On my own…..

I am lost, searching, forsaken
I wonder where I belong
I hear distant memories whispering

I see a beacon looking for me
The naked one inside of me
I want a map of you
I am lost, searching, forsaken

I pretend I know where I am going
I feel like Baked Alaska
I touch the distance between us
I worry time will not wait for our truth
I cry at the broken things around me
I am lost, searching, forsaken

I understand there is no going back
I say we create our destiny
I dream of Fairy Tale endings
I try to believe in me
I hope we will find each other
I am lost, searching, forsaken

There is a lot of red in my life recently…. as I have noticed from photo’s I have taken.. wonder what thats all about..

Red Sails…. Red Clouds… Red Roofs….Red Leaves….

Red Words…. Passion is red… I think..it must be… it burns me..

I dream of red sand…. of a trailer in the desert in New Mexico…. of running away….just for the sake of doing it, the adrenalin, the escape from the mundanity of another Monday…. a Monday thats not a holiday…

or maybe a street full of puddles in Dublin at twilight….I can almost smell the dampness in the air… I think I dream about those puddles…

I need to run away……

My sun is out of the clouds again..  it’s cold but bright and hopeful…

I have a camera…..I have been playing..!!  and I got my Flickr link working here….

I fell in love with Cat Stevens this morning, and can’t stop listening to The Wind…. my guitar wants me to learn to play it…. I am copying the lyrics here, because they are worth the trip….

The Wind

Happy Solstice people…. it’s the winter one for us Southern Hemisphere dwellers..

Anyway in the absence of midwinter Christmas parties, (we who travelled from the North need our time of light and celebration in the middle of winter…), I made soup… it was supposed to be orange like the sun, but it’s kind of more caramel coloured.. very delicious though.

I was listening to the Wilbury’s, and singing along while making it…hence the name….

Once again I am awake at 3.00am…. and everything is always a bit surreal. Maybe wandering around in this victorian long white nightshirt is part of it…. But night time is a bit like flying….life is suspended, you can’t really do anything… apart of course from contact people online who are in a different time warp altogether.

Its pretty cool (but not very likely!) to have a friend for these times when you really need to offload, someone like minded who doesn’t mind if you text or call them at odd hours, but they are few and far between, I have only ever known one such person. Funny how odd folk can be about that….I have never minded being woken up at strange hours…

I think I like it actually, this never never land, and when the dawn does arrive, you have the hope of a new day. Although usually after an hour or so I am ready for the night again…..

I listened to this beautiful song during my wakeful hours…..

I think I really must have lived a sheltered life…

The other night, my mate was here with his bike…. and we thought about going to this gig in town, it was late, so he offered me a ride on his crossbar…! His bike is like so tall, the saddle is the height of my shoulders, and it was dark and….well I almost wimped out, but remembering the thrill of the last bike ride I almost wimped out of, I climbed aboard! (The wrong way at first… but I have never done this before!)

Wow….! it was thrilling…. can’t believe how fast we got to town, way faster than a car it felt!!! Zooming round corners and I didn’t fall off.

I think I am in my second childhood…. I would just like to ride around on crossbars all day and eat picnics and drive on the beach and get on that other big bike now and then!

I am gonna buy a pushbike for me tho, I had a beautiful one but it got stolen, back in Blighty…this was my old bike.. a Pashley Princess…which I wanted for years and years…long story to that one, but I guess it went with the tower… and as Prince Charming and his white charger had long since absconded with my tube amp..well..I needed transport…

I love these mornings, I like it best before it gets light, and the sky is kind of grungy. I think the fact that I don’t have to get up and work also helps the, lurve the Universe and everything in it.. feeling!

I always found for me that this time of day is the best for tapping into my creative energy. To try and make the most of this, I start something, poetry, developing photo’s, whatever, and then go with it for as long as possible without letting my left brain kick in. This means I don’t do anything that requires being logical, I try not to answer the phone etc, because once I have to employ too much of the other side of the brain, I tend to lose focus.  My mind is kind of on this little cloud space!  I do sometimes do this during the day too… especially on car journeys when I am not driving. Oh and I tend to stay in my PJ’s… but that’s just an excuse.. pyjamas are my very favourite kind of clothing.

