Once Bitten...

*** I have resumed re-writing & posting those updates which Google had lost some months back. Once I'm finished with my April "butterflies" project I will unveil my new blog over at Wordpress. *** Much love to all, bobby 2011-09-14

Inspiration, joy, beauty, Oneness, the spark of recognition...

Monday, April 25, 2011

Day350 - line

A starburst of red on the surface of bedding; a comforting pillow in any dark hour. Then below and behind, the gem of opulence, a purity of breath in crystalline cavity, spilling forth the spores to which no lover has ever had allergy or aversion.

Would that this be his air to breathe, his face may strain in purples for savouring, or reds for indulgence; either way, immersion, deep and true, and the balance to be had, will find itself stable, without prolonging nor undue effort.

Should that our selves shift out of phase with immediate surroundings, and blend into each other's; respective particles finding those - so foreign, yet familiar - "empty" spaces, to hook behind; cohabitate and create; a brand new manifestation of the universal force; that which we shall call the We.

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Day349 - complete,

For a million minds pull forth on the string, connecting us all in a web on three axes. Would the spider think of gems on the vine, that intersect it's cross-stitch and pretend to prismatic dew, or seaspray on invisible lines?

Nocturnal now; crepuscular; stalking his prey: a dream to be had and thoughts to be chased, but chaste no longer in his thirst for sating. She bends in willing acceptance, as tree bows to wind; the flickering sparkle of rhinestones and diamonds, only proven to the expert eye, or the testing of pressure; in the flames of a sun.

Her dew is fresh and welling beside; the scent on the air, floats into the night; a baited hook to pull him in, her ears turn about in said direction, heart palpable and strong, excited yet anxious, as steam rises from chest and flush, forgetting to think; his breath is upon her.


Saturday, April 23, 2011

Day348 - written

When the sublimating sun sinks in seclusion; when the cavernous empty emanates warmth, from the fusion of flames; when the night comes strong, with grasping clenches; pulling life forth, dissolving in emerald & gold.

The disconcerted few confused; revelled not reviled, wonder mystified and wanderously in the midst of hue; a colour transient, prismatic & spellbound; knowing not which axes are which, but a force from every direction, guiding hands to the caress of every action.

Within a realised home, the sinking sands, withering words, usurped by the glow of generous giving; of soul & mind, body & being. It does us well to reach within ourselves, and pull forth the light that dwells within; the gem of our essence, in brilliance.


Friday, April 22, 2011

Day347 - for

From this; valid, opines to Earth, to dine on; to drink; to soak her in, absorbing through epidermis and subcutaneous, deep into bone; yet in this there is but blood and tissue. The facets of favours, in fortunes fallow, lay waste to seedlessness, on the scales of entropy.

Was it not the lay, when we first touched sight; an obstinate abstinence from pulmonary lines, divining the knowledge, preconceived & pronounced; the invisible pull; the tug on a twig of the tree of life, yet that which therein holds the genome of destiny.

When separated by ecstasy, in an island of consciousness, forever encircled in the city of light; the fervor of the forsaken, taken and whole; now encased in an elemental dream.


Thursday, April 21, 2011

Day346 - us,

There is a fever found in fortune favoured, of an eye looking inward, exploring landscapes of endless insight; at once both myopic for the immediate, yet open to the eternal; discovered, unearthed in a deluge of dreams, this is the place visited in somnolence.

Would that this be a dimension unseen, yet to be proven by scientific method, when all things are possible, probable in an infinite universe, just one in a multiverse, and itself but a microcosm.

This search for Oneness, spurs him on; imagination a wild stallion, aethereal and untamed, fire in his eyes & a ghostly mane; signify lust, a thirst for all, but above the rest - truth - for herein lies the base definition; to oneself, forever & faithful.


Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Day345 - to

Diluted in finery, the ends of an heir, approbation & circumstance, this; smoking mirrors, forged in fires of furnaced fervor; those diamondine eyes, trading in truth, lit golden with gleam, in which reflect, the world & all within.

Give me quark or lepton, he cries, to a voice soft inside, borne of a dream. Asphalt is the saviour of unbroken lovers, whose ground unfurls before them; rivulets of steel, where the towering ecstasy of extra-bodied embraces enrapture their eyes, in subjective audiences.

A bridge flanked by beauty, crossed & divided, intersecting souls which meet in the middle; the source of potential; summoning impossible dreams into being, when there is no "can't" for "can"s. This can be seen in the heart of an eye, trumped by that, in the eye of a heart.


Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Day344 - breathe

It is the glistening fountain of breathtaking flower, or butterfly, spread for beauty, displayed & admired, absorbed & inhaled, caressed with eyes, mind & tongue, but what lies beyond; that mystery ancient, yet known now, a reminder demands, and slips into shape & form of the glove, fitting & fluid; the legacy of man; the lust of an age.

Immersed & embraced; shipwrecked & drowned; spacetime is bent, to the will of the wild; animals still, instinctive & present, yet entirely phased; the echoes of breaths.

