somewhere to go

every day brings new breath and new thoughts between what’s been before.

time is racing. it’s always this way come the end of the year. December just days away. 25 in under a month. so silly I could laugh.

walked through a cemetery overlooking the open ocean of the east coast. lucky ghosts resting with such a stunning view. 

it goes on forever and we are so small. I look out and wonder if anyone might be looking back in my direction from some other coast someplace else.

always walking through moments and places I wish I could share with those I’ve loved. I remind myself they’re always around in one way or another. memories and dreams mean something more than nothing.

Matilda surprised me with a trip to the theatre as an early gift. she knows I don’t like birthdays, so decided to spoil me early, blindfolding me as we made our way through the city. a remarkable Belvoir production - ‘the master and Margarita’; an existential odyssey about legacy, storytelling, love, loss, and the wide messy spectrum of the human condition. my head is still spinning.

as Jenae touches down in Europe, and Joely adventures her way around Japan, I set an early alarm. heading home for a little while. decisions to be made as December looms. how lucky am I to have somewhere to go. <<

sleeping enough

I’m sobering to the realisation that I dread my own company. every day I do my best to fill each moment with noise - distractions and people to keep my mind busy and far from itself. when I stop and am left to sit in the silence the wheels start to fall off. this is something I need to work on, but the task seems a little much to face all at once. I need to srop running if I’m to grow and keep going.

I sleep in the afternoons now. this isn’t something I take pride in, but I remind myself it’s important to listen to my body and what it needs. I’m not sleeping enough, and these naps - however unwanted - do their bit in keeping me balanced. I slip in and out of dreams, some of which grace me with the company of people I love. I wake and miss them more than I would’ve otherwise.

Bip and I woke early and ran together yesterday. we went to coffee after and updated each other on where we’re at. I feel listened to and loved by her. time between seeing each other does little to these friendships. the precious ones. counting these blessings as I navigate every tomorrow and prolong decisions that pave the path to wherever it is this is going.

Orpheus lingers. no thoughts, all feelings. <<

less

I sat on the rocks at the beach with Amelia and Nic today. the clouds rolled over and as I watched I envied them: the freedom to pass over everything without attaching themselves to anything at all. I swam in the water for the first time in months, opening my eyes to the salt as I enveloped myself in the cold. in the sea I’m connected to every shore I’ve ever known. the same water I swam in as a child laps at the Sussex coastline, the cliffs of the Seven Sisters I climbed with some other family in another life. we breathe the same air and look to the same stars for some shred of assurance that this does in fact mean something. we still share so much, no matter the distance between us. remember this. <<

safe and happy

November now. bonfire night. the storefronts in Lewes high street would be all boarded up and ready for the festivities tonight. this time last year I was in the crowd with some of my dear friends. we revisited the world we used to call our own and burnt our fears on paper cranes. like my fears, thoughts of that life and the things I miss still linger. I will always be missing something or someone, no matter who or where I am.

we wrappped up another play. this one was a hard slog - the text was confusing and a bit rough around the edges. two week season. Isaiah came to watch, as did Mils. we pulled through and I was lucky enough to make some new friends.

I see people I miss in dreams and wake to the reality of their absence, sobered in sadness. my best friends are out of reach. I listen to my heart and try to sit with how I’m feeling. some nights I feel like a child and just want to go home. it can feel like everything’s spiralled out of control - ‘this is just a nightmare, soon I’m going to wake up…’ I listen to music and call my parents to hear their voices. sometimes I look at old photos and count what I’ve had as treasures that might not have lasted, but can’t be truly lost. I remind myself I am lucky.

I wonder if they’re doing okay out there. selfishly, I wonder if they ever think of me. I hope they’re safe and happy. <<

forever

I wake up every day. they all start and end the same - my head on a pillow with a breath. every day this way, no matter what happens. no matter what is going on beyond me and my world. genocide and famine and flood. me and my pillow and the freedom to wallow in self pity or commit to a good night’s sleep. 

thinking a lot about Gaza and just how awful we can be to each other. embarrassed to be human. lost as to where to go with these feelings. I went to a rally and listened to the people chanting. I see so much on my screen. brunch with the girls and hospitals losing power. throwback Thursday and children crying for their mothers in the rubble. it’s ridiculous and we’re all watching. I’m speechless. 

back onstage with SUDS - a coming of age comedy about growing up in Canberra. a nice distraction. I let me mind wander and worry about line delivery and other things that mean nothing at all in the scheme of things. I call my brothers and miss my friends. sometimes I think about the future. mostly I still dream of what’s already been. <<

a hat on the tracks

I saw a hat on the tracks on my commute to walk. every now and then I spot something out of place and it reminds me I don’t want to be caught in the ongoing spiral that is this routine.

it’s been warm. I wear shorts to work most days now. the evenings are nice outside. I had a lovely picnic with Jenae and Nic the other day. watched a lovely movie with John. calling my parents most days, and leaning on my brothers always. I couldn’t ask for more care or love from them.

Bipasha is trying to get me back into running. we did ‘park run’ at Sydney Park yesterday before voting. we’re trying to spend more time together. I’m so lucky to have her. the referendum loss has me embarrassed to live and breathe as an Australian. all I can hope is that we are shamed to no end on the global stage. we are a pathetic country and I can only pray we grow up.

a lot of theatre between everything else. rehearsals gearing up for opening next week. a nice cast - no egos, which is a real blessing. at the cellar most days now, not making time for much else beyond work and rehearsals. trying to start reading again. maybe Italian again soon.

Fieke is in England. she placed two of my cranes in a special spot in Lewes. she spent the evening with Lexi drinking at Landsdowne. surreal to think she can go back whenever, when it’s all so far out of reach for me. I think of that time every day still. unanswered questions and perpetual longing. I will always miss.

nothing wise to say. it’s always just another day. counting what is good as I go. <<

love never dies in memory

I relished the momentary freedom from reality - spending most of my time between Isaiah and Millie, theatre at night, cartoons in the morning, never left alone with my thoughts. 

Cadi had been driving along the coast - all the way from Taroona. we spent Saturday morning reflecting on our shared confusion with our own humanity by the stream on campus. she is a remarkable individual, and I leave every time our paths cross feeling understood and a little more fulfilled.

mum and dad and Millie and Nic and Isaiah all in one room for one night - closing night of Zi’s show. whisked away back to Sydney in no time the next morning. 36 degrees. I slept all afternoon and woke to an evening of television with my housemates. in the theatre every evening this week - twice for graphics on Aidan’s show, twice for rehearsals. I keep moving and try to look forward.

I try to avoid silence. when it comes I lean into something else - I find noise and I wrap it round myself like a pillow I don’t want to leave. I wish I were a kid again, though I wish I cared less and could just get over myself.

and there’s that line from the closing song. I think of it and my heart doesn’t know what to do. is it true? what does it even mean? is memory real? why does it always feel so far? I sleep without answers and wake up again. <<