Unfurl yourself from my heart, unembrace me gently.
I did not know you lived so ferociously within me
Hibernating, like a shadow on my soul
Shall we relinquish each other?
My guilt for your freedom
I grant you
Monday, 14 April 2008
Sunday, 13 April 2008
The little bird flies
She left yesterday and no one cried. But I did feel immensely for her boyfriend, because he's unsure she will ever come back. But I know my daughter.
She will be back because she doesn't actually like change. I know she left because she needed to make a statement about not becoming complacent and making bold choices, being young and not settling just because its easy.
And I admire her for it. I also know she's a bit of a homebody, likes her creature comforts and loves to be around her family.
So I say, fly little bird, challenge yourself, flap your wings and expand your horizons because home and family will always be here. Have confidence to fly in a circle but make that circle as big and as long as you like.
Fly:)
h2
ps I got the smaller contract, I'm ecstatic, I find out about the big kahuna tomorrow, but I'm ok either way, my plate is full and I am sated.
She will be back because she doesn't actually like change. I know she left because she needed to make a statement about not becoming complacent and making bold choices, being young and not settling just because its easy.
And I admire her for it. I also know she's a bit of a homebody, likes her creature comforts and loves to be around her family.
So I say, fly little bird, challenge yourself, flap your wings and expand your horizons because home and family will always be here. Have confidence to fly in a circle but make that circle as big and as long as you like.
Fly:)
h2
ps I got the smaller contract, I'm ecstatic, I find out about the big kahuna tomorrow, but I'm ok either way, my plate is full and I am sated.
Tuesday, 8 April 2008
Stars
I did not see you launch from the Moon, but I am watching your trajection across the night sky, flying past stars and playing with comets :)
Just for you.
Damien Rice - The Blowers Daughter
Just for you.
Damien Rice - The Blowers Daughter
Monday, 7 April 2008
please hold for a call
This morning I left work and took a phone interview for a project manager from my home phone. I thought I was being interviewed by a panel of 4, turns out to be a panel of 1. Does that work? no, not really. Where is the panel? Under my bed? In a coma? hiding in my closet? ummmmm sorry, they weren't able to make the time you requested.....err ok?
So I answered the questions that were given to me and waited for her to type my response so that she could pass it on to the rest of the panel. It was a very long interview because you can only type so fast when you have a phone tucked under your chin. The interviewer was very pleasant and kept her sense of humour. She explained that the very situation we were in was because they desperately needed a 'project manager'.
I have no idea how they will respond to my answers in typed form. I have no idea if they were typed verbatim, but I was amused. It is what it is, no more and certainly no less. To be honest, they DO need a project manager, if only to get a process manual in place :)
So my immediate interviews are over. I see no other ship on the horizon at the moment. There is no storm in my sea of life. I have an even keel and I'm afloat:)
I took 4 phone calls from my sister this morning, all of which were cut off at vital points in our conversation. A little like this " she said she wants you to....click"
"I need you to.....click" "it said you will receive...click". Her phone is broken....no kidding.
I think her phone also has ESP, because it sure had some humdinger cliffhanger hang ups. I was on speed dial every time I got cut off, dialling over and over and over again until I could reach her. Frantic is a good word. Needless to say, the information transferred in its entirety did not save the world, provide a cure for world disease or deliver peace to humanity. Maybe tomorrow.
Autumn approaches, like steel against bare skin.....
H2
So I answered the questions that were given to me and waited for her to type my response so that she could pass it on to the rest of the panel. It was a very long interview because you can only type so fast when you have a phone tucked under your chin. The interviewer was very pleasant and kept her sense of humour. She explained that the very situation we were in was because they desperately needed a 'project manager'.