A pull at her ears; a tug on her tail; a bite at her neck, with wind all the while, dispersing in place, in memory, mind; the presence to ecstasy; in one of one's kind.


Monday, April 18, 2011

Day343 - in

An echo true, as virtue sings, silver lined pipes that carry him in, smooth and soft, and caressed all the while.

Instead, life milk, to thoughts unawares, and the corporeal receptor, in throws of humanity; an island of missing, to that which is but, yet an absence of commotion, in the calm of chaos.

"Silk!" she screams silently with the drive of her body, ivory hues in painted night; soft as revealed, the intrinsicance of furore and blood-warmed skin. Oh how it melts in the radiant heat; between that to which the clear scented, bleeds from within.


Sunday, April 17, 2011

Day342 - time,

Scent on the air lifted, lilted, washed away, sounds drowned in ink surrounds, as breath drawn warm was held, the stars exploded.

He took a handful and threw them into the air to fall where they may. All matter passing through this starfield did pull them hither, tracking, dispersing, leaving traces in other spheres, alternate dimensions, warm, seen, and unseen.

Supreme: the mirrored star, silvered between fingers, separating; two from one; and as before; a noted frequency, in ten thousand orbits, lost once again, in wistfulness of, one from two.


Saturday, April 16, 2011

Day341 - this

Electro and chromo; the weak and the strong, unifying space with time, electricity with magnetism, this abstract mathematical symmetry: the gauge.

Would this never be true of a being, experiencing existence in iniquity, but falling to earth; the harsh tones of hurt. For all the light blocked by necessary black, absorbing that which otherwise illuminates; yet a star will always outshine.

A cave once discovered is found anew, enjoyed for a time: reflection, shields, and dressing; drawn swords, shields, and wounds; to fix that which faltered, to reign in the wind; to rope in the wild; reminding, affirming, truisms of ages, but one: as tools to weapons, for intent, or for use; the converse is always true.


Friday, April 15, 2011

Day340 - is

Where do we play; abbreviating the night; it's patches asunder, and subjects kowtowing to inky surrounds and monarchistic figureheads, hung by the sky, under chandelier tears; the shards of the ages.

As children with wisdom, nefarious never, long drawn from the depths of majestic succinctity, the entreats of entropy, serendipitous, flawless, a lacking of none, when deserving all ways, of smiles in kinship & sighs of contentment.

A city of angels, as tears to my eyes, indulging in awe; the countenance of earth.


Thursday, April 14, 2011

Day339 - but

Approaching the mid point, to this, our hour; chancing to daydream, disassemble, devour; separations of stone, marbled and true; mirrored souls in smooth, doubled, magnetic, in whole & in virtue.

Leptons, neutrinos, muons & tau, what lies beyond, the dendrochronology of he, borne solid of waist, and years bore the backbone; fragility, grace, when circumstance contrived to bellow his name, a pseudonym true; devilicious desire.

Gazing at brushstrokes, each bristle in finest, the fractions so fair, to be washed on the shorelines of consciousness sure. Enjoy them now, while the shadow in hiding, absorbs the most fierce of fantasy fare; yet without a wish, she brings them together, longing for sunlight, unadmitted to self, but known so well, in spaces; hers, deep.


Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Day338 - fleeting,

When the sky has been painted, by accident consequence, in bluest of clouds, yet the great bronze beyond, sings to the wave particles, that carry their glory, and with it, the world's desire.

His head is weary, where heart hides a hole, once filled with the wonder of satellites, strawberries; grown from the pillow of the chest laid upon, milked cream lines the throat, in severance, sated, and swallows him down.

Re-normalised now, in quantum field theory, countering the shortfall, when approaching infinity. What probability greater than one, can ever be faithful, & fit the finiteness of limited scope, with scale of mind, and sheen of skin, when safe in the knowledge of the truest of truths, that the infinite endless has always been.


Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Day337 - so

With a half spin qualifier, disturbing in least, the confines of the beasts, named self-consciousness, guilt, fear & doubt; all needing to be tamed, phantasmal they; with which your hands can never grasp, but your spirit & fortitude, and strength of age, overcome, and never undone, or seek to ravel the knots.

Up & down, charmed & strange, top & bottom, we're all the same. Your neutrality scored along the edges of imaginings. We crack the seal, let knowledge flow forth, shaping, colloidally, filling the empty of every effusive file, and pondering: when, at which point, and how, a dent does progress to be deemed a hole.

But moreover a whole; mutualists in pedagogs, abstractions of randoms, in phantasmal botanicals; the deep blue of night that never turns black and carries us sweetly, as we forget our forge forward in unforeseen fantasy.


Monday, April 11, 2011

Day336 - know

Unfolded sail dreams disturbed the air, rippling in poetics, the lightest of sails; prismatic at best, graceful at least, but no wings are needed for him in this space.

