Gosh, time has truly flown.  I've succumbed to my 'perfectionist' curse where I find I have a lot to say but I always try to phrase it perfectly before writing/typing it out, which then usually means that I end up never doing so as the moment and topic passes. Richard Pratt's words ring true -- "too much analysis leads to paralysis".

That I am not - paralysed that is - rather, I am poised, panther like with paws ready to pounce.  Nice image, huh,  me down on all fours.  The year has surprised me -- it's a numbers game, the more you put out, the more you get back, give and you shall receive, be aggressive and go get what you want, trust yourself just be yourself, time heals all, look up and see the blazing-high-UV-sunshine and smell the vegemite toast that gets you through the day, absence makes the heart grow fonder, distance makes the heart want to burst, looking beyond only to realise I had everything in front of me, political correctness, ego stroking, baby boomers refusing to move on or get up-skilled, personal luxury like never before, maturity does not necessarily equal worldly, crazy coincidences and degree of separation that make you laugh/cry/cringe, love the complicated beast that it is, control is an overrated verb, flight is a beautiful sensation, peace that I found in amongst the craze -- with its abundance and variety.

I am home. For the longest in a long time and things have shifted, quite literally. I found all sorts of soft toys scattered all over my room.  It's like my mum felt the room was too sparse, after moving into the new house for 2 seconds I was gone, so she put a bunny on the desk, a few bears on the shelf, a spatterring of voodoo dolls on the vanity and a massive pooh bear on the bed and probably though it would 'humanise' things a little.  omg. i havent actually seen these toys since 1997.

I have a list of people women to see and places to go.  Helen, Jocelin, Phuong, Cynthia, Tori, Teresa, Maria.  The NGV, Heide, Toff in Town, Breadwell, Eureka Tower, Miss Marples, Ranges.  I have gone into re-arranging mode, so there is lots of IKEA furnishings to be purchased, clothes to be sorted and spices to be straightened. There is so much random stuff everywhere.  It truly does reflect the state of mine of the people living in this house.  This includes the backyard, where dog poo is littered like autumn leaves.

I already know I will cry when I leave.  I have a 6 month contract ready to go and interviews scheduled to roll.  But it seems so...empty...withough the one that makes everything comfortable.  The one that knows I go through a headscrew almost daily and rant and rave like a freaking madwoman.  That I have to be what I say and think what I do and I hope that I know in pursuit of the elusive 'made it' or 'mortgaged it'.  

What do you do when your work is in one place and your heart is in another?  You can't go back because you've kind of moved on, and not that moving back is that wrong, it's just not right for now, but the faces that you see when you come back makes you ache and laugh and swoon.  It's still a not quite the perfect place where you've gone too, but its like bubble wrap for opportunities, step in any direction and you'll pop. 

I always thought I could move easily.  But it seems like the umbilical cord is replaced by one you can't cut.  I can't quite numb the trembles of changes and nerves of unknown, no matter how much ginger-honey-chai-tea I drink.  I've begun to replace it with anything vintage 2000 and that's red. That works better but wears off, and my tomato face is not a good look.

Deep breath.  Straighten your back, or your pilates will be a waste.  Make that phone call, or your talent will be lost.  Pack that bag, or you'll forget your notes.  Kiss that parent, or you'll regret it in a month.  Go to the holiday house, or you'll be making excuses forever.  

Wear it, or waste it. 

Write it, don't fight it. 

Shake it off, or you'll never get it off. 


Shake it off.