I was made for Afternoons

Not much going on here! More on Advent over here if you like . . .

mother feeder healer the earth, our life intertwined with our very being but damaged n mistreated unloved n exploited like child worker taken for what she can give unrepaid unkempt unloved uneven majestic beauty sublime depths sky sea ocean mountain lake waterfall field all designed for our health n enjoyment for play n hope n destiny so freends love our earth with all of yourself nurture it and it will nurture you listen to its rhythms its natural ways n solutions and we might just might find our way forward. Earth.

drought dust despair dehydrating debilitating destructive cut off from water we wrinkle n die it is our 80% our life force rain from the heavens brings life floods destroy oceans bring both refreshment and peace death and despair water marks the moments of our life the waters of birth sustain us the water of life marks our initiation water is a constant companion some are sprinkled with water for healing others dive under fully to mark an event water provides a space to play a place to keep our bodies toned the swirling water of a winters ocean provide me with a strange longing an unanswered need water provides a means of transport we travel overseas we live from this water and now sadly the water is leaving us leaving our world through our own greed or reluctance to co operate with water it has become no longer sacred but a mere commodity we cannot make water for ourselves it is tied to our nature to our mother the earth but it is not too late to emerse ourselves in the wonder of wa...

so begins the elemental exploration . . . fire water earth air those from which we flail if we remove ourselves too far fire is inviting fire is dangerous fire warms and yet burns fire is a warning a death sentence you can be on it in it around it threatened trapped enticed mesmerized you can be fired fire-like firing on all cylinders under fire on all sides bush fires destroy down under a menace to one and all the easter fire brings life n hope candles are lit for remembrance to mark space create romance measure time fire from the stars fills our lives with mystery inspire a thousand poets n lovers fire provides n yet destorys feel the heat brothers n sisters!

between old n new now n zen today n tomorrow dream n the plan sleep n wake birth n death lie the crossing places new years day christmas easter birthdays all are crossing places the old world too before the christ became the norm had it places the mid summer mid winter feasts the equinox's and a million others places where the present moment is as tangible a breath where time seems to stop somehow i have always resonated with crossing places they seem deep within me somehow the feasts of holy mother church drag me in to mystery to that moment even after the initial childhood attractions christmas and easter still hold magic for me i seek ritual and spaces which draw the crossing places out speak out their glory enhance their mystery try not to define their wideness nor diminish their present-ness we hide from crossing places now drown their significance in alcohol or rowdy revelry commercialise their potential reduce their symbols to trinkets we refuse their power to speak we refus...

flickering light outside my door mid morning sun working its magic through the spring growth in here all is muted and calm quiet n cool nothing can be rushed here no darkness can creep its way nothing intrudes on the aural landscape provided by blessed st poddy wind howls heat burns ice melts solar flares threaten and bite but i am safe here in my cave the cave of life the cave of death do I stay here? do I merely recharge before the endless world beckons me forth again? is it a retreat or a re-enchantment a place of mystery or of dreary mediocrity electric light replaces solar blinds n curtains replace the moons velvet night fabric replaces the coolness of grass fans n ac's replace the breeze n ebb n flow of air i replenish my self with overprocessed gifts wrapped in brightly enticing advertising which will last forever no biodegradability for these babies! this sustenance has replaced living from the earth n my hands living through cycles n times living with the whole self ...

beaten by time beaten by my insides beaten, the days taking control before i can place my stamp no celebration this week a week of others endings end of school for some end of lifefor others felt ragged and raged at the end of the week nothing for it but sleep time love. More anon (P.S. Blogging world seems very quiet lately. I hope we are all doing ok . . .)

there is a velvet darkness which sometimes covers the land covers its people obscuring light radiance of any kind blinding all but the most faithful to the possibilities to the beauty to the majesty the richness of life darknesses forces hiding away in corners taking steps to contain lonliness n pain n dissatisfaction seeking refuge in that which only makes the darkness deeper n wider n all consuming some are called to speak the words of light to these to be beacons, if you will of illumination - (no matter how dimly they glow ) leading them out of the land of shadows their task becoming harder n more difficult their rejocing lighter their sadness broader their mission more urgent their faithfulness more steadfast their love more forgiving their hope ever present i return today journeys from other places worried about these and those n places i have been i hold to the future to the promise to the word to the light my beacon continues to turn i wait n hope

hush the music's playing hush the forest's swaying light the candle it will be enough hush hear the children playing hush time's escaping hush all that being said there's more to you than what they say we're more than words can't contain cannot pin point or conceal exactly who we are hush the music's playing hush the forest's swaying light the candle it will be enough hush hear the children playing hush time's escaping hush