"Will I endure another Winter post this?" he once dreamt. "Will the warmth ever fade or free me from fortresses, never feigned or fallowed, or will I remain the indomitable inmate incarcerate; alive in captivity; forever infallible?"

Aloft in the aether, the feather of fortune, floats downward in zig-zagging arcs. The afterglow & strobe, and the bronze sky beseeched, in a wand of forgiveness, with trees matching hue; and none the same, every single dream came, with a folded crane companion of true.


Sunday, April 10, 2011

Day335 - my

In this he would never harm, for I have never a need to contribute but a drop to the pool that persists. Wither, without, and though life feeds on life, as naturally as the horizon holds captive the rainbow band beneath blue; harm must be purposeful, respectful, and never enjoyed, yet pleasure is taken in justice served, when it is dished onto fair plate; subjective & true.

Does it design to confuse when mixing "he" with "I"? Where there is consensus; we hope this embroils, entangles & strangles, the thresholds of yore; honesty, purpose & jealousy, each all in their respective grandeurs.

While figuring the scent of a thousand drawn flowers, sketched each with the half thought of him still in mind. A sadness & longing, opacity & belonging; where drag pulls asunder, the hearth once yearned for, and the never never has never, felt so very far away.


Saturday, April 9, 2011

Day334 - hand,

The racing of mind, beyond the sublime, felicitous findings forever in fact; as dissolute, disparate dogs drunk on dishwater; with all that is washed away, emerges purity & semblance of order, for a time.

Where does a mind take one, during fall into genius; to clarity borne; a thousand distinct thoughts lay upon us in plague; to waste but a few in pursuit of the sway; this is par & yardstick, for the consciousness' descent into dreams.

Pondering languidly, the switching of brains, between infants of human & cetus alike; wondering would this, evidence that purported; intelligence of whale, to language and commune, to friend & to foeship, to love and to lust?


Friday, April 8, 2011

Day333 - and

Post-elation, feet now sink into the rock on which he only appears to stand, but for every intent he is not all there; a facsimile of some long-lost ghost, to be sure.

How he sees through mountains, dimensions, colours, absorbing diamonds and stones; amazed simplicity in the vastness of the empty spaces; chasms between atoms; those that allow one to merge matter with same, unhinging, displacing, loosening and out of phase; the sub-atomic velcro that shatters the silence with every tear.

Were the elements born in the dreams of men, not of hocus pocus, yet as magic to the untrained eye; the unenlightened mind. These are foreign thoughts, as unseen this, and more beyond, herein is the essence of miracles.


Thursday, April 7, 2011

Day332 - make

Where there is water, life is not far away; evidenced by dull patches of greenery; the flora that has climbed so high to see, or has held on since such ancient times that it has known the mountain when it was just ground, and risen at such a rate one would term an eternity

Would that it have been once marsh, wold, or forest, it matters not now, because that is past, and forward is the pinnacle of being, climbing ever-skyward, and distant clouds remember their relatives - the receding seas - the ice floats and glaciers, and even those unseen cousins, hanging on the air.

In a moment's digression, disparate dispersion, he returns to thought, having shared all with the One who he knows no bounds for. On this mountain, in this place, of this moment. This is where I have been for as long as I've been writing these words.


Wednesday, April 6, 2011

Day331 - the

For the memory; beginning with a vagueism, the thought of somewhere cool, a breeze of slight, but sunny between mountains spaced so far apart to haze. High enough to feel atmospherical changes, rarefied and dressed so warmly, but not so out of contact with the environment, faces bare, and hands forever same. Yet in this form it matters not.

With a long glance, travelling the view, in all directions, forgetting for an extended moment how he arrived, but happy to be here; happy to be. And with all this in front, eyes are closed, and the picture remains, but hazed further by memory, slowly soaking into the mind, mixing with more distant memories; the reality of this most recent experience, slipping with every particle of thought, until osmosis draws it fully into archive and sight gives way to the other senses; further palettes to memory. The resultant colours are those which are tasted, inhaled and heard.

There is something so beautiful contained in the warmth of a sunlit face, yet the air, surrounds, may be bitingly cold, were it not for the protection that the light brings, and what the shade foregoes. There is little to be heard out here, away from everything known in days. Even the birds are silent, no songs are sung, for they too are enjoying the tranquillity, respectful, at peace.


Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Day330 - most,

So where to land; or should there be a destination; but to just savour the joy of sailing through storm clouds, into the milieu, then back above for contrast to where the Sun shines without pause nor care for surface events, where another world below soaks all under its wing.

Here is where we are cleansed; our doubt and hangups removed for purity, which is never far from our grasp, should we remember to look for it. Amidst the discharge, electrons find their way to ground, pressurized, speeding, cutting through unnatural night; ephemeral in its totality, but commanding all and forever in those moments.

Do we fly beneath the cover, and bear witness to the dark majesty of rain, as it throws the wind about, and us as a consequence; or do we choose the sunlight and ease of bliss, outside of the weathering ring. This is not a question but merely a matter for destiny, and as it draws on our minds, we slip into thought; for her, new and deep.


