The unexpected gift

We all go about our daily business, heads down, steamrolling ahead.

Walking along a busy crowded city street at work rush hour of a morning, being jostled by bodies in a hurry to get to where they are going, eyes unseeing anything than their destination.

Sometimes we are buried so deep that we don't see the elderly lady struggling to cross at a crowded intersection. Or the young teen clumsily wheeling over-sized luggage up and down the steep set of stairs at Central Station.

But just one moment of beauty can cut through the apathy and set a spark in someone's eyes.

A busker, lone and sweet, sat at Central's opening arches played a simple strumming melody that stopped the woman in her tracks. She looked ahead at first, wondering why she had stopped, then down at her phone, ever present in her hand. Checking what had changed.

Her head turned, transfixed by the sound. Magic worked through her as she walked towards the musician, and stood for a few moments. Only a few moments, then turned on her heels back towards the arches, feeling sad she didn't have even a token coin in her purse to express her gratitude.

Fleeting moments, an unexpected gift. Joy. Insight. A window of opportunity to give thanks for things of beauty. A check that these moments of living in the present will never be given to us again.

She stopped again to examine something at her feet. Paused, then stooped to pick it up.

In her hand, the flash of mauve of an Australian five dollar bill.

She turned back towards the musician without hesitation and placed it in his guitar case. He looked up at her, their eyes met, and she breathed a word of gratitude: beautiful.

An unexpected gift for an unexpected gift.

Music feeds the soul

What would my 16 year old self think of my 40 year old self?

Not quite a letter to my 16 year old self, but a twist on that theme. I was wondering over the weekend what my 16 year old self would think of my 39-going-on-40 self if she met me now.

Setting the scene. I was a very academic, studious, conscientious 16 year old who was only just beginning to start flexing her need for independence. I recall asking to attend a party and being told "no, you are too young" and having that inevitable discussion which included such erudite rebuttal points such as "all the other girls my age go to parties" and ending with me making the ever-accurate observation on parental decisions "you're mean!" along with the astute prediction "you're ruining my life."

16-year-old Tash was also just discovering music outside my ever-present classical piano influences and the very hip "Hooked On Classics" and the yodelling songstress Mary Schneider, and was discovering that I was truly, madly, deeply in love with live music.

My tastes had not yet stretched as far as the edgier end of the musical spectrum, with my first live concert being "Bros!" but I was well on my way to the current version of the eclectic music lover you know and love now.

My 16 year old self was quite awkward and self-conscious about her appearance. While "boys" didn't yet hold her attention, she was also acutely aware that she wasn't necessarily a direct target of "boys" either. It was an easy-going relationship for the most part. With a healthy dose of "why would anyone bother?" which possibly made my parents' lives much easier than my more boy-conscious peers.

So what would my 16 year old self think of me now?

I think there would be a fair amount of awe at where I live. I had lived all my life in the suburbs and was a frequent flyer to the city cinema strip most weekends, back when a movie and snacks would only cost $10. I had no reservation watching movies on my own back then, and I would wander through the city like I owned it. I used to crave the city lifestyle, so to see my ultimate dream of living there in a pretty fabulous apartment would make my 16 year old Tash go "wow, I can't wait to grow up!"

My interests, hobbies and outings would also make for an impressive show. She would have been green with envy with the amount of music shows, theatre, festivals and other outings I make each year.

She would not have seen the career path at all, having been wedded to the idea of being a doctor "when I grow up"... however a work experience stint with a GP and an anaesthetist was starting to put doubts in my mind about this conviction. I was still constantly scribbling away in my journal, so the fact I am now an Editorial Director would not be so far out of her conception.

And the "Dear diary" factor of blogging would also generate a nod from her.

She would be very much concerned that she would one day be as large as I am now, she was already self conscious about her weight. I'd like to say that might spark her up to be much more self confident in her body, to hear that she is actually viewed as a bit of a minx in her older age, and that it's just not all that necessary to be a stick thin size 10 to be noticed or worthy of attention. Perhaps it might even make her more relaxed about the whole thing, and stave off the inevitable yo-yo dieting cycle that I started and never got off.

I think we would have different ideas about my appearance - while I know that I still look quite young, to all young people anyone older than 30 appears "old", so we may not see eye to eye on that one!

