ebb and flow

everything moves for a moment. there is fluidity to every second and I have long since given up on trying to keep track of it all. each day brings newness and something foreign to the stream. I stay put with one foot left on land.

last weekend my family and I visited Isaiah in Canberra. we watched him perform in a production he’d been involved in for quite a while. I was so proud of him. in his company I realise just how much I miss his being close to me, and just how much I love him.

I relish the friends I’ve been spoiled with. the luck I’ve had to find the people that shape my experiences is something I’ll never understand. Nic and co. looking out for me. Stucco welcomed me home whenever I need it. how lucky can one person be?

filling space and time to make some kind of meaning. distraction is bliss! we opened Eurydice on Wednesday. four of eight performances have passed. some nights I feel close to the text and Orpheus. I’ve not cared for a character this deeply in forever. it’s a real gift.

thinking about music.

looking for what’s been lost.

losing everything that mattered.

overwhelmed with the support of my friends, showing up each night to listen to our silly story and cheer us on. seeing Bernice smile brings me deep joy.

living at the theatre through performance weeks and learning more about Orpheus each night I spend in his clothes. I wish I knew him better, though I’m lucky to be knowing him at all.

Blake surprised me at the show. we drank bubble tea and visited a gallery and the Chinese garden of friendship. dumplings and noodles for lunch. a beautiful Sunday. I called Fieke in the evening - she plans on visiting this summer. a year ago today I was with Nash in New York. time. does the ebb and flow ever make sense?

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Jenae’s podcast

I spoke about writing here last night. for her course, Jenae is creating a podcast series about people preserving memories online in different ways. she knew about this page, and reached out to ask if I’d be happy to talk about it. until that point she hadn’t interviewed friends, so I tried to remind myself to not let our familiarity with and fondness for each other get in the way of my responses.

she asked me to read a blog post of my choosing aloud. this is something I’d never done before. answering her questions made me realise things about this space and why I still use it. I hardly ever go back to read and relive where I’ve been, though I still feel the need to tie experiences and feelings to words here. why? I think I left the conversation with unanswered questions about my own motivation and pursuit of meaning. but it was special to sit with Jenae in this context and force ourselves to be vulnerable for each other. the friendship felt present tense last night. she is a wonderful listener and a champion in my life.

it’s a strange conversation to mull over in this space. Jenae’s questions have reminded me of the filtering of emotions I do without realising when writing here. where do those other thoughts and feelings go? I’ve been bad with my journaling - I’m always much better when I’m travelling. I know the time always comes and I’ll spend the time it takes to write what I remember with a pen on paper, just for me. but I wonder what makes it so easy here - or what appeals to me about it. how much of it is my own vanity, the awareness that someone else out there might be reading along and thinking of me? I can remove mirrors from my room and hide my face. controlling my thoughts is a lot more complex.

he is looking at the world outside. the expression in his face reads as though he’s unimpressed. I like this photo. the window is dirty, like my glasses often are. his view of the world is tainted by the smear on the glass. somedays my view is tainted more than others. but I still have to keep my eyes open regardless. this is the way.

missing those I love and can no longer hold. counting what I am lucky to have and treasuring it as best I can. <<

limbo living

limbo living at the moment. days are the spaces between sleep. dreams feel like life sometimes, a life where I find myself less tired and less restricted by the limitations of logic and my own humanity.

on the move a lot. occupying myself with enough to never be left to my thoughts. I think this is helpful right now. I see friends and call my parents and fill empty space with excuses not to stop. writing and reading and running and drifting.

I take a moment to appreciate my capacity to see the world through the eyes I’ve been given. nobody else has this opportunity, and I’ll never truly see the world from the eyes of anyone else. we’re all seeing something different in the same spaces.

I miss every day. this is forever and this is okay. one day at a time for forever and a half. <<

permanent places

one day at a time. trying my best to notice the good and not take what I have for granted. warmer weather. songs that make me feel understood. a bed and clothes I feel safe in. people occupying permanent places in my heart as I move from one moment to the next.

Nic and I walked around the city today. two years to the day since I moved to Sydney and found a home at Stucco. time means little but it’s still a funnh thought to me that this city has been my halfway home for a while. not quite sure what to think of it. never sure how I’m meant to feel.

a lot of missing. wishing I could take away the pain and do more for those I love. breathing. I haven’t written in my journal since I moved back in April. a need to learn how to listen to myself.

holding it all in my heart. <<

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.

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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. <<