rolling tumbling bubbling crashing waves pulling me under spiraling out of control breath expelled heart pounding hands reaching down under desperately grabbing searching pulling me upwards towards light towards air i had been playing cricket on holidays in a remote country town chasing the ball towards the river bank which dropped off suddenly and so did i dropping into the brown flowing water my young body unsure of the current flailed and railed against it its energy supplies soon exhausted i was fighting upwards i can't remember if i even had the ball i do remember being plucked out n laid on the grass panting a friends dad had removed me from my imminent watery grave jack was his name many years later i sought him for some advice on prayer ... this memory stayed with me for years surfaced in my dreams from time to time today i was reflecting that i hadn't had it for a while perhaps parental tiredness perhaps i remember my dreams less now perhaps the memory is healed perhap...

the last days have bought two types of healing in the best sense of putting back together of joining what was broken of restoring. the first - find by stealth an old friend who married another old friend and drive to their house excitement bouncing in your stomach with hope n anticipation. allow a joyous reunion to occur then watch the years melt away as children play wine is drunk meals shared memories recounted laughter roars walks n talks in the nights glow ice cream consumed tired children carried n kissed coffee sipped then fond good byes it is almost over too quick ... and you drive away warmed from reconnection thank you my friends thank you lets do it again soon! the second drive 132 kms north east through the country side take your usual crew the community some wine n food good vibes your children stay in 100 year old buildings play footy with ya son chat with your friends in the morning join the monks for worship the initiation of the youngest of your crew he of three months ...

whirlwind days passed me by like a dream now wednesday as far away to me now as man landing on the moon it was the day of the royal shew the once famous extravaganza of food n cattle n crops n competition now replaced by consumerism at its most extreme brightly coloured bags costing a fortune n containing nothing games promising much n then delivering only a momentary thrill rides to scare stimulate n frighten however it was a good day but it was a very tired street community who made their way home through the streets n on trains that afternoon the next day was the young princes day of birth n what a day!! parties balloons cakes friends parks games presents n champagne time does fly when you parent it sneaks around n suddenly you are parenting a six year old last year he was at whale world n fierce about protecting life this year he has light sabers new friends footballs n loads of attitude he is a comedian a carer usually well mannered loves music but won't sing when you ask him ...

i believe in you i believe in me i believe in my family my children who crucify n resurrect my sense of self transforming me i believe my partner my lover who sustains n travels with me i believe in my friends who know me and still care are hurt by me and still turn up put up n occasionally make me shut up thankyou i believe in a mystery which is deeper wider longer and more powerful than we will ever know i believe in love between children and parents between friends between the mystery and us i believe in god i believe in jesus (but not always his followers...) i believe in the spirit in all things i believe in silence being the way to understanding i believe buddha and krishna had wise things to say i believe in the rule of saint benedict i believe in ritual n rite i definitely believe in incense i believe in music as a healer a lover a force for good or evil a task master a mistress an addiction i believe in cooking as an art as a means of stimulating nourishing healing n freeing i...

tidying house monday sun shining clear spring skies an early morning walk cds of choice baking bread sorting boxes prayers to start the day reflection admonition dairy-free breakfast trying to find some inner space hiding from some inside demons buddhist writings morning pages kilbey -esque reflections listen to bede slowing down ah beginning!

shiny slippery some stand back n just gaze at you the ice freezing your fragile heart others are in your face chiding n scowling jeering n chastising some only for a day others for a lifetime they talk among themselves plot n plan join forces delight in your unsettling waiting long periods until sure you are settled before pouncing out of the unknown then staying for weeks or months or years digging their evil tentacles deep under your skin transforming the way you see the way you feel n act others surface like excalibur majestically rising from deep below these ghosts are easy to frustrate you merely watch their rising n they pass is you let them i am into conquering ghosts banishing them back to their dark kingdom don't get me wrong this is no frank peretti inspired warfare blog nor is it the exorcist 1 2 or 3 the ghosts i banish are the stuff of our days moments of glory moments of failure moments of indescribable blandness just ordinary light n dark stuff each of us find our o...

holidays holy-days ho-lee daze (the little known contemplative chemist from mainland china) whatever they are here here they are and here i am in them plans always feature when you have a break maybe the need to do even when you get time off is an in-built human drive perhaps it is just a protestant work ethic disaster i should've left behind when i was younger so today i sit look at my to-do list and sigh it all seems too hard actually a whole lot of guff to make others happy i want to sit in the sun i want to drink wine i want to get my energy back i want to play guitar i want to read my books i want to write on my blog i want to sit for hours and think about what i want i want to pray i want to visit gallerys n museums i want to play with my kids i want to watch rain fall i want to listen to cd's i just want to be i want to live and let live i want to love n the funny thing is i was taught that what "i want" is selfish dunno where i got this from... but its not i ...