But these are all superficial things. What do I think my 16 year old self would think about me, my outlook, what wisdom I have to share with her? I hate to say that she would probably have taken it all with a grain of salt and gone ahead and "done it her (my) way" anyways. Atta girl ;)

Would she listen to the difficulties I have been through and taken heart, or would it have discouraged her to love with everything she had? I can't tell, so I probably wouldn't tell her any of that. But my hard won wisdom would be shared, especially the knowledge that mum and dad love her very much and that although she feels so very misunderstood and alone right now, that they will always be there for her, and that she is very lucky to have such a rock solid start in life.

But... most important of all.... she would shake her head in disbelief at the revelation that 39-soon-to-be-40 Tash is a fan of Project Runway..... fashion? Are you for real, old lady?

Pffffft...

Getting my bliss on

Bare Island, La Perouse

Half floating, half swimming so effortlessly with fins propelling my body both relaxed and taut through the slightly pulling tide of Congwong Bay.

Mask down, searching, seeing. Brightly coloured blue striped fish most common. A seahorse! A rocky outcrop featuring countless sea urchins, clinging to its rough edges.

Mind wondering.... "this is a completely self contained world... I shouldn't be here... I am the alien here..."

Hours whiled away, looking in amazement at this underworld landscape.

Snorkelling. Another "tick" on my bucket list. But oh, so much more.

The realisation that this paradise has always been accessible to me, just at the end of Anzac Parade, with a fantasy island setting, used for the making of Mission Impossible II, completing the setting that I am not quite "of" this world, somehow that I am trespassing undetected and at any moment I will be asked to leave.

The gear I had purchased so easily from eBay the weeks prior, giving me access to this place, felt strange. Not quite used to it all yet. But I will be getting very familiar with it.

So easy. And yet it took me so long.

Why?

I guess it's a combination of fear, distraction, apathy. I have always wanted to snorkel, not really understanding why.

After hours of face-down fascination and emerging from the salty water of Bare Island, La Perouse, my body was completely relaxed yet tingling from top to toe. It felt like I had spent hours in deep meditation. I was more blissed out and happy than any other time I can remember.

Will I be doing that again?

You bet your bottom.

Before the snorkel adventure kicked off

Happy Un-Valentines Day Part 2

In my first post on celebrating our first Un-Valentines Day, I shared the results of a hypothetical game called "What 3 television or film characters best describe me".

My picks for the boy:

1. Dory from Finding Nemo.
Because he is cute, enthusiastic, friendly to anyone he meets and forgets almost immediately whatever you have told him the moment before.

2. Taxi Driver -  The scene where he repeats "are you talkin to me", because he is unafraid of confrontation. He knows who he is, has strong opinions about what is wrong and right, and calls others out on their BS when he sees it.

3.  Peter Klaven from I Love You Man
Because he is definitely a "ladies man". He gets along easily with women, is in touch with how emotions work and is so good at empathising with others. He is generous and wise, funny to boot. And is just a tad dorky. And cute.

His picks for me:

1. Bolt - a character that thinks he is larger than life, with superhuman powers, even though he doesn't. I have an annoying habit of thinking I am taller than I really am, and he finds this greatly amusing as I am actually quite short. Nonetheless, I don't let my stature stop me from thinking I rule the world.

2. Marla Singer from Fight Club - because she is her own woman, fully and completely. She is eccentric and in his words "just doesn't care what other people think of her".

3. Sam (Natalie Portman's character) in Garden State - another character that's happy being unusual or quirky. Another strong female character who is completely open to life and its possibilities.

So there you have it!

Happy Un-Valentines Day

I don't "believe" in Valentines Day. I don't like the idea that because there wasn't enough of an excuse to spend money after Christmas and before Mothers Day there is a great big site of expectations weighing the calendar down.

It is a tyrant of a day for singles, another reminder that, if you are looking, love is most certainly off the agenda. It's quite a painful day to watch looming on the agenda, then come and go without so much as a whimper, let alone a bang.

It is a huge weight of expectations for couples, especially blokes, who are expected to on cue produce declarations of love and tokens of affection despite whatever is going on in the relationship.

So I was not at all fazed when my (still brand new, in his original packaging) boyfriend declared he was also uninterested in celebrating Valentines Day in the traditional manner.