Monday, April 4, 2011

Day329 - of

And onwards through the space at its edge, circling the sphere, within the glare of glistening oceans below; the reflection of light so full and engrossing; this water world of wonder; our base, our womb. Unique to the inhabitants, in the safety of our bubble, yet just one of an infinite soda, in a race to the surface.

The beauty of sand, filtered and formed, manipulated to light-bending solid and otherwise invisible, holding that liquid but not containing it, for escapist ideas can never be held long, and seek the path of greatest freedom; a digression in imagery for love of simplicity, and all that is sweet, inherent and hinted at, contained within such limited walls, yet limitless perspective, from the ogive displacement, is enough to satisfy those curious eyes.

Can one think of the place most desired in this moment; but yes, it is there in mind. When granted reprieve to the elevation and sink, to where gravity once again pulls at the iron in his blood, the draw is active, and relativity tested, for the spin which holds all, welcomes him home, to rest himself true, and lay his head against her breast once more.


Sunday, April 3, 2011

Day328 - every.

In an arc of swooped song, he rose to level, just a touch from the surface, dilating in slight, wavering motion, but no turbulence here; smooth and delicate, protracted angles, then on, up, & into, such height to eschew visibility to all.

Skywards through atmosphere, thinning, replaced, to face the vacuum of awe and wonder, with Everything at hand, and Oneness in mind. This is where we are born.

Floating. Weightless. Contemplating the stars. Our hydrogen Sun; perennially fusing and self-perpetuating. Limitless in the scope of a human lifetime. The full vista of Earth, which from the dust of said stars come before. At this elevation, for him alone, and with a single eye; taking the entire world and holding all, in his hand.


Saturday, April 2, 2011

Day327 - Eternal.

By choice, he fell, over softening florets of pounamu; through a haze in hue not unlike the veins of the bluest, most intricately canalled cheese, but instead, a transparent scent - that of ancient rocks - and the air whistled through, filling his nostrils, awakening every hair and surface; the tunnels that line, to cool thoughts, internal eternal, swirling mixed emotion and memory.

The Earth's floor approached, with detail increased, to scale, a hastened descent and accelerated heartrate, through no part of fear, but absorption of life; a quickening of blood, and drilling down through cells, past the visible, into quantum, wherein that point; the space that occupies so elementary a punctual particle.

But virtue through, and no reason of mind, in all that encompassed, was at its core; purity. From this well never could spring forth imbalance - not one that was for worse - not here, where only photons emanated, and yet those duality waves that outsped the light, and flowed faster than thought; those tachyons of destiny; known before, and echoing forever after; confusing perception of those without knowing, yet; passing within the breath of an eternal instant.


Friday, April 1, 2011

Day326 - Moment.

He walked in a dream, to the precipice, overlooking the canopy; emeralds, nephrite & bowenite laid out; flanked by walls of ancient earth, once surfaced, now & long-since layered, natural circuitboards of interdependent communities; microcosms under the dome of eternal azure.

Crisp and cold, embedded in breath, skeletal trees spake sentences sweet, of love lost with ages, but surfaced in green, still deep within the veins of ore, blood and sap; the lifeblood of wanting & delicate balance, magnetic & true.

Without loosening to thought or engaging pause to consider, he strode in silence; wonder muted by the music spread before him, and with head & eyes filled with the ozone of purity, in heady delight he stepped over the edge. With never a whisper of doubt.


Thursday, March 31, 2011

Day325 - Never Doubt

It's the ultimate in sadness when one equates maturity with the loss of dreams.

I will never.

If I ever need a reminder, it is in the endless blue and wind of memory, surrounded by gold, at the pulpit, in the crispness of air, never freer, complete and home.

I will always.


Click to listen: Placebo - Narcoleptic

Slip and stumble at my first fences
It's not treason, it's no lie
You talk in paragraphs
I write my sentence
It's not treason, it's no lie

It seemed a place for us to dream x 2

Crush and crumble under your defenses
It's not treason, it's no lie
You frame the photograph
I sit on fences
Change of season, love can die

It seemed a place for us to dream x 4

If we tear out the tumor
It's later, never sooner
If we tear out the tumor
It's later, never sooner

It seemed a place for us to dream x 2

You'd better keep it in check
Or you'll end up a wreck
And you'll never wake up
You'd better keep it in check
Or you'll end up a wreck
And you'll never wake up
Wake up x3

It seemed a place for us to dream x 2

You'd better keep it in check
Or you'll end up a wreck
And you'll never wake up x 4
Wake up


Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Day324 - "That's Some Catch"

I'm currently slowpoking my way through the most excellent Catch-22 - very fun & very clever, it's the sort of book one doesn't want to end.

I hear the phrase itself often, and for a long time didn't know it's meaning, so avoided using it. For those that want immediate gratification, here is a fantastic site which deserves to be shared with the world: the Online Etymology Dictionary, defining Catch-22.


Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Day323 - Hugging & Tickling

Because I'd already used this title.

I just finished watching the season 4 finale of Californication. I'm tempted to go back and re-watch from the first season, as I'm not sure I had quite the appreciative eye upon first viewing that I do after 4 years. It may also be that the "realness" of the stories & characters were somewhat distracting from their depth.

I enjoy art that pulls no punches, explores whichever topic the story demands, and employs only self-censorship for impact, over adhering to another's definition of obscenity. Passionate language and nudity are beautiful aspects of life & should be celebrated and I won't pretend they don't exist. Nor do I find Californication gratuitous in the slightest - for a dose of gratuitousness, there is always the nightly news.

This is a show with layers, easily obscured by those nearer to the surface, for their luminescence. One comes away with the feeling that the writers actually care about their dialogue - to the extent that they might just be aware that they're creating poetry with every script. The visuals match and the humour sticks.

Perhaps I should be concerned that I relate so well to the character of a 50yo father of one, separatee and general manchild. But he squeezes the all out of life and has known and knows true love, and there is something so beautiful in that, which redeems all.


"You know exactly where to find me,
and that's what scares the shit out of you;
the fact that I am real, not some ghost."


I had the same impatient urge this time a year ago when I considered the 9 month wait between episodes.

The finale finished with an excellent sequence accompanied by the following song. I couldn't help but snigger.

Click to listen: The Rolling Stones - You Can't Always Get What You Want


Day322 - Warmth

Awakened with a headache - that I didn't even realize I had until I took a moment to think about my cold symptoms and red, red eyes - I pondered yesterday and the 3 before, spent in SE Queensland, visiting the Mermaid, family and friends.

While Sydney has been very good to me, I've long held a desire to relocate to one of my top 3 destinations, and landing on Friday, I immediately felt the air greet me, embracing & welcoming back.

More & more I feel the pull to warmer climes. There is much to consider with such a move, but with only one thing holding me here, and it's grip sadly loosening with each day, I feel the inevitability.

There have been a couple of instances where coming back to my current base - I don't think of as 'home' - was somewhat of a downer, and I count yesterday amongst them, but maybe this was tied up with the semi-rotten feeling of flu-dom.

A side-effect of which has had the last couple of nights fraught with dreams. I haven't dreamt this much in months. Part of me doesn't want to remember them upon waking, but they are of the calibre that will not let me cast them aside and I can feel them pushing through the surface to consciousness, more & more each day, processing.

A couple have made it through: one dream supremely significant in that it has been repeated since my late teens and once again more recently than I'd realized - though it has grown, expanded on itself - that of a place which I am destined to call home; in warmer climes.


Click to listen: Fleetwood Mac - I Don't Want To Know


Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Day317 - Fucking and Punching

The title comes from a fictional novel from Californication - the wonderfully debaucherous show featuring a character based in part on the equally wonderful & debaucherous Charles Bukowski.

As another enjoyable season draws to a close, I can't help but admire David Duchovny's excellent physique. While forever a fan of the feminine form, a well-chiselled masculine body can be equally beautiful.

Arnold Schwarzenegger attained perfection in 1970, with the aid of steroids yes, but not to diminish the massive effort & determination that was the driving force. The problem with increasing mass to such an extent is the post-career leftovers - unless continuing to train for life, the body will wave goodbye to it's glory days and leave the owner with nothing but memories and a double appetite.

For a 50 year old, Duchovny has the "beautiful" part nailed - at least as far as the body goes.

When I see a man of his age in such good shape, the words ring in my ears: no excuses.

Also, and randomly, I've always thought that he has the eyes of Barney Rubble.


Karen: "If you were going to have sex with someone and you knew it would be the absolute last time, what do you think it would be like?"

Hank: "I think it would be incredibly sad."

Karen: "Yeah, so do I. Make me sad."


Reunion (complete with the return of the handlebar-moustached bassist) and album #3 on it's way!

Click to listen: The Darkness- Love is Only a Feeling


Thursday, March 17, 2011

Day311 - Hiding Oneself In Distractions

Much work and much play makes bobby distracted muchly.

Yet also makes for exhaustion & wonder.

"I am half sick of shadows."

And ideal for it.


Click to listen: Neil Young - Heart of Gold


Monday, February 28, 2011

Day294 - Epic

Fresh from a workout, I hit a new Personal Best.

Endorphins race, awakening muscles & fibres, pushing through depletion. Exhausted, yet summoning strength to squeeze out that last drop of energy, before falling into a heap. Satisfied.

For now.


An epic workout demands an epic song. This is my Eye of the Tiger:

Journey - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)


Day293 - PP 4 NP

One of the most relaxed & blissful Sundays in a while. I even managed to squeeze in not one but two siestas!

Though I may have overdone the indulgence slightly - a bit discombobulated & have been eyes open since some ridiculously small hour, working on ways to fall back to sleep.