I have no idea how they will respond to my answers in typed form. I have no idea if they were typed verbatim, but I was amused. It is what it is, no more and certainly no less. To be honest, they DO need a project manager, if only to get a process manual in place :)
So my immediate interviews are over. I see no other ship on the horizon at the moment. There is no storm in my sea of life. I have an even keel and I'm afloat:)
I took 4 phone calls from my sister this morning, all of which were cut off at vital points in our conversation. A little like this " she said she wants you to....click"
"I need you to.....click" "it said you will receive...click". Her phone is broken....no kidding.
I think her phone also has ESP, because it sure had some humdinger cliffhanger hang ups. I was on speed dial every time I got cut off, dialling over and over and over again until I could reach her. Frantic is a good word. Needless to say, the information transferred in its entirety did not save the world, provide a cure for world disease or deliver peace to humanity. Maybe tomorrow.
Autumn approaches, like steel against bare skin.....
H2
Sunday, 6 April 2008
Sayonara Shintaro
The other day I decided to make a hangi (earth oven cooking) dinner for my departing flatmate. A few months back, I placed an ad on an online website and I asked the universe to send me a flatmate that was independant, non-chattering and culturally diverse. Shin showed up, actually he was the only one that showed up :) But he was perfect.
He was quiet, polite, respectful and independant, as well as the all-important, non-chattering.
Yesterday I went and picked up my son-in-law and he helped me dig a hole about 2ft deep, 3 ft wide and together we placed paper first, then kindling, then layered the wood and finally the rocks on top. The point of this first part is to heat the stones which will eventually cook the food.
S and I lit the fire and waited.
When a large fire starts there is always alot of smoke before the burn truly catches...... there was a shitload of billowing, blinding, tear inducing smoke. I had already rung the fire stations to pre-warn them that I was cooking a hangi (which is legal, its a courtesy call to the fire station to let them know what was going on in the neighbourhood) and there were a few neighbours peeping over to see what was going on.....(I told the ones on either side of me, forgot the neighbours at the back ...oops).
So inside I am saying a prayer to the 'gods of smoke' to quit it, cos it's getting to 'white out' stage in my backyard and I can barely breathe, let alone see the fenceline:)
And just when I think I can stand it no more, I see flames leaping through the smoke....aaaahhh thank god. Within 2 minutes the smoke is gone and a fire now burns, popping and crackling in my backyard. S left to go back to his other life that doesn't involve digging a hole for his mother-in-law, and I pull up a chair, get the hose and sit and watch the fire.
Its all burning really well, just the right layers of wood, the fire is small but intense, the stones are turning first black and then white to indicate the stages of heat they are experiencing.
Shin shows up and is immediately transfixed by what is going on. He rushes out and says "oh, fire, you make fire and stone". "oh very hotting, what doing with stone"
I explain the process of making the stones hot to cook the food and he is in a trance. I ask him to watch the fire while I prepare the wire basket of food.
He is thrilled to be given such an important job and promptly takes up 'guard' station at the fireside. I watch from the kitchen window while I wrap everything in muslin and tinfoil before placing in the basket. He attentively moves wood, checks the edges, wanders around its perimeter, sits down for 3 seconds and gets back up to repeat this all over again, very serious job he has :)
My sister arrives to help me put the basket in and cover the food up with soil.
We start to dig out the embers so that there is more room for the basket to sit deep. Shin asks to help so I give him my shovel and instruct him about removing embers only and to move the rocks around. The rocks are volcanic and can withstand great heat, they are not your typical garden variety so they don't shatter or break. Shin jumps into his role again, full of energy and gung-ho.
I take photos on his camera of him shovelling embers. My sister and I lay the covered basket into the hole and then Shin and my sister cover the whole thing with dirt. At this time my dog is trying to get into the mix. She wonders why the humans are digging a hole and placing a huge amount of food in the hole......isn't that her gig???? WTF (in dogspeak).
So in all of the shots I took of them covering up the basket my dog is in there too, wondering WTF is going on.
So after the food is buried it takes 3.5 hours to cook. What do we do till then? Clean up and prep for dinner of course. I washed all the kitchen, bought fresh flowers, set the table, vacuumed, tidied up and looked at the clock, it was now 5.45pm. The hangi would be ready at 6.30pm. I sat down with a cup of tea and put my feet up, I was tired.
