MEETINGS WITH TALL DARK STRANGERS

I waited in a sliver of light at the tram stop to avoid meetings with tall dark strangers. I was only a short tram-ride away from lively Fitzroy but it was so silent that the crispness of the air actually stung my ears. It was broken only by the sound of passing cars, who flew past me in jolted flocks timed with the traffic lights just over the hill. I shivered because I had been out all day and one cannot accurately predict the bi-polar weather of Melbourne. So I had only my jumper. I pulled my arms inside and drew the collar up over my nose. I always see joggers doing quick little prances with their feet to keep their muscles warm while they wait to cross the road. So I did that too.

When I stopped – I won’t lie I’m pretty unfit – I heard the sound of a stranger approaching. He was on the other side of the road but I could still tell he was highly intoxicated. He stumbled along the dark path and turned a corner, cursing to himself and tripping over his own feet.

God some people are ridiculous.

I withdrew my head underneath my jumper to check my phone – eight minutes left. My phone is a pathetic HTC with so many mods, struggling on 18% because my brother is strongly against iPhone’s and refused to let me buy one. Ironically he owns a Macbook.

I saw a car approaching so I quickly popped my arms and head out of my jumper. I forgot how ridiculous I must look. And that’s when I noticed them. At first I thought they were birds, but as I kept staring I realised they were bats: thousands of them, flooding the sky in a rippling river of jagged wings and silence.

“Amazing, huh?” A tall dark stranger stood next to me. Jesus Christ! I thought, when did he get here? He had spoken with a thick accent that I couldn’t place.
“Yeah, until they shit on you.” Sometimes I am appalled by my frankness with strangers. But to my relief he just laughed.
“Would be quiet unfortunate, I think. I’ve lived here three years and never seen anything like this.”
“Huh. Where were you before?”
“My wife and I are from Venezuela. We grew up there, I ran my own business there, all of our family and friends live there. But one day we woke up and realised something wasn’t right. We just didn’t feel right, it wasn’t home, wasn’t the place to start a family.” He looked up at the bats, which continued to fly together, towards a destination that neither of us could see. “So we packed up and left. We didn’t know anyone in Melbourne, not a soul. And it was hard, at first. But we took a risk. Sometimes you’ve just got to do it. Don’t think too much, and do what instinct tells you.”

The tram rolled in front of us. I took one last glance up at the bats, and jumped on.

GEM

So I've mentioned Gemma quite often in my posts, and that is because she is a wonderfully close friend of mine! :) Something else  wonderful is her new blog, which she has launched today! Take a look! :)

THOUGHTS // 10.6.2015

A few Mondays ago, I stumbled across some inspiration. I feel like I have lost a bit of it since, but I’ll try to find it again, so that I can relay it in this post.

So I met Graeme Simsion. You may or may not heard of him, so I shall explain his relevance to my story: he is a Melbourne-based author who wrote The Rosie Project and more recently The Rosie Effect. He’s won a some prizes too, so it would be fair to say he’s a pretty successful/cool guy.

Anyway, besides being successful, he is also middle-aged. Some may argue that this is a success in itself, that’s fine. I think so too. But the main point I’m trying to make is that he is middle-aged and successful. Some interesting chats digressed between myself and my wonderful friend Andrew yesterday, in which we discovered a mutual fear of expectation. I say that this is mutual between myself and Andrew, but I am fairly certain it connects us with perhaps every individual on the planet. Andrew used the example of Michael Fassbender to illustrate his point, as I have just done with Simsion. But this story’s moral is simple really: it’s ok to not be a child prodigy! I am very relieved by this, because at 19 I felt like time was running out to become the next Shirley Temple.


So the point I have made is a fairly obvious one, but I figured, if we are all fundamentally the same, then technically we all have the same fears. And it’s good to know I’ve effectively got a life time to measure my success, or lack of. Cheers Fassbender for the life lesson! 

WINTER MORNING // MORNING WINTER

Last Sunday, Gemma and I treated ourselves to a much-needed catch-up over a delicious breakfast at The Lilydale General. Sipping on lattes and mocha milkshakes (uh, yum!) and chatting about all things ir/relevant was the best way to say goodbye autumn and helllooo winter! Now, I know that not everyone is a winter person, but you've got to admit, curling up with a good book and a cup of tea on a wintery day sounds pretty good. But sadly, tis the season for exams at the moment, so until later, stay warm!

Photo credit / Gemma Snowball

GREEN LEAF FALLING

As I sat in the Autumn sun a green leaf fell into my bag. I asked my friend Sam what this meant. He said that when a green leaf falls, it represents a lost hope. I found this concept horrific.

Am I a lost hope?

I sought to define this concept. This is as far as I got:

Firstly, I figured that the reason behind the tragedy of a green leaf falling was that it was not ready to fall. Green is evident of life and a hope of sustainability. It should be the brown/orange/red/yellow leaves that fall in Autumn. Otherwise the trees will be naked sooner than they need to be.