trapped in a silver compartment i escape via my favourite caffeine establishment a meandering walk up a trendy strip past my clients young n old waiting blearily for their transport i choose the stroll for reasons of body n mind to walk some stuff out i listen to my pod back to my church records again as i seek reassurance in kilbeys cryptic lyrics moody sounds of half light rocking other worldly mysticism my effort reaps some reward as i arrive my heart less pounding my spirit somewhat less burdened seeing the wood for the trees the little daily bumps for what they are less cataclysmic more reality n humility n hope still this stuff plagues us self worth tiredness issues unresolved past future present matrix which trap us manipulate and transform us but yet remain as our only means of growth moving the physical or a complete stop slow this process slow the effects of our minds moving too fast our souls can't catch up i walked this morning fro integration for balance 2 find love no...

night comes early rain falls with no pattern first drizzle n then suddenly intense it is my weather my moment power returns to my body creativity surges as the celsius plunges but i know my time is short summer is quickly chasing me stirring up the atmosphere pushing the isobars manipulating the meteorological patterns merely to spite me in summer i hide away endure the three months with callous humour surround meself with books n recordings a few years ago i found a list of great summer recordings q magazine i think it was used to love that rag but through the list i discovered joni mitchell hissing of the summer lawns an art record if there ever was one full of light n dark love exploration of the "pop song" as an artistic medium she surrounds herself with the best of her time the steely dan backing band peerless jazz players who have worked with miles nash n crosby minus stills how could you fail with that crew? the other record nick drake bryter layter an insider recordin...

x=y a=b me=you land=sea us=them now=then black=white time=hope prayer=love guitar=joy work=cash night=thought life=journey=transformation music=exploration children=future food=fuel=movement sleep=re-creation dream=astral slow=stop end=now

nak arrives at work early a day in which nothing is planned nothing prepared nothing required only to be there "your presence is required" like a call to jury duty nak finds this hard inspite of his contemplative nature the world n work n others have made him more a do-er a mover but not shaker and to be, not do as he is now called is alien n frightening he travels over to the temple and celebrates the mystery with a guru whose english requires him to repeat everything he says which makes the celebration interesting to say the least spends some time getting to know his new surroundings moving quietly between buildings stealthily listening to classes watching the place in action humming like a machine bells ring humanity floods coffee is consumed brief conversations ensue much time is spent sitting watching waiting thinking reading guilt floods in periodically n moments of self doubt require attention there is much to be undone unlearnt reestablished healed nak must give himse...

i read. a lot. these days it doesn't seem to matter what i read sometimes a novel spirituality cricket history. now i am at two of my favourites cooking french provincial cooking by the legendary british writer Elizabeth David full of food n stories n ingredients i love but shouldn't have like butter n cream but lots of wine! the other is a book about the other the weird stone of brisingamen alan garner a writer who truly know about mystery strangeness it is a "children's book" but like narnia that simplistic category is meaningless a book of adventure n long forgotten myths that seem part of me i have only briefly left these books are feeding me enlightening me transforming me reading and cooking take me out of myself into a realm beyond i love the sizzle of the pan the glass of wine the art of cooking of blending and joining of creating a meal for my loved ones it is a divine act for me reading too books of garners nature leave me in space inside n outside pro...

running always running keep moving don't stop movement is safety stillness equals certain capture i feel the breeze rip through me like razor wire as i escape the grinder other travellers full of their own journey scurry like factory rats their portable technology either keeping them safe or oblivious this rainy afternoon my red transport is strangely silent n smooth it moves through time n space transporting me in ways yet unfathomed rain falls more heavily now sideways trapping me all around the traffic slows lights flicker as reminders of distant destinations my pod hums its gentle tunes stop wait howling winds encase the city finally we break free the rain ends traffic disperses the god of lights is with me her green power guiding me quickly home out of the snarling afternoon into the arms of my loved ones

we ran n ran through back streets past sand dunes valleys n overpasses ova rivers n grass racing the white lady and her slender companion our urgency fuelled by love and perhaps a little fear... we arrive momentarily before her her radiance warming us spreading out through gathered freends as she is greeted by her companion their vows to exchange words are read tokens exchanged deities invoked blessings dispensed memories are digitally preserved ck n i and a reunited freend drink coffees attack scones the party then begins the red wine flowed n flowed n ... we eat reunite with more lost companions toast the happiness of the couple i avoid the dance flaw preferring the moments of dialogue n sudden poetic inspiration we travel home tales of love lost n won fill our quiet talk... go well new couple fill your lives with love live in love let it fill you transform you move you forwards challenge n change you its a hard road this love it will take all of you n ask for more without a moments ...