At 5.58pm Shin comes thundering the stairs at the running rate and starts yelling "Bairee digging, Bairee digging, Bairee digging"......I look out the window in horror....the fucking dog IS digging.
I run out to the hangi and my run slows to a walk......the sacking covering the food has been dragged 0ut of the ground and across the yard, the hole is exposed, there is a bite out of the stuffing wrapped in tinfoil and a chop is protruding from the earth. I start to hyperventilate.....
Shin is still running around and around the hole yelling "what do, what do, what do". I instruct him to help me remove the dirt and get to towels to help us lift it out without burning ourselves. Inside I am in shock. The problem with food that is cooked underground is, if its not cooked when you bring it up, it doesn't cook very well beyond that state. Its ruined.
We lift it out of the ground and take it to the outside table. with the cover off, alot of the food has been exposed to dirt. I ring my sister and tell her to come over immediately. Because in this situation I can't cope. I will throw the whole lot in the rubbish, string up the dog and shoot myself if I'm part of this chaos for more than 2 minutes. She arrives and tells me to go do something else while she moves into resuscitation mode.
I look at the dog, I want to kill the dog. She hangs her head down and tries to peep at me, I can read her thoughts, something like this "is she looking at me like that? is she looking at me? yep shes looking at me, she looks psychotic, oops, don't catch her eye, run for the hills"
Shin is still panicking and asks if he can do anything for me. I tell him to kill the dog.
He laughs and laughs and says 'Bairee no die". I'm not too sure about that.
My sister, bless her, rescues 80% of the food. She is able to miraculously removed the top layer without disturbing the lower layers. It is mayhem for only half an hour.
By the time Shins two friends show up, they were never aware of what had transpired in the last hour.
It was a fabulous dinner in the end and the dog got the scraps too. Shin had actually said that when he went out early to check the hangi site that Bailey had growled at him. Like it was her food and he should back off :) The backyard is her kingdom after all........
He told me "Bairee digging has given me very special memory of this dinner and our time sharing" and laughed :)
Shin left this morning at 6am, to catch the shuttle to the train. He is on his last journey through the North Island before heading home to Japan in one week. I will miss him. I cried as I waved goodbye. He really was a blessing to have. Thanks for sending him to me.
Sayonara Shin
h2
He was quiet, polite, respectful and independant, as well as the all-important, non-chattering.
Yesterday I went and picked up my son-in-law and he helped me dig a hole about 2ft deep, 3 ft wide and together we placed paper first, then kindling, then layered the wood and finally the rocks on top. The point of this first part is to heat the stones which will eventually cook the food.
S and I lit the fire and waited.
When a large fire starts there is always alot of smoke before the burn truly catches...... there was a shitload of billowing, blinding, tear inducing smoke. I had already rung the fire stations to pre-warn them that I was cooking a hangi (which is legal, its a courtesy call to the fire station to let them know what was going on in the neighbourhood) and there were a few neighbours peeping over to see what was going on.....(I told the ones on either side of me, forgot the neighbours at the back ...oops).
So inside I am saying a prayer to the 'gods of smoke' to quit it, cos it's getting to 'white out' stage in my backyard and I can barely breathe, let alone see the fenceline:)
And just when I think I can stand it no more, I see flames leaping through the smoke....aaaahhh thank god. Within 2 minutes the smoke is gone and a fire now burns, popping and crackling in my backyard. S left to go back to his other life that doesn't involve digging a hole for his mother-in-law, and I pull up a chair, get the hose and sit and watch the fire.
Its all burning really well, just the right layers of wood, the fire is small but intense, the stones are turning first black and then white to indicate the stages of heat they are experiencing.
Shin shows up and is immediately transfixed by what is going on. He rushes out and says "oh, fire, you make fire and stone". "oh very hotting, what doing with stone"
I explain the process of making the stones hot to cook the food and he is in a trance. I ask him to watch the fire while I prepare the wire basket of food.
