Rebellion

biker by the dead lake alone

I look up in my wandering and see a man on his bike.

He notices me and emits  a cheerful “Good Morning”. I say the same back and feel a social unspoken rule has been broken. Nobody ever speaks to another in the desert. We are all protected by a sense of personal space.

bikers and dead lake desert black and white

All it takes is somebody who doesn’t conform and we are all in danger.

I wonder if I could become a non-conformist?

Rare

Nature vs Art of Man

outbacksunset1

On a recent road trip, I went to view some desert sculptures in Australia’s New South Whales Outback.

The sun was almost set, and the visiting hours of the site were nearing their end. It was especially cold that afternoon, I remember putting on my jacked and hobo gloves before getting out of the car.

brokenhill1

The sculptures were great, but I found myself more captivated by the natural wilderness surrounding them

The endless sense of space, the shrub like plants and the bright unworldly color of the grass against the red rocks.

While groups of tourists gathered around the sculptures,discussing them, photographing them from many different angles, posing with them… I found myself taking pictures of the scruffy trees reflecting the last rays of the day’s sunlight.

Maybe I’m just not cultured’ enough…

But most times, natural beauty wins for me.


Daily Prompt:
Natural

Of Numbers and Fear

planner3

“Do I feel ready? Hell no… I expect I will have to give a speech in front of everybody”

This time – one year ago – I was preparing for my final day at the office. I was worried about giving a speech.

I had decided to throw everything away, go back to university to finish the study I had started and given up on five years prior.

“Enthusiasm eludes me, how will I handle university?

It seems like a lifetime ago, but it has only been one year. The speech went alright by the way… I had headphones in and the entire office had collected behind my desk without me noticing… After that I just started worrying about how I would handle University…

University  was fine too. I managed to do much better than I ever thought I could.

I suppose all the worrying is pointless in the end… with all the days that have passed it certainly seems that way.

DailyPost: Weekly Photography Challenge:
Numbers

Stuck In a Bad Phase? Please do this…

Hilltop countryside wanderings

When each day seems to be monotonous repetition of the last…

It can make you pretty miserable, feeling as though nothing is ever going to change for the better, it can be hard to shift your outlook  by staying in the situation.

Sometimes the only way to break into a new phase is to literally get out of the place you spend all your time in.

Last weekend I got in the car and drove away from the town I live in.

It was only a temporary get away, but the fresh country air and (seemingly) never ending desert roads made short work of my clouded and blocked mental state.

I would recommend a mini adventurous escape to anybody feeling stuck in a rut or a bad mental phase. Even if all you can manage is a day trip to somewhere new, or even a place you haven’t been in a long time.

Hilltop countryside wanderings2

Daily Promt: Escape the Phase.

If We Were Having Coffee…

coffee outside black and white

I’d ask you if you have ever had to stay strong when you felt the complete opposite.

I imagine most of you would say yes. I would then ask you to elaborate…Perhaps we could share some funny stories. Like the time I was so upset with a situation, that I went and brushed my teeth… my response to the stress and sadness was so strange that it I ended up laughing at myself.

I guess little things like that can be a relief to the pressure during hard times?

If you have ever experienced relief from a negative feeling or situation in a bizarre unrelated way, please feel free to share! 🙂

#weekendcoffeeshare

The Last Time I Cried

with cross

I was alone.

Things had been tense at the house for a while… and so I was alone to avoid the “tense-ness”, so to speak. I was not alone because I wanted to be.

The rain was pouring down outdoors, making contact in comforting sounds to the exterior of the building.

I sat staring at my computer screen in hopes of something. I didn’t know what. Eventually, through a few aimless clicks, I landed up reading a very short story, about a man who fell in love with the idea of a stranger.

I remembered falling in love with the idea of a stranger once.

He used to come to the beach and write in his car every morning – just like me. One  day he didn’t come to the beach… and I never saw him again.

I noticed some tears slide their way down my cheeks.

I could hear the loud invasive cacophony of the television set in the living-room where my partner watched other imaginary lives being lived.


Free Writing – Do it!

Becoming Bogan

bogan with smoke black and white

Labels get thrown around fairly free and easy in this life.

I’m sure you have categorized or been categorized by others on many occasions during your time on earth.

The first time I felt my category change in an emotionally confronting way, was when I quit my career to move to a new city and start a business with my friend.

I had to take up a cleaning job to pay the bills. Going from corporate sophisticated/ laptop toting garb to dressing like a teenager and scrubbing walls was by no means emotionally easy… especially the way that people looked at and treated me so entirely differently to what I was used to. I eventually got back to wearing court shoes and and carrying laptop cases from office to office, but little did I know…

bogan smoking

I was only to repeat the mortifying category shift experience again.

Only this time in a new country, where nobody really knew who I was or what I’d done in the past… and only had my current circumstances to judge me by.

Imagine your own flat mate hiding the wine glasses from you!

(yes this actually happened) as she assumed my occasional glass of an evening was a 24 hour a day habit due to my (at the time) unemployed status.

bogan with alcohol

And this is even before moving to a street that even the real estate agent seemed afraid of.

A lovely street where dogs run loose, the sound of neighborhood swearing carries throughout the suburb and tales of resident’s unsavory pastimes seem only the norm.

stolen

The vibe was so foreign to me at first, and altogether terrifying to be honest.

But as time goes on, I have made peace (in part) to the situation and hence the hoodie and ripped jeans (below photo – when in Rome, right?). Let it be acknowledged though, that the wine bottle is all for show, despite what my ex-flatmate might try to insinuate. God knows I wish I could say the same for the cigarette…

becomingbogan2

Diverse