last night the poet turned 8 well, she celebrated the real date is tomorrow anyhow we took 7 kids to the movies rat a too eeee cool flick then to the restroom, i mean restaurant 5 kids lovely chinese feast is always an insight to see how your littlies relate with their mates can't believe i am the father of an eight year old but why not? shes cool n calm n bright as a button loves her music n reading n food n dancing is good with people is kind most of the time loves small children and animals can be fiery n difficult too at times we love her happy birthday little poet grow strong and true live in the light believe love give.

new day new school new me tis a strange thing this "ministry" caper to start i need to stop to begin i need to find the others ending to companion others on their journey i need to wait silently and still to speak i need to earn the right to be seen i need to be around but be only me and not the teacher educator type i go through moments of bleakness of despair n hand-wringing self doubt but a smile for a girl you connect with a nod of passing acceptance from an older boy and you feel in some small way to be making some sort of progress to teach them of the mystery it to introduce them to themselves but if you don't know yourself then what hope do you have? i am poet musician all time muttering grumbly artist i am also great cook reader thinker and occasional comic genius explorer lover never fighter parent child friend here's where i start i think be me and let others in then share and move forwards

father day in aus manic n wonderful all simultaneously spent part of the night up with the price he was trying to top the temperature charts yet again but the morning bought him hungry n refreshed day by day he improves the poet bought me gifts made at school n her smile i drank coffee ate french toast brioche and sent ck back to bed for her virus to run its course the two littilies and i spent the day tidying cooking relaxing watching ---------------------------------------------- father hood daddy hood parent hood is still a mystery to me after these eight years prince n poet teach me more than i ever dared realise i see clearly my strengths n experience my weaknesses i know how to bring comfort but my own need for healing becomes ever clearer i can sacrifice my own desires but all too often they surface n confront me in cruel fate i give advice to others on moulding their young n often fail at my own attempts with my two ... the poet nearly eight light n free wants to know it all no...

fever has passed me by but the body is still languishing in yesterdays sleep filled body aching moments thoughts turn dark when defences are down messy things nasty things float around the upper cavities memories r reframed happiness misinterpreted self loathing apparent bitterness ever present it is merely physical not soul-ful a reaction n not a cause a friend shared coffee this morning the exertion to be there in this viral universe i presently inhabit was tough but worth it he talked about closure taking things personally about beginnings n endings the changes age brings faith growth virtual community it was almost too much to take in but so valuable to get the bigger picture when you are fighting the inside n out bless ya mate!

night with the prince high temps n rambles the morning bought his healing the mid morning my infection now i lie and read bones ache energy gone head swims and i too wait for morning

IWMFA broadcast: perfect winters evening ahead relative cold with rain night setting in early red wine n good company a hot meal convivial conversation gathered around the table children in dressing gowns n slippers adults with bright eyes n stories to share mystery discussed or implied in jokes loving glances common ground revisited travelling home through the inner city streets the car quiet the streets deserted classic sounds to soothe prince n poet until they are bundled into bed dreaming of new adventures n possibilities i will retire with a glass of some small magic to my chair listen to the music of the night rain read small parts of A bhishiktananda nod off into moments of blissful respite curl up next to my girl and sleep dreamlessly tomorrows forecast is unknown but there is always hope

old friend here last night of long association with her new companion wine n pasta established lines of communication bring happiness once more we sit n chat n eat introduce the new discuss the old compare notes on time passed the good the bad n the best forgotten. tastes n sounds the children n their hidden interesting lives what became of? what are they doing? do you still see? do you remember? are you still going? there is always so much to discuss much love to share and recreate when old friends meet time slips away. quickly quickly now the adventures of years vanish in an eye blink perhaps in the intricacies of conversation caught in a slip we become the person we were then for a brief moment for better or worse then time slave driver to the last reluctant to be shuttled back n forth reasserts equilibrium we return to ourselves this brief glimpse terrifyingly enlightening and perhaps humorous all at once what progress we have made or not what a path we travelled or return upon wha...