He is thrilled to be given such an important job and promptly takes up 'guard' station at the fireside. I watch from the kitchen window while I wrap everything in muslin and tinfoil before placing in the basket. He attentively moves wood, checks the edges, wanders around its perimeter, sits down for 3 seconds and gets back up to repeat this all over again, very serious job he has :)
My sister arrives to help me put the basket in and cover the food up with soil.
We start to dig out the embers so that there is more room for the basket to sit deep. Shin asks to help so I give him my shovel and instruct him about removing embers only and to move the rocks around. The rocks are volcanic and can withstand great heat, they are not your typical garden variety so they don't shatter or break. Shin jumps into his role again, full of energy and gung-ho.
I take photos on his camera of him shovelling embers. My sister and I lay the covered basket into the hole and then Shin and my sister cover the whole thing with dirt. At this time my dog is trying to get into the mix. She wonders why the humans are digging a hole and placing a huge amount of food in the hole......isn't that her gig???? WTF (in dogspeak).
So in all of the shots I took of them covering up the basket my dog is in there too, wondering WTF is going on.
So after the food is buried it takes 3.5 hours to cook. What do we do till then? Clean up and prep for dinner of course. I washed all the kitchen, bought fresh flowers, set the table, vacuumed, tidied up and looked at the clock, it was now 5.45pm. The hangi would be ready at 6.30pm. I sat down with a cup of tea and put my feet up, I was tired.
At 5.58pm Shin comes thundering the stairs at the running rate and starts yelling "Bairee digging, Bairee digging, Bairee digging"......I look out the window in horror....the fucking dog IS digging.
I run out to the hangi and my run slows to a walk......the sacking covering the food has been dragged 0ut of the ground and across the yard, the hole is exposed, there is a bite out of the stuffing wrapped in tinfoil and a chop is protruding from the earth. I start to hyperventilate.....
Shin is still running around and around the hole yelling "what do, what do, what do". I instruct him to help me remove the dirt and get to towels to help us lift it out without burning ourselves. Inside I am in shock. The problem with food that is cooked underground is, if its not cooked when you bring it up, it doesn't cook very well beyond that state. Its ruined.
We lift it out of the ground and take it to the outside table. with the cover off, alot of the food has been exposed to dirt. I ring my sister and tell her to come over immediately. Because in this situation I can't cope. I will throw the whole lot in the rubbish, string up the dog and shoot myself if I'm part of this chaos for more than 2 minutes. She arrives and tells me to go do something else while she moves into resuscitation mode.
I look at the dog, I want to kill the dog. She hangs her head down and tries to peep at me, I can read her thoughts, something like this "is she looking at me like that? is she looking at me? yep shes looking at me, she looks psychotic, oops, don't catch her eye, run for the hills"
Shin is still panicking and asks if he can do anything for me. I tell him to kill the dog.
He laughs and laughs and says 'Bairee no die". I'm not too sure about that.
My sister, bless her, rescues 80% of the food. She is able to miraculously removed the top layer without disturbing the lower layers. It is mayhem for only half an hour.
By the time Shins two friends show up, they were never aware of what had transpired in the last hour.
It was a fabulous dinner in the end and the dog got the scraps too. Shin had actually said that when he went out early to check the hangi site that Bailey had growled at him. Like it was her food and he should back off :) The backyard is her kingdom after all........
He told me "Bairee digging has given me very special memory of this dinner and our time sharing" and laughed :)
Shin left this morning at 6am, to catch the shuttle to the train. He is on his last journey through the North Island before heading home to Japan in one week. I will miss him. I cried as I waved goodbye. He really was a blessing to have. Thanks for sending him to me.
Sayonara Shin
h2
Saturday, 5 April 2008
Awaits
Drinking tea on a grey morning, overcast with rain from overnight still fresh on the grass. I am cooking an earth-oven dinner for Shin's last meal. He departs tomorrow.
