Archive | November, 2008

Pink Jasmine

30 Nov

Grow pink jasmine in a room that always stays yours
Remember building dreams and talk of leaving.
And how to play hard way past dinner.
Remember about thoughts and graces
Remember to let down and admit overwhelm
I am going to try to ease up on rushing the tie down of who I am.
Let it stay loose and supple
Let myself change- reinvent, try it all differently
Be kind,
Be grace,
Be true.
Just simply, be you.

Worth writing for.

27 Nov
A love for typography just isnt enough, it's about them words.

A love for typography just isn't enough.

So it may have just hit me that I’m a writer. -Of some sort.
It seems almost silly that I’ve been blogging for several months now, and I’ve only just realised through casual conversations (in and out of the blogosphere) that I’m a writer. It’s not an entirely new discovery though.

Seth Godin has a recent post up on his blog talking about ‘The Death of Personal Blogs’. With writing and blogging, it’s become a conversation on the blogosphere – more than just any old ‘cat’ blog – but looking deeper into the spread and share of ideas and to “chronicle” such thinking.

I’ve come to realise in the past few months that writing has an undefined place in my soul. It has become a vice, an escape from the usual 9-5 and it allows me to connect.
And I adore words. I love the idea in linguistics that the more words we know, the more efficiently and effectively we are able to communicate. I love finding the perfect word or set of a words that most accurately conveys what I’m trying to say. And I even like that I can’t always find them… the indescribable is a good place to be, in my book anyway.

And I’m writing this story.

Its almost like finding a way to tell a story and bring people to your notion of understanding and grasp. So when it boils down to it – you can keep pushing to new levels of thought, conversation and writing.

But today, I realised that I truly do love to write. Not just any blogger or a lover of words or apprentice, even. What’s weird is that I didn’t even know it until 2004, when I accidentally stumbled into the creative writing side of my brain with a journal project at uni, never to return.
But that’s a different story.

Then, this year, I threw caution to the wind and admitted the truth to the world – through the notorious means of a blog, however random or varied the content. And now – well, now that beast has been released, it’s pretty much something I need to do.

The past few days have been chaotic – work is chaotic and I have deadlines and proposals and briefs crammed into every space and corner of my waking hours. This evening is my first free evening since last weekend. But when I asked myself do you want to sleep or to write? The answer reverberated throughout my head: We want to write.

So I didn’t stay back to do overtime. Not this time. Because when I neglect fulltime work, I don’t feel half as unbalanced as when I neglect my blog writing. Which is strange. It really has grown on me.

I’d like to be a great many things in my life, and I often try to be and do too many at once. My heart tells me that I should credit the girl inside who writes if I want too – I don’t have to be the girl who always eats sleeps and breathes design, not all the time. That’s pretty amazing to me. I thought if I was one, it would almost be too hard to be good any anything else. But it’s not. It’s been done before.

I know that the girl who designs is inside of me, but right now, it’s time for the girl who blogs to shine through. Not everything has to be done at once, and not everything has to be done to the nth degree.

What a concept.

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The Twitter train

20 Nov

Discovered by my no doubtly iniquitous means of surfing teh interwebs and researching blogging as a a creative outlet project, I stumbled across Twitter. I never really paid any attention to it, thought it was much a-do about only a little, but in some logical space, this so called ‘Twitter’ just seemed to keep popping up everywhere. It first started falling into my routine with my iPod touch, installing a nifty application called ‘Twinkle’.
Now, I’m not app heavy, use and keep what I need and somehow this one application just stuck around for a while.
And Twitter, incase you’ve been hiding under a rock in the general world of web 2.0, it is micro blogging that’s well… “so hot right now”…in the colloquial Gen Y-er terms.

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But regardless of popularity, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was witnessing some kind of Star Trek style culture, whereby people are infact known by their clever twitter personnas and leave behind -well, everything else.

So, the point you ask?
There is something really interesting when it comes to understanding the mindset that drives some people to pursue the untested, emerging social networking platforms, when to most, the reason for doing so might be unclear and a waste of time, when you have things that already work for you.
First you need to understand the mindset of technology adapters, or bleeding edgers or tweeps and whathaveyou.
It starts with myspace, facebook and moves onto blogging, photo blogging, RSS feeds and technorati to name a few. Tied somewhere into that, you’ll find an unbridled passion for everything social, down to the search for something a little more left of center than the standard information generation.

So I had heard something was going on and it turns out, hey- it had been for quite sometime already. A whole lot of something. Better late to the party than never I say.
Since connecting to this highly addictive world of Twitter, I’ve discovered some interesting things.
Unlike the relatively static experiences on LinkedIn, facebook* or WordPress, twitter is alive and buzzing with real time conversations. It’s amazing what you can say in 140 characters or less (micro blogging needs a defining characteristic, and Twitter’s creators somehow settled on 140 characters as a limit) you’ll get everything from “I need a coffee” to “anyone seen Google’s latest acquisition with video chat?”

The second thing I discovered was that people are paying close attention to everything you say. In fact, when you ‘follow’ someone on twitter, another description could almost be stalking in the real world. But not on Twitter. The third twitter point I must share, was the process of explaining to my friends and others, exactly what twitter was and why it mattered. All they could muster was ‘that sounds pointless!’
Yeowch. The truth can hurt.

It might sound a little ethereal, but eventually you get plugged into the wavelength of Like-minded people. The revelation is that Twitter has demonstrated that social networking can be-wait for it- social.
Amazing I know.
Looking for advice on a broken mac, or even asking questions on a new business challenge, just as your twitter followers, the suggestions can come flooding in within minutes.
The real shocking thing about business is that it’s social, and that’s where it ties in. Relationships matter- relationships with customers, clients or faceless corporate entities. Regardless how positive or negative those experiences can be.

