An ordinary life

Time to work

/ Robert / Leave a comment

 
Mostly quiet; purring of the engine,

Pierced by one voice.

Headphones, immaculate dark brown hair,

Golden tan, short back and sides, dark grey jersey. 

“You got muscle?”

Heads down phones out.

“She played for UNSW”

Seven polygons overlaid in the round below the thumb. 

Blue denim shirt, cream chinos and sandy coloured hair.

“Big crowds expected” states the jumping video screen.

Heavy gold links encircle a slim young wrist. 

“Almost two years, nice!”

Raindrops on glass,

Wipers have stopped.

Wet umbrella at my feet. 

An annoying fly. 

“Julie, see you around, my name’s Brad!”

Time to work 

Effervescent Barbarella bubbles

/ Robert / 3 Comments

  

As a child I spent hours drawing organic shapes then filling them with circles. The above is an example of the technique I drew over a few days in Paper 53 for iPad. I started with the basic shape, the rest evolved as I progressed.
The following ideas popped into my head as I quietly looped:

  • Mathmos lava lamps
  • PseudoIsochromatic Plates
  • Scaled Rarasaurus
  • Globular liquid
  • Emulsified oil
  • Magmatic water
  • Effervescent Barbarella bubbles
  • Blogosphere
  • Foaming
  • Stony riverbed
  • Chained
  • Chain stitch

From the bus stop

/ Robert / 5 Comments

If someone had told me, when I was young, that I would one day leave the cool northern hemisphere climate, my birthplace, I wouldn’t have believed them. 

Why would I want to trade in grey, cloudy skies, and drizzly rain that clings to your clothes and hair?

This morning I find myself sitting at the bus stop. Across one of the busiest roads in Sydney I see: a blue sky; lush green leafed trees; and a palm tree.  
  

Being myself

/ Robert / 44 Comments

  


I recently received an email from WordPress to remind me that September is the anniversary of the birth of theINFP.com. This proved to be the catalyst for me to to reflect on why I blog, review the blog’s categories and look to the future.

In the beginning
I can clearly remember the feeling of trepidation as I clicked to share my first post with the World. It was called Memory, Motivation, Momentum, you can read it here – you will be part of a select group. So many negative thoughts ran through my mind: ‘Why would anyone be interested?’; ‘I will look like a fool’; and ‘Who do I think I am?’ When I started blogging three years ago I was unsure of why I was doing so. I half expected that it was just another phase that would wax and wane.

The path
Generally, I don’t have a lot to say; considering myself a trifle dull. I can see the interest die in the eyes of most people when I talk to them. I learned late in life that it is okay to be a shy introvert. Walking the path to rid myself of the masks, walls and perceived expectations I have buit up is not a easy as I anticipated. Being part of the blogging community has helped me along this journey. It is reassuring to know that there are people who are interested in what I have to say, even if it is only in a few words.
Significant periods in my life seem to be marked by decade long milestones. Each one signals the removal of a gossamer veil from my inner eye, one after another. My purpose in this earthly form becomes tantalisingly clearer. This often inspires me to create and share pictures, poems and posts.

The future
I plan to add a ‘personal development’ category to my blog. I will capture the articles and posts that resonate with me and explain how the concepts relate to my own experiences. The travel category will be removed.
Thank you for reading this short insight into why I blog and where I am going. I truly appreciate being part of your conversations, and you liking, commenting and following my blog.
Being myself, Robert

Stick in the mud

/ Robert / 7 Comments

 
It was a sunny day with a refreshing nip in the air. I made my way to a seat next to an ordinary looking young man, thankfully he didn’t appear to be listening to music. I quickly became immersed in the chatter of my mind. Occasionally I noticed details for the first time on buildings I had frequently seen before. I was vaguely aware of the bus stopping and starting as it often does on weekday mornings going into the city along Parramatta Road, Sydney, Australia.

Suddenly, the person next to me stood up. 

I’m usually hypersensitive of others being about to do something. The shock of movement from next to me jolted me to the core. I experienced a yoyo feeling somewhere in my upper chest. Assuming the man wanted to alight from the bus. I hurriedly grabbed the bags on my lap, stood, stepped into the aisle, and sat down again after he had gone. 