Just before that madness starts, I am off to the Church garage sales, 3 on this morning....yippee...treasures await.
Just before that madness starts, I am off to the Church garage sales, 3 on this morning....yippee...treasures await.
Friday, 4 April 2008
Leaving
my daughter departs for Brisbane next Saturday. She has her father and grandmother there so its not so worrying (not that he has been a great father....but thats another story). I'm feeling excited for her. I remember going to Australia myself when I was 18, trying to take on Sydney when actually I only ever roamed around the North Beach because I couldn't comprehend that I was in another country, I was scared :) I did venture out into wider Sydney now and then, but not that often, it was all toooo big.
But daughter has visited on and off over the years to visit her father so its not unfamiliar territory to her. If she comes back in 3 months her salon said she still has a job. Fly free little bird :)
I went for a job interview on Monday at a place a used to work. The money is outrageous. If I should be offered the job it means I will be leaving too.....we're all leaving. Leaving points in our lives never to return to that same situation again, ever. Each of us does this every day, mostly unconsciously, without a thought or hesistation. Every day and every moment is new. I don't mind leaving, its the newness that freaks me :) The interview went good, but is good enough? I don't know and I have two lovely weeks to find out.....
h2
But daughter has visited on and off over the years to visit her father so its not unfamiliar territory to her. If she comes back in 3 months her salon said she still has a job. Fly free little bird :)
I went for a job interview on Monday at a place a used to work. The money is outrageous. If I should be offered the job it means I will be leaving too.....we're all leaving. Leaving points in our lives never to return to that same situation again, ever. Each of us does this every day, mostly unconsciously, without a thought or hesistation. Every day and every moment is new. I don't mind leaving, its the newness that freaks me :) The interview went good, but is good enough? I don't know and I have two lovely weeks to find out.....
h2
Wednesday, 2 April 2008
Father
I received an email from my client today after I questioned the meaning of a particular image in his artwork. This is his response:
Its a piece that celebrates my fathers life, he could tickle trout and other fish and then catch them, that food was gold to our family in those times of hardship, but it was his buzz too, the thing that he loved, a real hunter-gatherer. My prosperity has come from my parents and grandparents sacrifices, thus the goldfish, or koi carp as a symbol.
Then later this evening I watched "The Iceman and the Psychiatrist", a documentary filmed in prison detailing the life of Richard Kuklinski. As a child he was beaten by his father, suffered extreme violence at his fathers hands and in response became a monster of enormous cruelty himself. A cold killer who had a trigger temper and could chop up bodies with little thought or consideration of the act. He also killed some of his victims in horrifying ways, all with mind numbing detachment. I don't need to detail any of that, if you're interested, google him.
It was interesting to listen to the psychiatrists comments to Kuklinski, interesting and scary. I compared the first and second occurences of two men speaking of their fathers in the course of my day, the first is the artist and the second is the killer. This lead me to ponder my own relationship with my father. I adored my father, but he had a misogynist mindset, to the point that I have felt that being a girl was not acceptable. Of course this leads to all sorts of manifestations. In the present day it means that I am capable of most DIY jobs, can handle power tools and understand machining and construction concepts fairly easily. I compete with men in the workplace; won't back down (as if I am finally teaching my father a lesson) and have been attracted to men that treat me poorly.
As I thought through the two examples presented to me today, I let a few tears drop at the memory of trying to please a father that couldn't be pleased (but I adored him anyway) and realise that I just want to be with a man that is sweet and adores me, warts and all. But will I be able to accept that man? Will I have enough wisdom to see with clarity when I start to sabotage my next relationship? I hope so, I'm really tired of my self-constructed carosel.
I was really touched by the artists description, so personal and vulnerable, I adore that quality. I want that quality in my husband and I want to encourage that aspect of him instead of reverting to type and scorning a characteristic that I so badly need in my life.