how strange to end up here after all this time. still these beige walls offer some respite an interlude from the crashing ocean within. even as a bystander i wear my dark ensemble de rigeur for these moments sunglasses appear despite the gloom of a winters morn. i wear mine n ck merely looks impassive her long coat drawn as we wait quiet small talk ensues greetings exchanged by gesture family members long not seen renew contacts in silence then gathered together we process. how old fashioned it seems. marching silently together like a motley army but we arrive and take our places there is no pushing or vying for position we merely sit and listen gaze upon the wood n flowers n wonder what could have been. we listen realise how little we knew how little we perhaps truly understood marveled that our experience was a shared one that i was and am not alone in this that love was shared and found in another and then it is finished this moment in time of remembrance consideration celebration...

sunday sans temple sans car trip through the inclement weather sans having to decide was it good or ....? instead it was slow speed coffee books dvds music pancakes yesterdays paper children entertaining themselves adults slow to mentally come round holy - time -------------------------------------------- awake wind howling small child joined me at some point of the night stroking their hair i realise its the young prince disturbed by the night noise he sleeps peacefully by my side no wonder he has all the pillow it is just before 6 but dark as the deepest night rain pours windows shudder my senses increase my wakefulness i worry (again) about the huge palm tree in our garden but it has been here the 40 years of the house and has stood firm so i worry for worries sake somewhat the lad is now silent but awake together we wait warm and secure for the day to begin ----------------------------------- later morning now the sounds fill the house sizzling boiling moving dancing michelle boo...

what inspires you freends? a cough - e? da moosic? painting n poets n pleasure? love? a crush? envy? pain? its a grab bag for me a mixture of all that floats around in the synapses n pathways of the hemispheres last night it was red red wine the church the quiz n the cheese which seems to slow down all the mental work... this morning it is coffee n eggs winny n chant what mixed up masterpiece will come out of all this ? you ask quite rightly perhaps a cafe smart children's space rock spiritual treatise? or 100 culinary quiz questions? a mystical chant on the tao of pooh interpreted and placed on a red wine bottle label? mistress inspiration comes in waves townshend had it down this is THE mystery you play the same thing for days or weeks months even then one day WHAM! it hits you the over played idea becomes a song a symphony a track you're off or not sometimes the inspiration to continue comes hard sometimes not the idea remains that just an inkling of what could be other time...

days are lengthening n my time grows shorter the change from here to there is taking its toll neither one thing or the other not yet finished or begun this strange nether world of boxes n files forms to be completed books returned final partings n first impressions no feeling of belonging at either place perhaps this is a place of strength to be myself stand on my own be my own man the solitary the survivor alpha male but still the shackles hold me... the conversations have changed too now others know I am going into a pastoral role a new man a caring being i am been asked deeper things by my colleagues truths are spoken confidences shared people opening doors to parts of themselves hidden from me in the past years criticism bought to light questions asked observations made tightropes of self being walked tell all to the departing man the wanderer the gypsy he is safe to tell he is safe to complain to he safe to confide in he is safe to ask i am not sure i want to be safe i always thou...

Slowly slowly this afternoon i'm watching the sun come across the neighbours fence the grass of our lawn almost translucent in the mid light heat shadowy field could be me been listening a lot to bede griffiths these last few days a free poddy of his meditation teaching you know him freends student of the narnia creator CSL anglican turned roman lay man turned monk Westerner turned east right brain turned left or is that left turned right you know- from conscious planning mind to feeling being mind follower turned guru man who discovered the feminine in himself teacher writer pray-er explorer of the common ground between and within faiths a true holy man for our times i could listen to his frail authoritative voice forever he was 85 when he gave these talks you can tell within the first sentence he knows he's been there he's felt the divine explored the mystery at depth sitting cross legged on the floor or upright in a chair teaching a c hristianity beyond anything ...

day ends light fades children grab bags n head for the hills lonely sullen teachers gaze silently at their desks sigh heavily leave quickly a meeting fortuitously abandoned rain has fallen effortlessly as the children leave its timing impeccable but now falls harder as others the seniors run for their vehicles whether running early or late no one is sure dark sinister clouds are gathering in the west deep in the roaring forties wind n rain n mood shifts imminent i pack my things my children my leaky bag my book on grief my dreams into the red chariot the children fidget n moan wave at friends still waiting for collection half discuss their day half fight n half tell me things which is pretty cool since that's 1 1/2 they wonder what will happen next we drive through the end of day streets their dialogue an aural wallpaper to my concentrated nothingness we could drive like this for ever but coffee calls as ever and as always we arrive home

i love the city i do i play mental games of country life i flirt with it like a beautiful girl at a party making you feel good with her smile her positive bio rhythms but you both know its just a nice chat little giggle diversion n you'll remember her later with happiness but no attachment thats me n the wide blue yonder to a t love to visit n look but send me home the older i get the closer to the city i want to be cafes obscure little food shops signs in languages you didn't even know existed artists businessmen busy people full stop passers bys tourists school kids going to inner city schools with mates from all over the globe travelling on free buses street musicians plying their trade with humour n various amounts of skill inner city churches mostly deserted weekdays places of beauty n art if ya lucky art gallerys museums festivals n parades train stations packed for the daily grind its home to me my inspiration and more n more the place where i experience the mystery mos...

