two minutes walk

November 19, 2014

Welcome to Melville: Early Release Facility for Serious Offenders, aka our new home after our discharge from what we fondly referred to as Arkham Asylum… the share house in Brunswick East.

Let me show you around…

The entry way

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This is my room…

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Then down the hall…

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Past Caroline’s troll cave

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The “Lounge Room” with outdoor area

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Laundry

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Bathroom

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To kitchen and dining…

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And finally, the back yard

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We love it!  Come visit sometime… we might even have a sofa to sleep on by then.

let me give you a rundown of my fun life (updated)

October 29, 2014

When the lease at our old house ran out in July, my housemate Caroline and I made the choice to roomsit for a workmate of mine who was going overseas for around three months.

Cue living in a large and very nice house with five other people (we are both introverts… major gross!), sharing a room (and eventually me getting an extroverted sometimes bed-warmer slash zen-killer—three in one bedroom, yeah, brilliant idea).

This month we started looking for new places to live, because Michelle’s coming back this weekend.  We applied for a few.  One of them, last week, we got very positive word of mouth from the agent suggesting we were looking in very good shape to be offered the house.  Cue excitement.  And then we didn’t hear back from them all week.  They eventually called to reiterate that we were their preferred applicants and the delay was with the landlord not getting back to them.

This week, being our final week in this house saw desperation kicking in.  By this stage it seemed like this house was our only hope besides utter destitution and becoming homeless tram-folk.

Also, we have to be out on Saturday and I leave to visit my family back home in New Zealand on Sunday.  Talk about pressure.

I called the agent on Monday afternoon and it turns out despite their earlier reassurances the landlord prefers another applicant and has also decided he wants to increase the rent.

Did I fail to mention we are desperate?

Then yesterday I looked at another house, literally a two minute walk from my work.  There were no other people at the inspection, which is strange because it’s a very in-demand neighbourhood.  I explained our situation to the agent and gave him all the necessary application documentation on the spot.  He said he’d do his best to expedite the process.

This morning he had called our references before 10 am.

Of course I’m not sleeping properly now because stress, so even though it’s my day off and usually I’d be staying in bed forever, I got up this morning and took myself out for breakfast.

On my way home I missed a call from the first property agent who left a voicemail insinuating that they want to offer us the first property.  On Monday she told me she’d call yesterday.

What.  The.  Actual.  Bleeeeeeeep.

I am 1000% over this drama.

Not interested.

WHY LIFE?!  WHY EVERYTHING?!  WHAT DO?!

UPDATE: We have just been offered the second house and have accepted.  We can move in from this Friday.  Such relief!

the Book, the Word, this Life

October 27, 2014

I’m just here, on this journey, exploring what it means to be in this world and experience the Divine and live in harmony with Him and with everything.  The thing about the Bible is that it isn’t a record of perfection.  It isn’t a record of absolute truth.  It’s a record of people on a journey, experiencing the Divine, wrestling with what it means to be part of that greater plan.  The reason it is relevant now even though it was written by maybe 40 different men over a period of hundreds of years isn’t because they had everything figured out.  It’s in the fact that we can see where they’ve been and where this journey is taking us as a human race.  It’s about forward momentum.  It’s about mercy and grace and love.  It’s about being better.  It’s about making things better.

the trouble

October 24, 2014

I’ve spent a significant part of my teenage and adult life wishing I was different from what I am.  Hoping that one day things would magically change and how I feel would change and I could just be normal, like it seems to be so easy for other people so why does life have to be so hard for me, and why do I have to be the one that can never be happy?  (Don’t worry, I’m not deluded enough to believe that things are easier for other people, but sometimes it feels that way).

Then someone broke through the white noise and raised some questions.

What if you never change?

What if what you think should be different is just how you are?

Will you live on wishing and hoping your whole life?

So I decided that maybe I should accept how I am.  Because I don’t see any signs of things changing.