This might sound soft and way too syrupy, but I have lived a life that is far too hard and far too harsh. I need to yeild and drop my weapons.
peace and sleep.
h2
Its a piece that celebrates my fathers life, he could tickle trout and other fish and then catch them, that food was gold to our family in those times of hardship, but it was his buzz too, the thing that he loved, a real hunter-gatherer. My prosperity has come from my parents and grandparents sacrifices, thus the goldfish, or koi carp as a symbol.
Then later this evening I watched "The Iceman and the Psychiatrist", a documentary filmed in prison detailing the life of Richard Kuklinski. As a child he was beaten by his father, suffered extreme violence at his fathers hands and in response became a monster of enormous cruelty himself. A cold killer who had a trigger temper and could chop up bodies with little thought or consideration of the act. He also killed some of his victims in horrifying ways, all with mind numbing detachment. I don't need to detail any of that, if you're interested, google him.
It was interesting to listen to the psychiatrists comments to Kuklinski, interesting and scary. I compared the first and second occurences of two men speaking of their fathers in the course of my day, the first is the artist and the second is the killer. This lead me to ponder my own relationship with my father. I adored my father, but he had a misogynist mindset, to the point that I have felt that being a girl was not acceptable. Of course this leads to all sorts of manifestations. In the present day it means that I am capable of most DIY jobs, can handle power tools and understand machining and construction concepts fairly easily. I compete with men in the workplace; won't back down (as if I am finally teaching my father a lesson) and have been attracted to men that treat me poorly.
As I thought through the two examples presented to me today, I let a few tears drop at the memory of trying to please a father that couldn't be pleased (but I adored him anyway) and realise that I just want to be with a man that is sweet and adores me, warts and all. But will I be able to accept that man? Will I have enough wisdom to see with clarity when I start to sabotage my next relationship? I hope so, I'm really tired of my self-constructed carosel.
I was really touched by the artists description, so personal and vulnerable, I adore that quality. I want that quality in my husband and I want to encourage that aspect of him instead of reverting to type and scorning a characteristic that I so badly need in my life.
This might sound soft and way too syrupy, but I have lived a life that is far too hard and far too harsh. I need to yeild and drop my weapons.
peace and sleep.
h2
Honesty
Its a very subjective word, one that is defined by our life experience and can only be interpreted by the individual....
Scenario: Personal ad, male, HONESTY, a must (his words not mine)
Actuality: on his terms, when he feels like it = wanker
Said he must have honesty, must, reiterated this when we spoke on the phone.
I have to laugh at my gullibility sometimes. I have been communicating with a male in another city, was supposed to go and see him over Easter, but he had an emotional freak out and cancelled. Said he wasn't in a position to meet as he was going through a tough time. Has since emailed and said I sound amazing (amazingly stoopid)and that he still hopes we can meet soon......yeah right. I logged in to the dating website and he's online :) Doh.
If you want a fuck with no ties, just say so, be honest :) Its quite easy.
There's about 4 guys down my street that will do the duty for me, you don't have to go far to find these partners :)Geezus Mary and Josepha, tell me MY truth more like it. Grow up fucker.
ahhhh thats better
H2
Scenario: Personal ad, male, HONESTY, a must (his words not mine)
Actuality: on his terms, when he feels like it = wanker
Said he must have honesty, must, reiterated this when we spoke on the phone.
I have to laugh at my gullibility sometimes. I have been communicating with a male in another city, was supposed to go and see him over Easter, but he had an emotional freak out and cancelled. Said he wasn't in a position to meet as he was going through a tough time. Has since emailed and said I sound amazing (amazingly stoopid)and that he still hopes we can meet soon......yeah right. I logged in to the dating website and he's online :) Doh.
If you want a fuck with no ties, just say so, be honest :) Its quite easy.
There's about 4 guys down my street that will do the duty for me, you don't have to go far to find these partners :)Geezus Mary and Josepha, tell me MY truth more like it. Grow up fucker.
ahhhh thats better
H2
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