sits at a chair the map of love laid out splashing in clear water the poet the prince two young bodies being shaped by movement by words of encouragement n wisdom learning to hold themselves the right way the smart way the way of speed n efficiency i push myself through laps forcing this unfit temple to obey to be chastised for some unimaginable sin try to breathe trying not to stop concentrate imagine fish but not fried ... i leave this cold dungeon sit with tea n my beads watching the littlies going back n forth their young teachers guiding n admonishing in equal amounts keeping focus. all the while i just breathe n sit n watch until cold bodies leave the water to be smothered in towels n cuddles n kisses quickly resplendent in fashionable outfits guided to the vehicle this is the moment for grumpy n snappy to arrive until we are home for nourishment literary spiritual n physical before pooh and lights out

do we ever truly escape the past? does its influence within us ever cease? can we be freed even if we desire such a thing? long forgotten moments of unawareness dis-compassion ego driven selfishness what-the-hell-was-i-thinking-ness bite and maul as if they had been biding their time like stalking wolves some i know suffer with the black dog a universe of grey n more grey where nothing is happy or sad it just is i suppose this is the same when my defences are down fear comes skulking its heels back the real n unreal the healed n wounded imaginary n true all vying for my attention my self worth plummets a knot in my stomach the comrade at arms immobilised all seems real when these moments occur the worst will happen i shall be penniless my family shall leave abandoned damaged spurned broken ... this how fear leaves me shaken not stirred exhausted needing compassion companionship but afraid to receive it for fear... so i write freends to you getting it out breaking it open i seek silence...

afternoon sun take the cup shaky hands tremble with excitement n longing perhaps desperation daily dose pale fluid golden friend flaxen princess grass beech oak its dryness strangely soothing the end of day reward social stimulant fear reducer a glass or too makes you the affable companion one more a staggering poet the fourth in friendly slumber encased vino the drink of love of the novel of the poor and the rich in our sweet country the glut beyond belief wine of ridiculous worth sold for less than a meal its worth concealed the science of the vine a ticket to freedom a slow change in our culture from hops to grape in the words of the haggadah blessed are you lord for you created the fruit of the vine cheers!

today a visiting lad spoke at the temple about listening to the mystery actually he used the g word but you know... and it was good n solid n entertaining but not a mention of silence ahhhh blessed silence which teaches n admonishes strengthens brings you to tears confuses enlightens crowds makes space our greatest companion our deadliest enemy the challenge the goal n the journey i try to teach the poet n prince about silence looking quiet waiting but childhood in the west seems to negate any hope of that sort of thing the young prince is a natural contemplative it seems he takes life slowly lives the moment fully he often can't be rushed he'll do whatever it is when he's ready -especially when it comes to school! any parent will tell you how frustrating this can be how to go slow is impossible when theres music school sport church ballet cafe swimming biblestudy party to get to n i have resisted until the last few days when i have found myself thinking maybe he's righ...

i'm sort o tired of all the music reviews only ozzie band the whitlams n van the man morrison really left anyway hope ya enjoyed a walk through my itunes loads more in the cd cabinet anyway might pick a few out for ya later --------------------------------- last few days bit o job bit o self bit o this n that growth n pain visit to the dr for the inevitable blood test results et cetera seems i'm alive little over weight over stressed over it! so i need to chill eat better walk more riding even betta nothing new i'm hoping the new job is a new life and its up to me to make it so stress abounds at the salt mine this week i let the cat outta d bag a little early telling my class and their parents i was leaving without going through the right stuff but... oh well i'm letting it go today whole family out for brekkie at the fave cafe long macs n babycinos n eggs all round then education super store to purchase reading help for the young prince (who is at age 5 is h...

great way to continue the s' steely dan anal audio stereo sound aficionados songwriting humorous meaningful beat n down town session musicians abound in house dry humour no respect for the industry in which they fashion their craft sublime aural experiences grooves just so esoteric harmonies this album the royal scam is the boys trying to be rockier harder n funkier social commentary family breakdown political comment its all here plus larry carlton on fire throughout the session and bernard purdie on the kit i dont listen to it as much as i did but it still rocks me! The stones rose self titled debut lp fools gold the single wah wah funky lates 60's inspired psychedelic bliss bomb this was the real precursor to brit pop they were awesome or bloody awful depending on the gig the band tight the singer fashionably disengaged good stuff from a young band style council my first obsession the first band i bought magazines for saved my meager pocket money to buy import singles lps ep...

