Twenty First Year Manifesto
Twenty one has been kind to me, here on the earth
And I’ve nurtured a humour with ongoing mirth
There’s been gifting of friendship and travel and love
Such elation at hoop-dance that fits like a glove
But with all of this growth I still need to confess
That my room is a shithole – an artist’s own mess
Here beneath all the piles of papers and pants
Are a few little things that still hold some romance;
Small drawings of anarchic doodles in pen;
A postcard that tells me I need to be zen;
The pink tube of bubbles I stuck in my bra
and promptly forgot about at Mardi Gras
A blue book that tells of the wisdom in words
And man’s greatest treasure in being absurd
I’ve learnt more than ever be honest, be true
But those with closed minds are a task to eschew
To cultivate love in its highest of forms
Needs movement, and stillness, defying thy norms
And pushing the boundaries that bound many years
You defy forceful factors that fracture small fears
For they’d splintered like wood into stagnant sharp states
Where they grew with conditions; for conditions are baits
But, empowered by those who live love with their being
Who resolve, knownst or not, there’s a gift in their seeing
In the thousands they meet and see right to the bone
To the human inside; to the voice, not the phone
Which then begs the question, how know you these friends?
Helen grins and leans back now to tie poem’s ends
With a homage to life, and a thank you to kin
My next of which lie in a heart that’s within
But let’s now make light of my Twenty Two year,
Whilst I love all these wishes; go buy me a beer
…you carry an axe camping.
Sure, the notion of being alone among several hundred kilometres of bushland has its hazards. For those not ripened in the camping arena, I shall inform thee of my new-found knowledge.
One is to worry much less about encountering potential lurking psychopaths than fallen trees. The latter proves to be almost unconquerable if said axe is not present for the road-block.
Even with an axe, your work will be cut out for you, so make sure someone else is there to do most of the hard work. After all; you’re on holiday.
But in the interest of honesty, make sure you do the hikes you went there for. It might be the most dreamy, golden, warm wattle-clad clearing you’ve ever parked a tent on, but the views from the top are guaranteed to make you glow… in and out, if you live in Australia.
Then there’s the oft overlooked element: your company. For this trip, different people popped up like popcorn to make a bowl of delicious and hilariously satisfying adventures, now savoured by all kernels. You don’t need to know each other, just make sure you’re all of the same flavour, and remember; friends not on tether pop together.
As promised, I went to the arid and dry.
Only, something had changed in the landscape of late.
Great plains, always salty, cracked and creeping on for miles sat below a liquid surface.
Here upon the plains a quiet; something stirred in ghostly waters.
Badger Bates, respected elder, told of slaughter on the flood plains; how the killing of native people echoed on and on for years.
It was then we heard the students who’d been present here before us often came to tears; unsettled in this place of darkened desert.
It was not until the elder smoked the students through a fire, and he spoke to spirits settled in this place of violent past. And what followed was a calm; a lifting light, a subtle sigh. The feeling of the landscape changed, no more they felt the morbid weight and felt no need to break the camp.
For my part, there I stood and felt with heart the toiling on the soil. My science told me “silly!” but my instinct knew much more. Who am I to judge from outside that the spirits were not haunting? There indeed existed much more than my sweeping visit told.
I love you. As I pack some things to head to remote Australia for a couple of weeks, I’m starting to think of the journeys I’ve taken in this part of the world, where landscapes almost too beautiful for words went flowing on for miles and into my camera lens.
I expect to be reinvigorated by the sparseness of space; the most elusive powerful element to the world we crowd today.
A happy local.
Been playing around with some photos (note: done by hand, not inclined enough to have photoshop).
Gives me nostalgia for kaleidoscopes – where, as children, it made total sense to look at things upside down, side and out, back side up, back down side, side back down, up down yonder-
Here are some of the interesting ones. Giant patterns of life and land…
My last blog post was Freshly Pressed – something I’m exceedingly happy about and grateful for.
Through comments and the like, it brought to my attention several interesting things;
1. People love colour.
2. People like my photos.
This led me to think;
3. I should probably post more photos, in rainbow form!
Here’s a swath of colour, a voluptuous rainbow – a selection of sweet delight from South American trundling.
as always, peace and enjoy.
la la la, colour la la.