surviving the 21st century

writing. isnt it another word for reflecting?

sharing one’s reflections with others. when we are already surrounded by voices shouting through megaphones to be heard. Is it still worth whispering?

i often struggle to see the point of it all. like many, i miss the old blogging days, when it was a people’s tool for sharing their everyday lives, especially their best tips and recipes about baking, gardening and knitting.

I miss these times before big corporations broke the internet and big media corporations obliterated blogging turning it into another marketing tool to steal people’s data to target them with ads.

well does it even matter? I mean here we are now, looking for ways to share and connect and ponder on it all, without feeding the beast.

so few years later, and I find myself here, logging in on wordpress, remembering my old blogging friends. a lot of them are still on here, some even still post a few times a week! through the sand storms, tsunamis and earthquakes that may have hit them in the last few years, they still come back here to share their journey. they created this tiny space on here years ago, where they feel they can whisper away, or scream in a pillow.

i would write updates but i don’t even know where to start.

i should probably keep it simple and focus on the now. who cares where you have been as long as you know where you are going.

that’s the thing, who knows these days where this is all going.

we are living one day at a time, catching what life throws our way and seeing how we can make lemonade with it.

how to survive the 21st century, while the people in charge keep re-arranging the deck chairs on the titanic?

i have spent the last few years thinking about how i was going to do just that.

surviving the 21st century, eating popcorn in my favourite deckchair, watching the ship sinks.

The drizzle

The rain is hitting the pavement.

As I look out of the window I can see the ripples in the puddles.

Another day.

The droplets on the back rest of the bench grow fatter. The rain has drained all the colours from the sky. No colour, no smell, no taste. Just the drizzle, the white sky and the birds, shrieking at each other over bread crumbs.

Eternity

There’s no knowing

What will spring

From the wild abyss.

The Girl Who Grew Wings ~ Chapter I

I.

Once upon a time there was a girl who would only feel at peace with the world when she was on the highest roof top of her town.

From there she would sit and watch the hustle below her – people going in and out of shops, old ladies going for yet another cup of coffee with their friend, young people going for yet another takeaway together, toddlers in push chairs, mums looking lonely, builders fixing buildings and… birds.

Calm in the midst of chaos

Root yourself into the ground;

Like a tree.

Years after years after years

Roots grow deep.

A few things…

What do you say to the country side,

when you come back after all these years?

The river in a hurry runs wild.

Bank swallows scheme and skim

over rising waters.

Bellies full of insects,

too soon they will gather.

Their departure grows near,

I miss them already.

Interview with my dog Tara

Tara is 14 years old.

She has been with us since Easter 2007. She has been through all the highs and lows of our family for the last 13 years. She was here when our son was born. She was here when our dog Jasmine was preparing to die. She has been a loyal and kind companion all these years.

I asked her if she would like to share her views on life with us.

Here is our conversation. I thought you may enjoy reading her…

Family portrait

this is a

family portrait

we are treading that

path altogether.

Fire in the sky

as the sun disappeared

behind the horizon

the clouds make way, scattered

set the sky ablaze, sun.

• 

Lama apricots

This is...
a flashback,
slice of a previous life.
from a time way back
when I was around 10
sharing apricots
with dear lama Purtse.