break in transmission caused by children weather poverty illness climate change and a busy day p is for paul weller the jam the style council solo career what can you say about a man who had a recording contract at 18 formed one seminal band playing mod wrote about his growing up as a late teen resonated with a whole generation broke it up so he could move on amidst tears rumours n spite formed a complete different outfit played soul n jazz n funk and when he had done that went out on his own became a icon and mentor to a generation reinvented himself kept moving forwards confronted criticism head on (a bit too head on actually...) and continues being out there pushing himself? What do you say? Well done mate! He is a seminal influence to me. The music i come back to the music which makes me up n happy makes me want to rock makes me buy pointy shoes n striped shirts and new suits is his thank you paul . now i've grovelled i have to do it again pete townshend influenced weller so...

k l m n o brothers n sisters any of you resonating with this stuff any music you love? hate? never ever heard of odd record to start today keith jarrett jazz piano player extraordinaire played with miles his own group on this album he plays Bach on piano, pretty straight but its beautiful restrained ethereal perfect lovely stuff next lowell george n little feat classy writing n playin george was a guitarist of the highest calibre rootsy n southern funky n blusey this band rocks n rolls stumbles n slides the tunes heart felt the themes universal love lost found n screwed up and drivin trucks but through it all gorgeous musicianship sublime piano playing from bill payne who played with james taylor after this they're pretty unknown outside the US and word-of-mouth communication but you can trust me freends this is gold luka bloom he of odd guitar tunings n racks of effects brother of irish singer songwriter national hero christy moore loved this debut album the rest are very very coo...

morning began with mayhem long delayed blood tests n coffee at usual haunts now freends its back to you f finn brothers couple of albums here furst won an experimental unfinished sort o thing second one fully produced rock monster songs about family n life n ageing good stuff The fray next loved this song of theirs over my head(cable car) didn't dig the first single so much a good lovey pop song with a moody riff n some cool alternative literary lyrics oh i forgot about this one the jam direction reaction creation box set they were amazing re interpreters of the mod tradition in the punk/post punk era 7 albums or so in 6 years incredible song writing from weller solid support for the other two guys and an impact beyond many others a true peoples band giving voice to a working class generation full of boredom hopelessness despair thats entertainment town called malice start the list goes on this box set is awesome too booklet 5 cds extras the lot get it for yourself not always e...

straight in the church my boys not an unusual story talent songwriters have early success poetry space tunes rock kilbey and wilson piper crafting something interesting in the early post punk era of '81 drugs collapse some great music some not so great then beyond all belief reinvention two incredible acousticy albums and a rocking up electric one check our priest=aura uninvited like the clouds hmmmm crosby stills n nash the first wooden album suite judy blue eyes clever song, clever title love this record harmonies to die for have definitely over played it but i still get tingles thinking of them at woodstock what a gig ahhh here's some class crowded house i've waxed about em before neil an incredible writer arranger the boys some of the funniest live shows i've ever seen never saw 'em live, just the dvd and now they're back awesome. Curtis a one name musician always means greatness stevie miles marvin isaac see what i mean? this is a compilation of ...

no more random thoughts looking today at my itunes from a - z the musicians the artists the songs the how-the-hell-did-that-get-in- theres first cab Arvo Part genius minimalist composer orthodox foundations (as in the one holy orthodox church) pathos beauty restraint try his miserere or te deum for starters it'll change your life! next Band Aid Do they no its xmas lets move on shall we? The Beach Boys Pet Sounds Got this because Mc Cartney said it was a great influence i like it but don't love it probably need to spend more time with it moving on to The Beatles I mean what can you say? All those great tunes awesome arrangements you keep listening and 2o years later you hear things you haven't heard before this is music i have travelled with loved to cried to and experienced if you haven't, you should. Ben Lee Australian wunder kid teen pop musician Last album about breaking up n growing n spiritual awakening We are all in this together is a key track for me Bill...

strolling the puppy ipod blaring me favourite tunes a little sanctuary whilst exercising the heart thinking i think more clearly when i'm walking. this little audience you n me freends just the two of us talking n thinking trying to get ya to think to feel how i feel see things my way is it a huge exercise in ego a desperate need to connect or a hobby a lite diversion for the soul?

