held

‘I am who I am and I have the need to be’ - The Little Prince.

in the chaos I count myself lucky to be held by those that bring me joy. I try my best to hold them too, counting my blessings as I go.

I treasure what I’ve been given and so lucky to hold. 

tomorrow always comes. I hope it’s happy for you. 

never forgetting. holding it all in that place no storm can reach. <<

sublime

a chaotic period in my heart and mind. I feel and know that I am here.

a strange time. I played my first team sport since I was nine, feeling inadequate and incapable in ways I had not since my days on the soccer field. a profound experience. I was a child again. grateful to have been in the presence of friends on the field, even without their knowledge of how I felt. the fear and dread was validating for my nine year old self.

I attended the opera with Peter, my grandparents’ dear friend. an evening of entertainment not like anything else I’ve ever seen.

being held by friends. Millie passed through briefly just the other day. Nash and I called on Friday night, filling each other in on where our hearts and heads are at right now. I spent last night with dear ex-stucco friends, and rekindled an old friendship over lunch today. I count my blessings as I pass through each day.

Matilda returned from Europe today. Mum just landed in Rome. I wish I could be with her right now.

I have no idea what I’m doing. at least I liked Barbie.

<<

the stream

the days pass so quickly. my time home is over, and once more I’m back in the city. I climb up my loft bed and it’s as though the island was just a dream.

I slept on the flight, dozing in and out of thoughts of people and places I love and miss. my heart still yearns to hold it all, and it continues to weigh heavy knowing it can’t. wanting to have all I’ve ever loved in present tense: a foolish fantasy.

I walked through my hometown this morning. my parents held me before saying goodbye this evening. I painted for my mother, hugged my dear cousin goodbye as he sets off on his new life overseas. before bed, I stick a letter to the wall, one I’ve kept close since leaving Lewes. Sam Williams (friend, writer/director of Timepieces and recently viral comedy sensation) writes: nothing is ever lost / you can find me with one foot in the stream.

I don’t know what any of it means but I know that I’m lucky. <<

the island

I slip back in as though I’d never left. my room is as I left it, give or take a couple of bags stuffed full of mum’s work knick knacks at the foot of my desk. the crane still hang precariously from the threads shooting out of the chinese lantern sprouting from the ceiling. postcards of favourite paintings still tacked to the white walls. the overflowing shelves of books still collecting dust in my absence. no matter where I am in the world or my mind, my room seems to stay as it always has.

Joely holds the moon, gifted to me by none other than Steph.

precious moments with cherished people. I am lucky to be held by those who love me. I bought Danish pastries for my grandma and gave her a drawing of her husband nursing me when I was a baby. she’s still painting and sewing for people she loves. age is not stopping her.

appreciating our island home. so much I wish I could share with my friends from afar. I want to take Jan with me on these hikes, show Nash the caves and beaches, walk with Eliu and hear her laugh. I want to see people I know I’ll never see again. they’re in my thoughts as I try to see my island home through new eyes.

a weekend with my family. holding each of them close and wishing I could keep those I love with me wherever I go. Mum had us painting together as we drank our wine. I painted the kunanyi, the mountain I’ve been raised at the feet of, ascending into the clouds. I dream of taking this world with me as I try to stretch my heart across the oceans to be at once with all that matters to me.

silly silly thoughts. <<

living in the liminal

the distance only grows. I think of everything I’ll never be. can something ever truly belong? <<

mood rings

I spend more time commuting to and from

work than with friends these days. it’s a strange way to be living, and everyone seems to be on board with it. the thought of continuing this way forever upsets me. I count the good things. how lucky I am to have work, a safe place to sleep at night, food in my fridge, a fridge in the first place.

Anje reminds me to be on the lookout. there are good things hiding in plain sight. I try to remember to notice them and appreciate what I witness as it passes.

the house is cold, it’s warmer outside most of the time. if I make the time, on my Wednesday afternoons I try to read in the park, savouring the afternoon rays. I gravitate to the periphery of the lawn as the shadows of the trees loom closer. they always win as the sun dies. so it goes.

I feel small and insignificant and this is a good thing. in these feelings I try to find comfort in the midst of not knowing who I am or why I’m here. I lean on loved ones and relish their embrace and think of those too far for me to reach.

I wore my mood rings yesterday. their colours hardly changed, I guess they’re broken. maybe the cold is too harsh for them this winter. maybe they’re just exhausted. it shouldn’t really matter. <<

fragments

I lose track of time and weeks fly. trying to make time for things that matter. hoping for balance but needing to work harder to achieve it.

relishing the night time. trying to appreciate moments of silence without pulling myself apart for not turning them into something magical.

wanting to explore.

never escaping the forever feelings.

always tired without ever having done much at all. trying to find comfort in remindinv myself I have been lost for a very long time, that this is not new, that some answers don’t exist. <<