The problem here is that I seem to have exchanged one set of wishful thinking for another.  And maybe my new wishful thinking is more likely to lead to a sense of fulfilment.  But what if it doesn’t?  Because there are always fundamentals that don’t change.

And what if the person who asked the questions isn’t interested in the answers?

What if they’re only interested in walking in, dropping the bomb, watching the fallout then leaving?

Would you always/maybe sometimes/make it easy?/take your time

What does it mean to live?  What does it mean to love?  What does it mean to be whole?  What does it mean to not be broken?

I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I am trying.  I am trying.  Can’t you understand that?  I am trying.

Lyrics from Two Weeks by Grizzly Bear

October 6, 2014

Undone // Lydia Cole

Every time.  Every time.  Every time.

What is the Bible? [part 71]

October 3, 2014

“The Bible is like Van Gogh’s painting of sunflowers, rather than a Wikipedia entry about sunflowers. It is not a science book. It will not tell you what to believe in order to make God happy. It is more likely to show you what faith does than define what it is. The Bible is a work of art, a collection of stories, histories, poems, flawed characters and beautiful songs. Art is meant to work on us and to wake us up to our own lives. The Bible works on our hidden depths, hopes, and dreams, pushes our buttons and exposes our illusions.”

Kent Dobson
From here

Article. by Courtney Holm: a lookbook

September 26, 2014

The above super tasty video is called POP and was created for/by my brilliant and talented (and just plain lovely) friend Courtney for her street/sports luxe clothing label Article. by Courtney Holm as a part of this year’s Melbourne Spring Fashion Week.

It’s been my privilege to be able to help Courtney out with some of the production (ie. fabric cutting) side of her work over the last couple of months on my days off, and it’s gratifying to see her work get out into the public domain.

If only I had more spare money I’d be spending up large.

2979

September 24, 2014

I think everything in life is art. What you do. How you dress. The way you love someone, and how you talk. Your smile and your personality. What you believe in, and all your dreams. The way you drink your tea. How you decorate your home. Or party. Your grocery list. The food you make. How your writing looks. And the way you feel. Life is art.

−Helena Bonham Carter

halflight

September 24, 2014

He flopped down across the bottom of the bed, positioning his head as close to the open window as possible he tucked a pillow under his chin and closed his eyes in the dim half-light.  The sound of the falling rain filled the night.  Occasionally a car would pass, the tires shusshing through the water pooled on the surface of the road.  He thought about the kind of people who didn’t like the rain.  He would never be able to understand them.  The sound of falling raindrops was one of his greatest sensory pleasures.  He opened his eyes, looking past the elaborate wrought iron-work of the balcony railing, past the tree lit up by the streetlamp, past the powerlines, shining, dripping, and up at the grey mass of the sky, clouds illuminated from below by the lights of the city.  He thought about how his life, his heart had been broken open, it’s dark secrets pooling out like the water gathered on the inky black asphalt down below.  He had been a mess of swirling emotional turmoil for the past month, it only just beginning to settle again; his eating and sleeping patterns returning to normal.  How could he ever share what he had learned, the discoveries he’d made about himself, about love and faith, fear, grace and mercy.  About selflessness and self-preservation.  Everything at once.  It was never just one thing.  All or nothing at all.

just… breathe

September 22, 2014

It was morning when he went to work.  Early, but not too early.  He sat in the sun chatting and eating ice cream for half an hour in the mid afternoon.  He left work in the evening, waited for the tram.  He climbed aboard when it came along, stood amongst the other commuters with his backpack slung from one shoulder across his front.  A breeze blew through the window, playing through his hair, brushing across his face.  He closed his eyes.  It was evening and he was on the way home and the day was about to end.  He climbed down from the tram, crossed the main road and wandered along the side street toward the house.  It was dark, and the air was warm.  He could smell what people were cooking for dinner and the intoxicating fragrance of jasmine.  He felt contented.


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