never give up on love.

an old journal entry.

i think in some wierd way everything we go through completely moulds and determines who we are and who we become. does that make sense? does anything? hours roll into days and days roll into weeks and weeks roll into months and before we realize life has passed us by like towns on a highway. countless moments and memories turn into lifetimes until we are catapulted onto our death-beds where we question the very notion of our existence. i should have done this or that, why did I do something and forget to do something else. it’s these questions that keep us alive and yet, it seems, simultaneously go to sleep with our souls when we die. how do we prevent the inevitable and ensure that we are fulfilled, loved and satisfied, no, more than satisfied, deliriously happy with life and all of its beauties and opportunities. we live for now, we dream, we revel in joys, excitement, love and even disappointments. For it is these that eventually form one ever-changing, miraculous and challenging thing. the thing that is life. and so I ask myself what I can do to suck every last drop from this lifetime? i want to be fearless in the face of change, optimistic when things seem completely screwed up and ultimately happy. afterall am i not the captain of my ship, the master of my destiny...?

mediterranean meltdown.

the dreamer.

he is a dreamer, a thinker, a speculative philosopher...

i miss.

dinner for one.

I made this tonight and was so delicious I had to share....





ingredients:
one pork chop
one corgette (baby marrow)
three baby potatoes halved
a few pieces of butternut
one green golden delicious apple cut into wedges
olive oil
soya sauce
garlic
ginger
a few sprigs of fresh thyme
lemon juice
salt and pepper

use a nice little oven dish (big enough for all of the above). rub olive oil into the pork chop. liberally rub salt into the fat that will become the delicious golden crackling. use about two teaspons of soya sauce drizzled over each side of the chop. throw in all of the veggies. use the apple with the skin on it's sweet and delicious. leave the garlic cloves whole they become so tasty and soft when baked. chop up a little ginger and add that too. spread the sprigs of thyme over the veggies. finally a dash of lemon juice, olive oil and black pepper and some chilli if you so desire. put it in the oven at about 200 degrees celcius for roughly 25 minutes or until the veggies are soft and your pork crackling is golden and crispy.

bon apetit

x

tiny dancer.

i found this poem in a book when i was cleaning out some boxes today. i wrote it when i was still at school.... the words are suprisingly poignant and relevant.

sadness, emptiness clogged up inside
crumbling rocks crash upon dew-kissed grass
emotions too strong to hide
like butterflies upon flowers they dance



she clasps the key to her tumultuous world within
as fear, anger and questions beat
at her confused heart. What sin?
has made her as heavy as concrete



at times the butterflies dance with resounding strength
abusing innocent flowers in their way
no matter the length
leaving only a dismal grey



she is in pain for as long
as the butterflies dance
at different beats to an unsung song
she dares not glance.

fighting the sunday blues.

fish and chips wrapped in yesterday's paper. not enough salt and vinegar. colourful cushions and blankets sprawled inside the back of a shiny black bantam. moody eastern cape skies above. a two litre coca cola and some mellow jams. every sunday should be spent like this. with laughter and friends and food to fight the sunday blues. and just when you think the day couldn't get better. the clouds make way for the sun. somehow along with all the blues that monday brings there's some sunlight left for sunday.

polaroids.

there is something so authentic and old school about polaroids. i found this really cool polaroid maker on the internet. download it for free at www.poladroid.com

strawberry fields forever.

Let me take you down, 'cos I'm going to Strawberry Fields.
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hungabout.
Strawberry Fields forever.

Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see.
It's getting hard to be someone but it all works out, it doesn't matter much to me.
Let me take you down, 'cos I'm going to Strawberry Fields.
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hungabout.
Strawberry Fields forever.

No one I think is in my tree, I mean it must be high or low.
That is you can't you know tune in but it's all right, that is I think it's not too bad.

Let me take you down, 'cos I'm going to Strawberry Fields.
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hungabout.
Strawberry Fields forever.

Always, no sometimes, think it's me, but you know I know when it's a dream.
I think I know I mean a "Yes" but it's all wrong, that is I think I disagree.

Let me take you down, 'cos I'm going to Strawberry Fields.
Nothing is real, and nothing to get hungabout.
Strawberry Fields forever.
Strawberry Fields forever.
Strawberry Fields forever.

-the beatles

the dark blue sea.

"There is a place in the pathless woods. There is a rapture on the lonley shore. There is society where none intrudes by the deep sea and music in its roar. I love not man the less but NATURE more." - Lord George Gordon Byron- The Dark Blue Sea

the magic bus.

take me away far far away...through the night and into the day.. sparkle and glisten and give me wings... free me from all of these terrible things.

sweet dreams are made of these.

spanoli.

hola from palma de mallorca. i board the thomson dream tommorrow morning after a quaint evening of delicious food and red wine. i have discovered an instant love affair with spain and cannot wait to find out more. besos xxx

another day. another time.

Once you have traveled,
the voyage never ends,
but is played out over and over again
in the quietest chambers,
that the mind can never break off
from the journey.

- Pat Conroy (1945 - )
The Prince of Tides

the palm tree parlour.

my obsession with palm trees started in thailand and has flourished fervently ever since. tropical and whimsical. they remind me of days in the sun with toes in the sand and blissful contentment. they remind me of a place where time is irrelevant and scorching summer days roll into perfect summer evenings. they remind me of exploring an island on a scooter with the wind blowing recklessly through my hair. they remind me of banana smoothies of decadant hour long massages. they remind me of being in a completely foreign place and yet feeling so at home.

but most of all they remind me of the Thai phrase "mai plu" - no worries...

i thought.

“Rainfall
A line joining heaven and earth
Some peoples only connection.”

this and that.

self portraits.

be true. be free. be you.

how do you explain a feeling of perpetual confusion? it slowly encapsulates your body. clawing its way into your flesh and surging towards your soul. what do you do when you want to be happy with all that you are but your mind and your heart are tangled and torn between everything and nothing simultaneously. you don't know what you want but you do.

be true. be free. be you

thought for the day.

" we’ve got our deepest hopes tattooed on our eyelids, so when we sleep we speak fireworks..." - anon

euphoria.

its easy to take things for granted. we do it everyday. forgetting to appreciate the little things in life. rain on your face. wind through your hair. the smell of the ocean. grass beneath your barefeet. a hug from a friend. a smile from a stranger. and the simple fact that every day without fail the sun will rise. so we can succumb to a perpetual state of mind-numbing nothingness or we can choose to revel in life's splendour in euphoric oblivion. alive and kicking.