Talking of which, I am thinking of getting rid of all my clothes except pyjama’s….. then I will have a good reason to wear them everywhere..

I recently had a long discussion online, about the fall (or not…) of poetry as an art.

The talk was mainly based around how poetry has changed, and moved from the traditional forms… and some people believe this is a bad thing… I am not one of them…

I love poetry.. I love words… I love people’s ability to use words to move me emotionally… or to convey something, better even than a photograph…and I don’t care what form those words are in, if they work.  I am excited that so many people today want to write, and that the internet has given them an outlet to express themselves… I am especially grateful to the poets of today… because you move me….. and you are keeping the art alive and encouraging others..

Its so long since I wrote anything here… and yet…. I think, and do cool stuff and write all the time! So why can’t I make myself blog it? I think I would like to be able to be more *everyday* with this medium,  more natural, just sharing random thoughts and writings… rather than have to have some *subject* to blog about….

Ok blogging sorted, onto my current very surprising passion….

The other day, I was asked by a friend if I wanted to go for a spin on his bike, *ahem*…. the last time I went on a bike was 20 years ago, since then I have become terrified of the things! When I became a mother I started to get all kinds of fears I had never had before, heights, flying, motorways, motorbikes..!! I guess I just don’t wanna die!! My sister is a biker and loves them, but neither she, nor any of the many friends I have known with bikes have managed to get me on one.

So, at first, I sort of tried to wimp out, mentioned my fear etc, but gee, I have done scarier things.. and  So I went…!  I trusted my mate, and his reassurance that it would all be ok… which goes a long way towards making you feel safe, bit also I have gotten to a point in my life, where I am opening up to new things… it rocks!

The experience started with me being told off for my inappropriate dress, but that was soon rectified.. then I had to learn what order to dress in.. kinda hard to do up your jacket when you have already put your lid and gloves on!! Soon we were on the road though, and within 10 minutes I was totally in love with the whole experience!! I cannot believe it, that I have missed this all these years, especially in a country as beautiful as New Zealand! You feel so much part of everything, the colours and air and smells..wow! Its just exhilarating…. of course I don’t need to tell any bikers this.. you know it all already! I even loved the speed and wanted to go faster and faster!! I am totally addicted, I love feeling muscles you haven’t used for ages, even my bony bum being a bit bruised was worth it!!! I just want more and more and more!! I am so thankful  for this experience, and wow…. that it must have been offered at the perfect timing in my journey! Here’s the beautiful bike, a Triumph Daytona… looks just like a bug viewed from the front with the mirrors like little feelers….

There ya go… yet another passion to add to my collection… don’t ya just love the surprises life throws at you when you very least expect it…

Quite recently I got invited to Plurk…. this poem is dedicated to Plurk and Plurkers….

The Plurk Poem

I never was on Twitter
although I heard the odd word…
I didn’t feel like talking to twits
and I have a phobia of birds

But one day I got an invite
to join a friend in Plurkdom
No twittering feathered friends here
just a monster with a bone for a bum

I wasn’t too sure at first
if I really wanted to plurk
so for the first few days
I didn’t do much except lurk

Plurking can be confusing
especially with a brain like mine
I am never sure whether it’s morning or night
or where I am at on my timeline

On Plurk they pay you in karma
it really can be a bind
in fear of losing this stuff
you forfeit life of the other kind

It soon becomes quite addictive
once you start to follow
yesterday runs into today
and some of us plurk in tomorrow

I began to look for Plurkers
with whom I had stuff to share
Olive oil, photography, poetry
the love of my life could be there!

I found a photographer and a poet
and guys who make mouthwatering food
Lots of delicious links are shared
and occasionally something rude!

There are photo’s of beautiful places
and the yummiest chocolate cake
the techies and bloggers rub noses
with knitters and gamers and rakes

You meet interesting people on Plurk
the wonderful and weird are all here
There’s Oscar and Dylan and Charlie Brown
and even William Shakespeare

So if you need some added spice in life
or just an ear to bend
Come dwell for a while in Plurkville
I may even make you my friend…!