and began to suck down some death sticks. Of course, I invited Nate to come along, it would have been not to - right? The look of disdain on his face, as I put the cigarette to my lips, still makes me chuckle. Strangely enough moments later he plucked the smoke from my fingers and put it to his mouth. The hypocrite. I, also, couldn’t help but notice the slightest flick of the tip of his tongue - I wondered if he tasted the lipstick.

We sat there cracking jokes, shooting clever quips and chatting away happily about our transient jobs and various dalliances with the opposite sex. It was rather short-lived and only twenty minutes or so before the others, having had their fill of ‘fresh air’, decided to head back inside.

Once again I found myself dangerously close to Nate. Maybe it was the feeling of the liquor fizzing beneath my skin, or even just the sweet ambient night. He stood to my side, things like “saying we should go,” and “Anson might be looking for us” - The messages were conflicting. His words said ‘we should leave’ but he didn’t make any move towards the door and he didn’t seem to be in sincerely as much of a hurry as the others. I remember thinking “It would be so easy. If I could just pull him in close enough”. The air was heavy I stayed seated, and took just a moment or two before forcing myself to go in after them.

Damnit. Damnit. Damnit.

Photo

Sat, 30 Jul 2011 13:04:46 +1000

sorry for the absence kids… update impending.

Sat, 30 Jul 2011 11:48:34 +1000

sorry for the absence kids… update impending.

Not alone.

Sat, 11 Jun 2011 19:48:16 +1000

lizalove:

I have learned now how to be on my own.

I am not alone, and I am not lonely, I am comfortable being on my own.

I am happy in the knowledge that I can support myself and I can look after myself and I can rely on myself.

Its comforting and exciting.

Tick tock…

Sat, 30 Apr 2011 03:02:26 +1000

Tick tock…

Photo

Mon, 25 Apr 2011 23:44:54 +1000

The Beatles. Amen.

Mon, 25 Apr 2011 22:08:53 +1000

The Beatles. Amen.

I didn’t know how to succinctly say how my Easter weekend...

Mon, 25 Apr 2011 04:07:55 +1000

I didn’t know how to succinctly say how my Easter weekend was, luckily I found this.

18mm: Japanese Maple (by sue olson)

Sun, 24 Apr 2011 23:18:55 +1000

18mm:

Japanese Maple (by sue olson)

The Odd Occasion...

Fri, 22 Apr 2011 23:30:00 +1000

The air was cool and the stars seemed brighter. Everything was very still, strangely so, not a trace of wind. The party was swirling around and the liquor disappeared far too quickly down our eager gullets.

We sat and talked about life’s little injustices and all we saw wrong in the world. Like teenagers we knew everything, but in reality knew nothing at all. We sat and felt we knew the truths of the world and how everything worked.

There was no special occasion, the party was simply for the sake of it.

I spent the better part of the evening in my usual manner, chatting (albeit a little uncontrollably), and watching the invisible chemistry. The pulsating energy in the space between bodies was hypnotising. I especially liked the little tells, the tiny silent communications everyone was broadcasting without even realising.

For a fleeting moment it felt as though I were living an episode of National Geographic. I watched in quiet amusement and imagined a deep and articulated voice-over in my head (no, it wasn’t an auditory hallucination) as I continued to watch everything play out.

One of the females (Beta) is competing with the others for the attentions of the younger attractive males. Notice the change in her posture as they come into the entertainment space - she draws attention to her bare legs and her cleavage. She is constantly drawing attention to herself in one way or another. Also, if you listen carefully, her voice pitch becomes slightly higher and in conversation her quips are loaded with sexual innuendo.

A few hours later the evening seemed sweeter and everyone was nicely inebriated, lubricated and joyously engaged in conversation. I was glad to be there, I hadn’t been out in a social setting for a long time and forgotten how enjoyable it could be. More to the point, I forgot how good it felt simply to be around others just to enjoy their company. When I finally stopped acting like some kind of wannabe anthropologist, I struck up a conversation with the other women in the circle we’d formed. They were mostly older than I, but to my surprise we had similar views on many subjects.

Meanwhile, Beta was flitting about the garden like a young girl trying to impress the older boys with all her dancing and dallying about. Her attentions seemed focused on the more handsome of the two men, Charlie. Whenever he spoke to her she’d touch her hair or find some way/reason to touch him. He and Leo were entertained by her antics, though it didn’t last very long, they soon grew tired of her attention seeking. As their focus slowly diverted from her onto others, Beta’s voice got louder, while her displays grew bolder. Ultimately she resorted to blatant showing off by falling to the ground doing the splits, then trying to entice Charlie and Leo’s baser appetites with allusions to acts of lesbianism between her and one of the other girls, Nina. It wasn’t too long after that Charlie and Leo grew bored with that too.

Soon after they started chatting with me, and from what I could tell it was only because I chose not to pay them any mind unlike Beta. Charlie in particular unleashed a barrage of questions to initiate conversation.

Now watch as the alpha male non-verbally signals to the other female he’s singled her out as his most desired of the group. He offers her drink as a gesture of interest but doesn’t take her refusal as rejection, but rather as encouragement to try harder.