One failed attempt included watching a most excellent lecture series Particle Physics for Non-Physicists, which details the recent and short history of the study of said - we're not even 100 years deep; it's an exciting time. This does however have the adverse side effect of keeping me awake, purely because it's far too interesting to fall asleep to.

It's now 0515 - for one person, the perfect time of day to test out their new high-noise/small-penis muffler. I wonder if there was ever anyone born who is actually impressed by this. Does it lead to romance? How does one seal the deal - chase after the noisy car or motorbike, honking one's horn & waving them to pull over, to declare everlasting love?

I don't get it.

Back to particles.


Saturday, February 26, 2011

Day292 - Mermaids and Pirates

The lovely and talented Rianna and I have created a shared art project in the form of a blog.

A conversation of beauty in both images and words.

Click for a dose of inspiration.


Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Day288 - Music Soul Battery

I had a stark realization today of just how much power I receive from listening to music.

I ran a couple of my favourite Blind Melon songs through my phone, and felt my energy levels steadily increase, motivation rise & inspiration well, as if years of cumulative positivity, joy and bliss are stored in certain songs, to be drawn upon listening. I have always understood that music affected mood but I had never before looked at it quite in this light.

There is the knowledge that the power source is internal and that the music is only a catalyst, but it - and all forms of art - are such a necessary part of the battery of the soul.


Blind Melon - Soul One


Monday, February 21, 2011

Day287 - Echidna

I found a good use for my otherwise useless 5 cent coins: bagged and dropped into the hat of a most grateful and kind-faced panhandler. I'm not sure what the dollar total was but I enjoyed the look of surprize on his face.


Saturday, February 19, 2011

Day285 - 3 Days in NZ, part 2

Heelys. I want a pair.

I'm not sure they come in size 12 or 13's.

Bubble saved up $35 worth of pocket money which I "matched" to allow her to make the purchase. I can already tell that they're one of those items that will in part define her childhood.


More Jane's Addiction (and one of my favourite songs) =)

Jane's Addiciton - Classic Girl

In my neighborhood,
When shots go off,
No one bothers.
A POP, and a reply POP, and no reply...

Dinosaurs on the quilt I wore
With a girl.
Such a classic girl...
Such a classic girl...
Such a classic girl,

Gives her man great ideas.
Hears you tell your friends,
Hey man, why don't you listen to my great idea!
It's true I am a villain
When you fall ill,
that's probably because

Men never can be.
Not like a girl.
A classic girl...
Such a classic girl...

They may say, Those were the days...,
But in a way,
You know for us these are the days.
Yes, for us these are the days,

And you know you're my girl!
Such a classic girl...
Such a classic girl...

Yeah for us these are the days..."


Friday, February 18, 2011

Day284 - 3 Days in NZ, part 1

6AM start, worked through the day, then an afternoon flight into Auckland - an impromptu visit to see my girl, on the back of a bunch of airpoints that were set to expire at the end of the month.

The glow in the background is the moon: full, large & looming - the camera having it's own surrealistic interpretation in the low light.


One of the most epic songs of all time:

Jane's Addiction - Three Days

"Three days was the morning
My focus three days old
My head, it landed
To the sounds of cricket bows...

I am proud man anyway
Covered now by three days

Three ways was the morning
Three lovers, in three ways
We knew when she landed,
Three days she'd stay.

I am a proud man anyway
Covered now by three days

We saw shadows of the morning light
the shadows of the evening sun
till the shadows and the light were one..."


Monday, February 14, 2011

Day280 - Cut-off

Men in cut-off jean shorts: there should be a law against it.



I need something soothing to take my mind off the above:

The Black Crowes - "Sometimes Salvation"


Thursday, February 10, 2011

Day276 - Return to Gatsby

I recently finished reading The Great Gatsby for the second time in 6 months. No less enamored, I consider this book to be one of my great loves. It was life-changing the first time, in that it spoke to me in a most familiar tongue, as if I were having a conversation with my own internal monologue. I knew then that it was the template, the yardstick for my own writing & that when I came to write my own novel, I would aspire to be even a shadow of this; the absolute pinnacle, where words are elevated above mere syllables, into poetry.

As with returning to a lover, there was anticipation of the known and excitement at the prospect of discovering something new this time. Sure enough this was the case. Some of my favorite passages from last time did not hit me with the same impact, but others that had previously washed over me, seeped deeper, into the cracks of my consciousness...

"they had never been closer in their month of love nor communicated more profoundly one with another than when she brushed silent lips against his coat shoulder, or when he touched the end of her fingers gently, as if she were asleep"

"You said a bad driver was only safe until she met another bad driver. Well I met another bad driver, didn't I?"

"...I'll make you a mint julep, then you won't seem so stupid to yourself".