Great. Thought I. I don't need to worry about grand gestures. No embarrassing flowers delivered to work amidst the hoots and catcalls of colleagues. No angst about "what if my present isn't as good as his and it looks like I haven't put enough thought into it".

How wrong was I.

We play a lot of hypotheticals. We love these mental games. The question posed a few nights ago was: pick 3 characters from TV or film that embody 3 character traits you see in me.

I picked 3 characters immediately that describes him perfectly. However, he found it harder to come up with characters for me, and so we went off to sleep, and I completely forgot about it the following day.

Until he came home late that evening with a bag under his arm, saying "I don't celebrate Valentines Day but during this month of love, I want to give you something"

He had trawled the aisles of JB Hi Fi looking for the right 3 characters to describe me for hours. He then bought the DVDs for me to watch. He also wanted to make them films I hadn't seen before. I was touched he put that much thought and effort into it. I was also touched by his observation that "there are no strong leading female roles anywhere, they are all supporting roles, and I didn't think that described you".

Bless his heart!

So, do you want to know what characters we picked for each other?

Happy Un-Valentines Day Part II

January - photo a day

Pompidou, Milsons Point. Who doesn't love a good flat white to start the day? I love this cafe's sense of style - black and yellow with a stylish French twist.

I was walking behind this funky family approaching Milsons Point station one weekday afternoon. It struck me as they walked in time to each other, that they represented a family that had just had a great time together, and were on their way home for dinner. They just looked content and happy.

Walking home from Central Station one weekday afternoon I heard this protest long before I saw them. There was a crowd on the other side of the street, watching them, including police. I didn't get the gist of what they were protesting as it was in another language but the signs said "The Free Egyptian Policy". I wonder what it was all about.

These were fake flowers in the hotel that my new boyfriend and I spent a very happy 4 days at the start of 2013 together. They remind me of gerberas, which are my favourite flowers. I love the bright colours, and I will always remember how happy we both were on that holiday.

The door to my apartment, which I have previously spent 5 years alone in, this was taken on the day I moved back from spending a couple of years with my mum and dad, brothers and sister in law. This time I knew I was going to have the companionship I always yearned for, as well as giving me the independence and freedom I always crave.

A new favourite order, the piccolo, at Gnome, Surry Hills. I love this cafe for the very clever interior design to be able to seat customers within the limited floor space they have. This photo captures none of this apart from the excellent coffee that they serve.

On the corner of Bourke and Campbell Sts, Surry Hills, this brightly painted building stands out like a.... well.... pink, black and purple coloured monstrosity. Something about the way the angles are painted, however, means the building gets away with not being an eyesore, rather a curiosity.

A moment captured in the minutes during a red light at the main road of Coogee, opposite the beach. The light suddenly came through the trees, and I snapped this in the second it happened.

Clovelly Beach in summer, during a rare moment of solitude, far from the madding crowds.

A little slice of Italy outside Brsuchetteria, Surry Hills.

The neon stairs leading up to Santa Barbara

A happy moment with the boy, just kicking back at the pad. My face says it all, really.

I found true joy in organising all those changes for my apartment that never happened when I first lived here - one of those tasks was washing the huge windows that supply the light for the place.

i really love the textures in this photo - the shiny tiles, warmth of the wood and the coolness of the stainless steel door handles. i also love the way the guy is leaning against the far wall at The Beresford, Surry Hills.

Sunrise over the duck pond, Centennial Park, Sydney. I am not a morning person, but adhering to another of my resolutions, to train every morning (once a week with a friend outdoors like this) has made me a much happier person.

I would love to know the story behind this tree of thongs in Coal Cliff, a little community about an hour south of Sydney. The thongs all have messages on them, and are attached to the tree and go right up into the branches.

Giving my tired feet a break after an early morning run.

Love locks on Sea Cliff Bridge.

Pretty self explanatory. I just like the way the words stand out in relief against the material of the box thing.

Shoes slung across three whole rows of power cables in Smith Street, Surry Hills. I don't think I have seen quite so many shoes in the one place.

Treating my tired feet to a pedicure after a week of moving, furniture shopping, and renovating.

Another photo of the duck pond in Centennial Park, Sydney.

A happy shot of a happy girl :)