So for now, I’ll keep using it, finding ‘tweeps’, networking and socially relating in something a little new and untouched by the grubby hands of mainstream. I don’t consider myself a bleeding edger, but I’ll roll with it for now. It’s a bit like a self assured credibility you adopt because you used to watch that artist or band performing in lounges and pubs before they were mainstream.

Anyway, time for my next update.

One girl’s thoughts

8 Nov

I want to leave traces of truth.
Traces of what it actually feels like.
Of What can be told today.

I apologize so often for myself. I catch myself so carefully, constructing my actions.
Keep the love steady, the acceptance strong. The understanding in place.

I want to give it up, start something new, fall out of line. Allow it to happen
by chance, by dream, by those thoughts youve never seen, by my own ideas unforseen.

We came from the past…

8 Nov

Tonight I was surrounded by friends that I love. We shared lyrics, heard thoughts and laughed
around candles and colours of maybe…around what ifs and wishes.
I soaked in the warm songs of a tribe.

I know happiness although its not perfect rightness, just a softening for understanding for the way life is going.

This has all happened before us, we came from the past from songs and fire and sideways glances.
We create it all over again,
untied and loose
we travel together
Making it to the next landing point, hands in fists, standing tall;
eyes wide open.

Thoughts in your atmosphere

6 Nov

I’ve always been fascinated with graffiti, whether scrawled on hidden walls or carved into park benches. Anonymous conversations and arguments held in public spaces for the world to see. These raw and spontaneous scribblings have become a forum of all sorts, a collection of opinions about drugs, politics, sex, war, racism and of course a healthy dose of drunken poetry.

We are living in what some have called the golden age of self-expression. The explosion of user-created content on blogs and social networking sites has moved even Time magazine to name “You” their 2006 person of the year. Whatever that really means.

But while we may be spending a lot more time in virtual worlds, we have not lost the urge to make our physical world more meaningful. By leaving art and ideas in public places, you can affect someone’s day—change their mood or their mind—and maybe even change the world’s thoughts in the process.

Now there’s an idea.

Self expression as an artistic means, is full of exceptional processes, open thoughts and truths in the real world, not just any organized school art project or agreed upon political discussion. There’s no hiding or fearful musing about, only the impetuous truth and feelings of …whatever it is you want to talk about really.

Everyday I walk through dark yet contrastingly colourful city alleys, each gritty wall holds a narrative, a blank canvas for testimony.

What hides beneath the heart of life?

What hides beneath the heart of life?

In particular, I have noticed the heart-box.
Fixed to the wall alongside remains of old paint stains, political stickers and graffiti marks. The small and antique like box is wooden and weathered. Painted with a red heart, supporting a small skeleton keyhole. The final touch is tiny metal plate fitted to the bottom right corner that reads something along the line of ‘everything for love’.

Amid the usual clutter of a besmirched alley, is a humble act of love, beauty and art.
The heart-box is continually blanketed with black paint, graffiti and meaningless tags, but come Monday again, it’s mysteriously re-polished, re-painted and as good as new. Touching.

henry_david_thoreau

Henry David Thoreau, himself.

Which finally draws me to a perceptive point that Henry David Thoreau made:
“It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or carve a statue, and so make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look.  To affect the quality of the day – that is the highest of arts.”
– Henry David Thoreau

***Keep an eye out… Will post an image of the heart-box soon***

Nigerian Princess, eat your heart out

1 Nov

Opening my inbox bright and early on a Monday morning I was graced with the usual presence of blog subscriptions, a few short and wonderful emails from friends overseas, the occasional spam or newsletter… But to my surprise, I had also recieved an email from a mysterious Colonel Benjamin F Davies, who had contacted me from his gmail account, offering me a cut of $20 million in gold and cash he says he found in a cave in Iraq. Of course.

Before your laughter subsides, it reads a little something like this…

From 1st Brigade -col Benjamin F Davies:

This is to write to your notice that I found out gold and revenue, amount to $20 million in a tunnel in Iraq, which I made an open declaration of the gold, but I hid the revenue, as I successfully secured the revenue with a finance company. I am hereby contacting you in assistance to bring out this revenue from the finance company, as I will present you as the original owner of the revenue this will enable the revenue to be released to you by the company to avoid the notice that I am directly involved. Which means I will part with you 20% for you and 10% for any expenses the success of the transaction may incur, while 70% for me.

Thank you for your cooperation

Signed,
Col. Benjamin F Davies

Well, that just blew me away, naturally. How generous. Just a few minor question before I hand over all my bank details… A few problems forseen in the colonels delightful offer. You know, aside from the bleeding fact you’d have to be an idiot to reply to one of these emails. But couldn’t resist the morning laugh in a harmless look.

Let’s muse along here for the colonels sake:
1. Can he just take the money? Doesn’t it belong to the Iraqi people?

2. If Col. Davies is an American citizen, why does he need me, in Australia to help? Can’t he work with a resource on base?

3. So obviously this colonel character found me by no doubt heinous mean of surfing the interwebs, but shouldn’t he be focusing on ending the fighting in Iraq than (a) stealing gold from the caves and (b) reading my blog or floating about on twitter?

And lastly,
4. Won’t I have to pay tax in this sum? I don’t want it to screw up my tax bracket now.

Hmmm… the odds just aren’t panning put too nicely. I’m thinking I might just have to decline. But wish you all the luck somewhere else… like Cluedo, Colonel.