I am a Welsh girl born in China, traveling the world on my Australian passport wherever the currents lead me. This is the place I collect the experiences that flow through me for you to collect and bring light to your day.
Love,
someone at the other end.
LAST YEAR: Byron Bay, Perth, Philippines, Sunshine Coast, Chile, Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Argentina, Antarctica, Brazil, South Africa
THIS YEAR: Pilbarra, Goldfields, Queensland
CURRENTLY: Perth, Western Australia
NEXT: Peru, California, Turkey, Greece, Croatia, England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Spain
Welcome to Perth.
5th June 2013
Notes: 3
(Source: lewky)
Reblogged From minimizereality
A man who lives fully, is prepared to die at any time.
- Mark Twain
I still cannot capture
Pages have turned
memories been burned
this war we wage
keeps me locked in a cage of rage;
And sure, it’s just a stage,
but the pollution in my head
over all that’s left unsaid
is fast forming a fog
embedded beneath my eyelids
the solution is to rid
all memory of you
in this place
so I do not trace
your face into new new diaries,
your expiry was long ago,
yet still you do not go,
that’s right -
I’m the one who always leaves
and again I will today
to come back one day
and find you here
still
living life by the window sill.
It feels like I’ve been stabbed in the heart, blade puncturing through my lungs, prohibiting me from breathing. Like I’ve had the wind knocked out of me, again and again, until the semi-intoxicating trance I once existed in barely breathing sets in between the neurons and synapses in my brain once more. It feels there’s a dark fog forming underneath my eyelids and I can’t see what I’m meant to see, I can’t do what I’m meant to do, and I can’t feel what I’m meant to feel.
It feels like I’m alive, but slowly dying.
My heads a little heavy and my hearts a little hard, but I’m alive, and I’m breathing I know, because I can feel something.
And feeling something is better than feeling nothing.
The flames gone
I watched it burn
With a fling and flicker, twist and turn
The flames gone I watched it fade
Wither and melt, in the heat it was made
The flames faded
My minds jaded
The righteous and wicked,
Why do you inflict it?
Sunshine and rain, we grow.
- J: Laula,
- the explorer -
- oh, how I adore her;
- she entered into my life
- protected me from all strife.
- The rat race - keep my pace,
- the mace look on your face
- L: Whip me with your grace
- add me on face
- book -
- that's before I sign into myspace.
- J: Age
- is a new page
- and nothing more
- I adore the flaws
- that make perfection.
- Honey over money
- Why is this so funny?
- L: Pussy wussy
- I met him in Cuzzy -
- Cusco
- I got a nose with a scent of rose,
- and spilling tea on the carpet
- is surely an indication
- of how silly one can be in a serious nation,
- but unlike mainstream,
- I paddle to hippieville,
- and celebrate life without injecting any pills -
- J: that cheap thrill,
- is life on the window sill,
- still, we evolve;
- solve the history of our mystery,
- I want not your prize,
- shallow cries,
- and meat pies;
- the lies of the crystallised.
- L: We'll travel the world
- and spend a week in every country
- Does that sound gnarly?
- Like the beats of Marley?
- J: Honey from a jar,
- An eyebrow from afar
- on par together,
- A reflection of me;
- she sets me free
- A climax on wordplay
- with ink
- we lay
- L: in a position of receiving and giving
- the masculine and feminine -
- both fields play, just like word play,
- I'm forced to simply surrender
- to this ego fuelled agenda
- Two eyeballs
- one soul
- lets go to laughter yoga
- and just LAUGH -
- J: all along our path
- on the raft
- of the currents
- the slow flow
- of life
- L: the water underneath
- this organic bamboo raft
- Cruising down the Amazon
- with the vision of nirvana
- J: Pirhana underwater,
- yeah, that's where they live
- don't just take -
- GIVE!
- Like Laula,
- the explorer,
- oh how I adore her
- L: Oh J, my love seeps deep
- into your beautiful rays
- J: HAPPY DAYS!
- Tuesday 14th May 9: 30pm
- Laula's studio
The friction of this addiction
is a contradiction of the fact,
it’s fiction;
my conviction of the unseen,
in my lucid dreams
and a reality that is obscene.
So I hide my pride
and procrastinate to decide
what’s true inside -
I befriend the end,
in the breakdown of the bend,
descend slowly
into a blend of lies and liberty
the fruit from the tree will set me free.
Here, today, I find my way,
breathe and believe,
no longer deceive the eve
of my existence
Resistance comes with persistence
of ghosts and ghouls,
the cruel jewel
that drips from my lips
into a pool of drool.
Tuesday 21st May, 2013 - Mooloolaba, Sunshine Coast 8:30am
It’s beautiful here - in the place I once called home. It still is home, more than anywhere else I’ve lived in the world. I look out over the Pacific, and switch my focus to a land far far away, across that large mass of water. Gentle winds run through my hair, kissing my cheeks before moving on to the next person, place, moment, memory.
How do I capture this fragment of paradise, before the moment fades away into what once was?
Trees give us oxygen that helps us to breathe.
We cannot breathe money.
I sat on the roof of my parents house the other night with my best friend, and gazed at the sky above us as the gentle zephyrs from the Indian Ocean soothed our souls. The moon lit a path on the ocean breathing in the west, urging us to walk it, and we will one day, we will.
In 50 days we depart this Great Southern Land for the magic and mystery of Peru. In August we go our separate ways - Laula staying in South America, myself setting foot on my last continent before backpacking through Europe for my 4th time.
I won’t be back here in a long time, this much I know. And as the days turn to months, then years, my story will long be forgotten, but the memory of all those sleepless nights spent sitting on that roof, gazing out to the unknown will forever remain my sanity when I think back to this place.
- Camera: Canon EOS 500D
- Aperture: f/13
- Exposure: 1/2000th
- Focal Length: 385mm