And one of my favourite lines:

"He looked around him wildly, as if the past were lurking here in the shadow of his house, just out of reach of his hand."

which leads into the following, molten poetry:

"...One autumn night, five years before, they had been walking down the street when the leaves were falling, and they came to a place where there were no trees and the sidewalk was white with moonlight. They stopped here and turned toward each other. Now it was a cool night with that mysterious excitement in it which comes at the two changes of the year. The quiet lights in the houses were humming out into the darkness and there was a stir and bustle among the stars. Out of the corner of his eye Gatsby saw that the blocks of the sidewalks really formed a ladder and mounted to a secret place above the trees — he could climb to it, if he climbed alone, and once there he could suck on the pap of life, gulp down the incomparable milk of wonder.

His heart beat faster and faster as Daisy’s white face came up to his own. He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips’ touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete."

/a most satisfied sigh.

Once more, immediately after reading I didn't want to read anything else; purely uninterested. I will wait until the glow fades, until it's no longer fresh in mind, because as of then I will have processed the beauty in its entirety and will reflect upon it with only fond and further enlightened eyes.

I look forward to next time, Gatsby.


Not sure why, but this song seems to fit the post:

The Black Crowes - She Talks to Angels


Day275 - Nothing

Quite often I will lay my head at night and drift to sleep with a lecture, documentary or or audio book playing, in part to maximize my time on Earth, in part because it is the time of day when I am most receptive to knowledge absorption, and partly due to the instant dreams generated.

But last night I went with nothing.

I'd forgotten how beautiful the figurative music is that my own thoughts make, without effort.

I should do this more often.


This song featured last night in a dream. I remember thinking, "oh, I recognize this - it's unusual for this store to be playing it". At least, I think it was a dream - it may well have happened yesterday. Life has been a little blurry lately...

Lemonheads - Half The Time


Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Day274 - Dedicated

As a tall lad, I grew up being unable to lift my own body weight, ever since the first time I attempted a pull-up in early high school.

I managed one.

Yes, a single pull-up. But it didn't count anyway as I used the momentum of jumping off the floor to reach chin to bar (ie I cheated).

Today at the gym I was thoroughly happy with my progress - I managed 3 sets of pull-ups: 4-3-2, a new personal best =)

It may not seem like much at first glance, but bear in mind that these were performed after an intense pec & bicep resistance workout - the final squeeze of muscle, the last gasp of sinew.

In line with my February re-focusing of Self, I've been hitting the gym every 2 to 2.5 days (alternating morning/night workouts) - possibly a little too frequently but it's nice to shake up the routine now & then and shock the body in the process.

I've really come alive lately. I love the motivation I've been privileged to harness & am grateful for the inspiration of those who provide it on a daily basis, especially those who occasionally take the time to read my words. I don't require a huge audience - in fact my favourite blogs have a small number of followers and I love the community that grows up around them. I'm just happy to have an audience of beautiful ones, who inspire me in return. It means a lot to me.


This just happens to be playing right now. One of my top 10 favourite songs of all time.

Dedicated to all the lovers.

You know who you are.

The Black Crowes - Descending


Saturday, February 5, 2011

Day271 - Extreme Spaghettification

This is but one of several poetic terms used in the amazing History Channel series "The Universe" now into its 5th season - a highly recommended watch for anyone with an interest in astrophysics, with up-to-date discoveries & theories. It's most astounding how alive and ever-changing the field is.

The titular phrase from Stephen Hawking was quoted by one of my favourite physicists (yes, I have favourite physicists) Alex Filippenko, on the topic of black holes, whose work I had encountered before in various lectures for The Teaching Company. It is thinkers like Filippenko who have such an infectious enthusiasm for the beauty with which they deal every single day, that can only manifest itself in poetic language.

There have been some truly mind-blowing episodes, on which I will talk more.


"I don't know my telephone number
but you kiss good and I'd like to see you tomorrow"

Black Crowes - Nonfiction [live]

"Clouds conspire, above my head..."


Thursday, February 3, 2011

Day269 - Dragonfly

I have a soft spot for dragonflies - they never seem afraid of humans - as if they know they can get away with just about anything because they're so damn beautiful.

This lovely specimen was kind enough to pose for pictures before I carried it over to the window and gently blew it out into the world.


GD I love this album! For anyone who hasn't heard The Southern Harmony & Musical Companion, do yourself a favour & download it now, before Summer's gone. Here's one of the singles:

The Black Crowes - Remedy


Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Day268 - Ibis

Lunch at Darling Harbour yesterday, enjoying myself when this slightly scary specimen came up to me with a look in his eye as if to say "gimme your wallet!". Scarier than a Bondi cockroach, I breathed relief when he wandered away to peck at another of his kind.

Being an immigrant, I can be forgiven for having not known the genus, let alone common name, but enlightened by an ornithologically adept friend, I learnt that the bird in question is an Ibis.

Aside from having a succinct & sweet-to-the-lips name, I found myself in an odd way quite taken with them: monstrous, yet elegant; beautiful, yet intimidating; instilling a modicum of uncertainty when in proximity - just enough to put one on edge.

Imposing beauty with a hint of the unknown.

This combination always gets me.