Memories of similar situations connected in my mind. Why did I react in the way that I did? My childhood training has stayed with me, I excuse myself and thank people when I need to get past them!

I would be interested in reading your experiences like this. 

A piece

/ Robert / 6 Comments

  
While preparing breakfast this morning the smell of bacon frying brought back a childhood memory from 1970’s England. A time of vibrant colours, heady music and my Granddad’s quiet, gentle nature. My Mom’s family were from Smethwick (pronounced Smerrick), a Black Country town to the west of Birmingham. I remembered asking my Mom if I could have “a piece in the dip”. She would dip one side of a slice of white bread into the juices from the Sunday roast. I would add ground white pepper, fold the bread in half and savour each mouthful of this prized gastronomic delight. Me and my brothers would also enjoy a “piece” spread with dripping later in the week. This time honoured tradition began for me in my Nan’s house. 

Looking back I have realised that this was a rare glimpse into 1940’s. The kitchen had an enamelled gas stove, crock sink, wooden drainingboard and faded toile de jouy wallpaper. 

Why the Sylvac Hyacinth vases? My Nan had one just like the one at the back, it sat proudly on the sill of the bay window of her home in The Oval, Smethwick, West Midlands, UK. 

Related
More about my accent can be found here Evolution of my accent
More Black Country words and meanings: Black Country Dialect

Classic Black Country sayings: Black Country Sayings

Droitwich Spa remembered

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30 years ago I was living in a small spa town in England. The cinema was located in one of the forgotten spa buildings, grandly named the Winter Gardens. Built in the 1930’s, in its heyday it was reputed to have the best sprung dance floor in the Midlands. Rows of seats were screwed to the floor to create the picture palace. The building became a victim of redevelopment at a time of video cassettes and a general loss of interest in cinemas. 

I remember with dewey-eyed nostalgia, the musty smelling space with dampness pervading the air. The chill of the place lingered in my bones long after leaving. Those were the days; buying Kia Ora, toffee apples and cornettos from the usherette and watching cartoons before the feature film. My eyes smarted from the cigarette smoke fuelled haze caught in the oblong light stream from projector to screen. I’m sure I went to the cinema as a teenager more than twice. Yet there are only two movies that I remember seeing: Bedknobs and Broomsticks and Mad Max; significant given my interest in paganism and eventual move to Australia!

The picture is from http://cinematreasures.org/theaters/48952/photos/125515

Out of balance

/ Robert / 1 Comment

  

For the last few weeks the following strands have been intertwining, drawing a dark shawl over my eyes. 

  • The gradual slump towards ‘hump month’ and the shortest day in the Southern Hemisphere. 
  • Gloom filled days interspersed with a smattering of sunshine
  • A soft tissue injury in my left foot making exercise painful

Peeping through tiny spy holes skewed my outlook. Languishing here provided me with the inspiration to write:

Morning morosity takes hold;
Melancholic meanderings of my mind and
Morbid imaginings of this mindless malaise.

Energy constricted, ebbing. Woefulness clouds; dimming. 
Knowing what is happening, not wanting it to stop. 
Why go on? Hopelessness creeps in, chilling.

Darkness, warmth; slumber away the doubts. 
For now, in this moment balance exists. 

Serendipitous circumstances led to my release: email reminder from the Buddha Bar Healing Clinic, Newtown, Australia; space in my diary; promise of financial assistance from our health fund; and an appointment with the person who ‘felt’ right. 

My journey began with a cup of rose and green tea then I was directed downstairs by Gavin to the ‘Harry Potter Room’. A deceptively large and comfortable subterranean cavern tucked under the stairs. This room, filled with colour, fragrance and spiritual artefacts, welcomed me into its womb like embrace. 

After a 45 minutes massage with lavender oil and a quarter of an hour of Reiki I was decidedly wobbly. I don’t remember my walk to the train station or the trip to Lewisham. While making my way along the platform I felt a sensation in my head, and a slight dizziness as I stumbled to the left. The walk home was taken at a snails pace. The accumulated stress had been replaced by a deep trancelike calm. Like sparks from the fire, thoughts of the previous weeks popped into my head and dimmed without gaining traction. Three days later inner peace persists, a testament to the most profound massage to date. 

More information:

The Buddha Bar Healing Clinic

Gavin Read