today day of talk with the nurse who took my bp (still high btw) finding out she has completed her degree only a short time ago after been a nurse in a hospital for ages and talking bout my new job n all that means with a fellow traveller about power structures about hierarchy about decision making about families about change and all of this in a library of all places with my lovely assistant who listens to me reassures me praises me blows up my ego like a balloon reflects with me laughs at my silliness n loves me nonetheless with the prince and poet in da auto on da way to school bout helping n obeying n other boring stuff and bless em they quoted me back word for word on the way home! with the Lord of all without words but with love sometimes in fear but with hope longing for silence seeking it there and hoping to stay

stopped wound down out to lunch pausing a complete stand still holy-day down time a night i'd rather forget poet and mrs each ill baths n buckets n sips of water has led to a day which I needed unable to go out for breakfast unable to drive one and one half hours to visit my parents unable to be at the temple instead late up books television computer a walk napping a coffee soup the littlies are unsure how to handle this and i realise for all my piousness about space n prayer n time we are as driven as the next fam n need to stop for our lives for my heart for our faith for each other and just be. blessing to you this day freends

recovered from yesterdays drs visit n blowing up the ecg machine by having two littilies for a sleepova then an early morning tis a wonder the ticker didn't crack a wobbly n stop right then. after the weekend morning rite of car cafe coffee coming-to-my-senses we went to see roly the clown at a local holy place n the kids loved it n he was funny n made a lot of jokes about church structures n stuff a brilliant one about archbishops coming out which the littlies missed altogether thank goodness he balanced n juggled threw in bit of the mystery story n it was great loads a kids n parents n fun n food how the universe should be but what was not so great was the sheer volume of crossed frocked collared professionals wandering around with an air of confidence in their relevance simply by being there smiling benignly proud to holy men n women i always struggle with this one half of me wants out there un ashamedly self possessed faith the other half knows hiddenness and darkness ...

fear loneliness agitation more fear my heart beating like a bat out of hell (sorry Mr Loaf) connected to a machine for a short time counting the beats (or lack of) from my heart eager dr watching the screen until it broke thats right i broke the machine or my heart did no means to record the beat the hip hop trance of my life source broken heart breaking heart achy breaky ... sorry folks. but as it appears i am ok heart doing a few back flips a few beats disappearing in the ether but all normal besides so in the modern way knowing that i am ok we send the mystic man for a battery of tests to cover the medical profession to pursue what we know is not there for fear of retribution. How much of what we do is governed by fear of what others will do? cash opinion social status all can be undone by anothers hate or so called "rights" their greed to control have you not seen this freends the scramble for the top the lust for more desire for that which we have not original sin re...

re listening to the latest crowdies album more this week neil is concerned with deeper things than usual the opening track nobody wants to a meditation on our personal and societal reluctance to discuss death and pain in any way we used to cry we used to say why it sometimes seems like years of trying to break the cycle of the alpha macho male have achieved nothing those men i know well just seemed confused actually we don't what we are or what we're meant to be and we're lucky we have women in our lives who let us explore next track don't stop now... is the devil gunna track me down... sometimes you have turn the wrong way round.. have you been there? when the only way back to redemption of some sort or another seems to beto reinvent yourself maybe going back the way you've come but with new eyes maybe doing all you didn't do the first time around later songs take up connected themes but theres time for them another day for now i am encouraged that someone is a...

the littlies back today yesterday i spent half the clock talking about progress about what had been done n undone about the future and the past some heard it well some didn't want to hear that all was not well with their offspring (sigh) i see it i really do but the truth is not easy anytime and especially when the children are little and are only beginning this great journey we expect fully formed little humans the opportunities for exploration for growth for delving n diving are small no more after school by the creek tearing around town on your bike playing street football with ya mates now its all catch up worksheets french horn lessons Chinese whispers dancing hedgehog training god, what a mess we are making over stimulated under creative tired stressed under tens we expect brilliance in everything no time for failure for learning its all win win win now now now succeed succeed succeed take take take take beat beat beat higher faster longer more more more what a disease my rep...

i remember when i was younger thinking that as you get older issues would resolve themselves i'm not talking big things here freends but simple personal things like when i'm thirty i'll be more confident (fat chance) when i'm more experienced i'll be more organized this or that will come more easily when i am older wiser richer holier and its simply not being the case with me some things do indeed take on a lesser significance like doing things in public (nice things - like singing or speaking) worry me less other things like my health worry me more somethings like seeking approval balancing the budget worrying bout offending people seem to be much the same really different intensities but always there under the surface i don't think i'm alone in this this ravage which tears at you when you least expect it it is a loneliness an enforced solitude from which there can seem no escape fear of pain shame isolation loss all is loneliness and love the only cu...