Chris Robinson - 40 Days

"The savage hooks of midnight, have pierced your milk white skin,
tattooed in gold dust splendor
A jeweled thrown you ascend
So be safely on your way and heed the words I say"


Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Day267 - Meditate

It looks like I've finally shaken the persistent cough I've had for the last month. It really was starting to drive me nuts, especially over the last week - I've barely exercised and stayed in as much as possible. Stir crazy and restless, I was glad for the change to come:

I awoke this morning at 0530, full of life, full of my usual exuberance, motivation & spirit. I dove into a delicious yoga workout followed by an intense gym session and some early morning acoustic guitar - a fantastic start to the day! A fantastic start to the month!

I'm sure the 40ºC day helped - it was beautiful! Humidity in the 30's, Sun obviously hot but not scorching - gentle - completely matching my mood.

The tail end of 2010 saw me not only burn the candle at both ends but melt in the middle, so I'm spending the next 28 days focused on balance through introspection & meditation.

I'm enjoying the various music, writing & art projects I'm involved with, so here's hoping these are all stimulated as a result.

I have a wonderful network of inspiring & supportive friends - chances are if you're reading this, I count you as one :) The people I've met in blogland over the last 267 days or so are such a lovely - and loosely disparate - group.


Something random:

Frank Mills - Music Box Dancer


Monday, January 31, 2011

Day266 - T minus C

And zero day.

This amazing image holds me captive, lost; more than a spectator, not in it, but of it.

Turn off the lights, hold this in mind, close your eyes, breathe, relax, listen, and see where it takes you:

Pink Floyd - Echoes (part 1)
Pink Floyd - Echoes (part 2)
Pink Floyd - Echoes (part 3)

(Image originally found here).


Sunday, January 30, 2011

Day265 - Insomniac Salad

There's nothing quite like making a salad at 2AM - the local slice of the world is approaching it's quietest, the relaxation therapy that food preparation provides is intensified by the calm surrounds, and the absence of the usual additional stimulus brings into acute focus senses of touch, taste and smell.

Curiously awakened by a dream that had me clenching my teeth - protagonist in a nightmarish Orwellian future, desperately attempting to escape the omnipresent representatives of "the system", it was all very Matrix-meets-Total Recall: exciting but not particularly relaxing - I was happy to discover waiting email from the most enjoyable of ping-pong conversations, sent only minutes before, followed by the cricket-chirp of my phone as it rang from the great beyond.



But I have suspicions that my friends may be psychic.


I wanted to link the song currently swirling around in my head: The Lemonheads I'll Do It Anyway, but apparently if it's not on youtube it doesn't exist on the internet, so instead here's a song from a toddler's point of view:

The Lemonheads - Rockin Stroll


Saturday, January 29, 2011

Day264 - Subjective Objective

Last night - or rather early this morning - I was browsing pictures that included myself, when I chanced upon the strangest sensation: that of a disassociated state. I could see me for me, without the cloud of personality and inherent associations that come with an image that is viewed daily, and one that continues to change so subtly and slowly before one's own eyes.

Most significantly, I saw myself as others see me - at least, through my own reality tunnel.

Some may have the ability to do this already but it's one I had never experienced before.

It is difficult to recapture today, but as with a steriogram, once the method has been unlocked, it can be accessed again with decreasing effort upon each iteration.

Maybe it was the headspace I was in that brought about the epiphany: a milieu of tidal waters dipped in beauty that drew back in to replace those which had been sucked out in the earlier rip.

Either way, I am glad to accept this as part of the enlightenment I've enjoyed over the last few years. I feel my strength only growing, physically, emotionally, spiritually. Commencement of my journey to becoming an elder, perhaps.

But I do know this: I am glad beyond words to not have lost that which I was prepared - and devastatingly unhappy - to lose.

Blessed once with knowing.

Blessed twice with insight.


A song I haven't listened to in far too long. Pure inspiration.

The Black Crowes - Thorn in my Pride

Wake me when the day breaks
Show me how the sun shines
Tell me about your heartaches
Who could be so unkind?
Do you dream to touch me?
And smile down deep inside
Or could you just kill me?
It's hard to make up your mind, sometimes.

My angels, my devils, my thorn in my pride.

Are you wanting inspiration
You spill your secrets on me
Then you tell me with a whisper
Of things that will never be.
Do you hear me breathing?
Does it make you want to scream?
Did you ever like a bad dream?
Sometimes life is obscene.

My angels, my devils, my thorn in my pride.

Lover cover me with your sleep
Let your love light shine
Lover cover me with a good dream
Let your love light shine


Friday, January 28, 2011

Day263 - Q&A

Q: What is the worst feeling one can imagine?

A: Inadvertently invoking said feeling in a loved one.

Today was no imagining.

It is the feeling one gets when the stomach's bottom drops out, breath becomes shorter, chest restricted, legs buckle & rubberize, headache ensues, thinking becomes jumbled, disoriented, tears threaten, all aforementioned as with anxiety or panic.

Then what?

You either make amends or let go.

I did both.

It sucked.

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