Secondly, I realised that -  although far fetched -  it was possible to translate this notion into human life. There are two ways through which I can conceive such a concept:
a) The first, that we grow and work towards a goal. Sometimes we grow closer, but perhaps you didn’t work hard enough, or you were not given the right circumstances, or it’s just not right for you. So it falls early.
b) Now the second has a debatable level of morbidity, and yet I think it is more relevant: our lives are lived as a lesson. And although one can pass on advice to the next generation, we can only learn through the experience of living. But by the time we have learned life’s important lessons - by the time we have ‘ripened’ - our time is up.

Ironically, I am actually rather cynical. I know that the green leaf falling into my bag did not mean anything. But that wasn’t the point, the point was that it made me think; and that seems a good enough reason to write about a green leaf falling. 

(p.s. So yeah the leaf looks a bit yellow now but I promise it was green)

THOUGHTS // 18.5.2015

It doesn't matter where you go, the sun always rises in the east and sets in the west.

I am sitting in the first carriage of the train and there are six other people in here with me. It is 6:53AM on a Monday morning and I am on my way to uni. The sky is still dark and I am yet far from the city; the hills on either side of me do not fall in smooth waves because the trees create jagged lines against the morning sky. These lines have a slight glow as the sky around them is a lighter shade of blue, almost white, as the sun has begun to rise. I know that the stars are still there but I can't see them right now, their urban replacements are set amongst the concrete jungle which is slowly taking over the forest I left.

There are now eleven other people in here with me. It is 7:00AM and we are racing through a tunnel. On either side of the tunnel fluorescent lights glow at two metre intervals. It feels like I’m travelling through a wormhole and I don’t know what’s on the other side. But so little of life is certain and we are more familiar with the unknown. For who can predict a life that is lived by another or oneself, or that which is worth living? There is a sea of cars on either side of the train as people park and ready themselves for the day. A small strip of shops lies parallel to the station. A large blue sign announces that one of these is to be known as “Simplicity Funerals.” I wonder what they do to make grief easy?

Black dots move against a lightening sky. They are birds and they are not flying in formation. I notice this because they are so disorderly against the ordinary background of suburbia. The power lines dip between the power poles. From a distance they look like stitching and they are holding the sky together. How many stitches would be needed to hold together? There are now too many people in the carriage to count.

"LET'S TAKE A TRIP 10,000 MILES, ABOVE THE CLOUDS"

It’s true. Like every other New Year’s Resolution that is ever conceived, my blog has been neglected. I won’t lie, I am a little ashamed, and very sad and sorry. But I’m also excited to start again. What’s my excuse? Life. It gets in the way sometimes, you know?
So I started this thing called university this year, and it’s been pretty amazing. Besides the actual coursework - which has been somewhat of a breath of fresh air - the routine change has been shockingly wonderful. And whilst it is exhausting travelling into the city (yay two hour public transport trips!) I’ve gotta say that I love the café culture that Melbourne has to offer, and with which I have certainly become more familiar with. You’d be surprised how many places make an excellent 1/4 strength latte, extra hot with one sugar.
But for now I have some exciting news. In fact, I am so incredibly, hysterically thrilled by this that every time I think about it – no joke – my heart skips a beat:

Osteuropa, ich komme!

Ανατολική Ευρώπη, εδώ έρχομαι!

Evropa Lindore, këtu kam ardhur!

Istočne Europe, dolazim!

Istočna Europa, ovdje sam došao!

Источна Европа, долазим!

Kelet-Európa, jövök!

Východní Evropa, už jdu!

Each of these phrases translates to “Eastern Europe, here I come!” in the languages of the countries I will be visiting on an unbelievable, month-long adventure in June this year! Just in case you’re like me and don’t speak eight languages (I used Google translate whaaaaaa?!) the countries in the trip include Greece, Albania, Montenegro, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Serbia, Hungary, Austria and the Czech Republic, making up Topdeck’s 17 day Great Eastern tour. I will also be paying a long overdue visit to my dearly missed friends in Germany, who I have not seen for over two years(!!!)
A Greek island, an 11th century Greek Orthodox monastery, King’s Landing and George Ezra’s single are just a few of the places I’ll visit. For me, it is almost impossible to think of anything more exciting than the prospect of travel. You look down upon your home from above the clouds and then suddenly you’re in the unknown. And whilst I love the essence of familiarity, nothing can compare to fresh sights upon the eyes, living and breathing in another air. It’s an awareness of how small and insignificant one is, yet feeling that you are nevertheless on top of the world.

But just a disclaimer: although this trip sounds like a fairytale and a dream come true, it has by no means been easy. It’s taken two years saving and missing out on social events to go to work. But even just for the excitement I am feeling in anticipation for this trip, it has all been worth it!

(p.s. The title is from the song Bad Intentions by Niykee Heaton)