Rockalypse (all ages)

Dark Ocean

My mate Nathan is a famous poet who lives at the foot of a bunch of old volcanoes. He's won national awards and published a stack of books but commutes a vast distance and works part-time to make ends meet.

His Dad used to work in a beef slaughter house to make ends meet before he became a famous painter of stuff like the one above called "Dark ocean of dark eyes with wind". ($12500 AU) and the one below called "Bullock and still life in a dark landscape" ($11000 AU). These are some of his works currently on exhibition at the prestigious Philip Bacon Galleries, Brisbane, AUSTRALIA.

This tension between the creative life and the pragmatic necessity of putting food on the table every night reminds me of a quote from Nietzche roughly translated to mean:

"He who has a why to live for,

can bear with almost any how"

 

Tinnitus

I often hear ringing in my ears when there's nothing really ringing. I'm assuming here there's no invisible Harry Potter's pranking me. Mainly my right ear. It penetrates my thoughts and day dreams unannounced. One minute I'm thinking about something deep and meaningful like "Why do I enjoy seemingly pointless activities like running, meditation, surfing?" I mean how stupid, pointless and time wasting is surfing? It's just a repetitive process of paddle out-catch wave-paddle out-catch wave-paddle out-catch wave (fall off)-curse at drop ins-catch wave-get skin cancer. 

Then, in mid thought, out of nowhere, this high pitched whirr will pierce my reflections. My ears start to hurt - well usually my right ear. Sometimes I get dizzy. It's nothing like the echoes of the past contained in a big seashell type of sound. It's more like a ghost of the Industrial Revolution - a mechanical sound. It's almost like I'm picking up short-wave static via the numerous mercury(!) amalgam fillings in my teeth. Maybe it's from too much loud live music?  Too much mobile phone? Wrong medication? Old age? Who knows.

Thankfully it departs for God-knows-where after a while.
Maybe I'll see the doctor.

Monochrome Monday (myth)

“Myths are public dreams, 

dreams are private myths.” 

Joseph Campbell

Word

"I always prefer to believe 

the best of everybody, 

it saves so much trouble."

RUDYARD KIPLING

Pigs on the Wing (Pt1)

"music washes away from the soul

The dust of everyday life"

Berthold  Auerbach 

"If you didn't care what happened to me,

and I didn't care for you,

we would zig zag our way 

through the boredom and pain,

occasionally glancing up through the rain

wondering which of the buggers to blame

and watching for pigs on the wing."

Pink Floyd - Pigs on the Wing (Pt1)

Talkin Story

Sometimes you need a break from the pack (mentality) to harvest some stoke. If you can't take a physical break, take a mental break and push those neurons into some unfamiliar  terrain.

A brilliant surfer - thinker - photographer I admire is David Pu'u, a former Canon Image of the Year winner. Check out his post about the importance of unknown and unCorporate creatives harnessing the open source universe that the internet supports, in order to enrich surfing lore.

As various corporate lackeys sell us beautifully crafted rewrites of the already rewritten "Official History of Surfing", we need another perspective, a counterpoint or back beat. We need the self-funded, yet knowlegable crew "Who Were Actually There" to step up and share what it was really like for them - what boards they rode, where they surfed, who inspired them. Otherwise, our surfing universe will only be inhabited by downsized, homogenised, Photoshopped "Legends", who, although legitimate, progressives back in the day only provide a limited mythical view of our collective history.

Randamonium

Monochrome MOnday (brave new world)

 “A love of nature keeps no factories busy.” 

― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

“Words can be like X-rays 

if you use them properly -- 

they’ll go through anything. 

You read and you’re pierced.” 

― Aldous Huxley, Brave New World

Repeat After Me

In order to stay mentally and physically fit, I like to move my carcass at a speed somewhere between an octogenarian's arthritic gait and a marathon runner's stylish stride. I usually do this at night. Initially it was so nobody could see my flab swaying like dancing jelly* (*jello to some of my international friends) and my face flush with both oxygen deprivation and embarrassment.

Then something strage and unexpcted happened. After several months I had lost 8 kgs and actually enjoyed my regular jog/shuffles loping along in the manner of Aussie ultra-long distance runner Cliff Young.

I still go at night, as I find it easier to meditate by repeating my late father's mantra and focusing my attention on a point of light somewhere ahead on the poorly lit concrete bike track.

I haven't gotten a lot better at mediation though. It's like the sea. Some days are calm serene and everything clicks and other days it's all awash with turbulence and constant mental chatter. I dive in anyway.

Fish Fry 2013

Be there. Currumbin Alley, Gold Coast.
It's a fantastic, friendly gathering.
More info click HERE.