The cheese and crackers were gone, the wine bottles laid empty on the grass and the neighbours slammed their windows in anger. At that point it was a choice for us to either shut it all down or move it elsewhere. We moved it next door to a kind (and eccentric) couple’s balcony. There we mused some more about our troubles, the evils and importance of tequila, and together wished out loud for life to be easier.

Then came the moment when the music came on and for a little while at least we got lost in awe. Bob Dylan, a classy choice by our new gracious hosts. Beta started up again with her flouncing about, no one paid her any mind, much to her frustration.

Feeling the slow creeping onset for the need of sleep I took myself to the kitchen for some water.

Ah, one of the females has separated herself from the group. And, like an animal hunting for prey in the wild see how the male stealthily closes in on her.

I had my back turned for a moment, rummaging through the cupboards for a glass, and from out of nowhere Charlie appeared. I was rinsing the glass out in the sink when I felt his hands on my hips, suddenly he spun me around and the next thing I knew we were slow dancing in the kitchen. It was deliciously unexpected.

Nothing eventuated between Charlie and I, much to his disappointment. If we’d had more time maybe something would have. But the universe, as it seems, had other plans.

I learned a lot that night.

PROOF Sometimes I wonder if the universe sends us signs of what...

Sun, 17 Apr 2011 22:42:00 +1000

PROOF

Sometimes I wonder if the universe sends us signs of what is meant to be, or if it’s all just an illusion and the ‘signs’ are merely telepathic proof of what we want to happen. What we see could simply be our mind telling us what we really want, when we’re too blind or deaf to hear it when it comes from ourselves.

There’s something to be said about energy and the balance of the universe, I genuinely believe in that. Though, at times, I’ve definitely wondered which direction the universe is leading me, if there’s any leading to be done at all.

Last night I was out, about, and bouncing around at a gig. It was in a little hole-in-the-wall kind of place, on the campus of one of the local universities. It had mis-matched furniture with a slight Japanese chic twist. It had a very lounge kind of feel.

I was there to watch some friends audition for some online music TV channel, unsurprisingly they nailed it. From one of the earlier performances I noticed a guitarist looked exactly like Eddie. The first time I saw him, the one who I’d later find out was named Adrian, I felt as though I were falling through my own skin. Until the moment I realised I wasn’t actually seeing him, Adrian, I was seeing Eddie. It’s almost like I can’t escape him. Oh universe, you are either cruel or generous, it’s a fine line between the two. I suppose that goes on to beg the question, why am I trying to escape him? and, do I really want to?

No matter how much I wished otherwise, it was Adrian. He was a great performer and his music was moving, but once thought I’d seen Eddie my mind couldn’t focus on anything else. In those lost seconds I realised how much I wanted Eddie there with me, but instead he was at home with his fiancée, and I was there sitting on an uncomfortable barstool staring at a stranger.

Perhaps the cosmos was screaming something at me, perhaps not. There’s no way to know for sure.

It’s been over a week since I last saw Eddie, and that day he also happened to see me having coffee with another friend of mine Ben. I have a sneaking suspicion that the latter is ultimately the cause of the former. Unfortunately.

Ben is a friend from work, we talk often and our most intimate encounter was being seated next to each other in the cinema. We are friends and nothing more. Eddie, as far as I can tell, saw something else. Since that day communication between us has been sparse and it’s gotten me worried and out-of-sorts.

Worried because our agreement was our connection to each other wasn’t romantic and the understanding that either of us could do whatever we like. We have no obligation to each other. Given the current vibe I’m getting, or rather the vibe that I’m not, I think things between us have gone sideways.

This all warrants some sort of conversation but one I doubt we’ll get to have any time soon. As usual, only time will tell.

Photo

Sun, 17 Apr 2011 17:17:49 +1000

I just can’t seem to escape your face.

Sat, 16 Apr 2011 19:51:23 +1000

I just can’t seem to escape your face.

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Tue, 12 Apr 2011 01:26:27 +1000

Once upon a time there was the Sad Princess who for the life of...

Tue, 12 Apr 2011 01:15:08 +1000

Once upon a time there was the Sad Princess who for the life of her could not think passed her own nose. Every day she would revel in her sadness and all that she saw wrong with the world. She tried time and again to make her life better, moving to different beautiful rooms in her family’s grand castle, and tried new exciting hobbies like riding horses and reading books about far of lands. But none of it made her happy.

She had many friends who she talked to about everything, but sometimes they grew tired of her woeful sighs and the bad energy that hovered around her. It was hopeless, they felt pulled down into her darkness and feared they couldn’t return. They didn’t know what to do. Nothing they said would console her, nothing they tried made her remotely happy. They all thought she was cursed. Doomed to be searching forever.

The truth was, she was no different to any of them, she had a heart, a mind and a soul. Though, her mind was her enemy and thus her undoing. She could never choose anything for herself, at the same time she wanted her friends to love her. But it wouldn’t be so.

Eventually her friends, so worn down by her curse, started to drift away. The tragedy was the Sad Princess couldn’t be saved by her friends, or a prince, or true love’s kiss. She had to save herself, but because she was ever so lost, she could never find out how.

She went this way and that, like a ship without a rudder, tossing about on the water at the mercy of the wind and waves. Scouring for her answers under rocks and in bottomless caverns.