Jumbled fascination

The grapes and M.

Pool sessionz

My light blue kurta is flitting to the movement of the fan above us, the little blue flowers dancing in broken rhythm  with the familiar melody of Stevie's 'isn't she lovely' swirling around the room. I'm zoning out on a Saturday morning to the smell of roasted coffee beans as dad puts on his morning brew and my brother sits perfectly content in his usual indention in the bed with his laptop and headphones to accompany him. I'm still floating in the post-yoga high when seconds seem to tick slightly slower and your thoughts weave in and out of each other instead of coming at you all at once. My eating routine's taken a change of course after being given a pre-op diet by the doctor. I already choose to whine about the restrictions in my usual diet - 'no wheat' being the most straining factor. But now it's no dairy, caffeine, green veg, cheese, wheat, nuts or alcohol. Doesn't that cover pretty much every food group excluding meat? I guess my decision on weather to go veg. or not has been made. But it's quite interesting having to have such self-discipline regarding what you eat (not that I stick to it very often). But when you do, you learn to be creative and combine different flavours to give yourself the same satisfaction that something you'd normally eat would give you. This morning welcomed me with porridge oats, milk and fresh berries, with lemon & honey tea - there are alternatives!
I'm realizing as I learn more and more about nutrition and food that there are 10000+ methods to follow diet-wise, whether you choose to go with what's best for your blood type (read my previous post called 'blood red munch' if you're interested), your personal preference (vegan/ vegetarianism etc), a Buddhist diet (where they tend to avoid stimulating/ heating foods like ginger, garlic, meat etc. because it keeps the mind too active during meditation) or your ayurvedic constitution.. I know this is a lot of information in one go but bear with me.

Double J

Recently I've become particularly interested in the last method I mentioned, and am learning about it slowly. Basically in ayurveda they split people into various 'types' or 'dosha's', this is based on all of your physical, emotional and psychological workings and once you've found out what combination of dosha's you are, you can adjust your diet or lifestyle based on what's 'best suited' to you. E.g. some people don't work well with a rabbit diet (salads and light foods) whereas some people do. You'll find that with all of these different methods, much of the dietary/ lifestyle advice overlaps so you can really refine what's best for you - if you're interested that is ;). (http://doshaquiz.chopra.com/) - if you want to find out what you are, check it out and see if it makes sense.

Besides dietary concerns, due to my temperamental tummy bug I stayed in bed last night, snuggled up under the covers after having been diversely remedied from both sides of the family. My mum lay with me and vigorously rubbed the never-failing remedy of Chinese oil on my tummy until it generated enough heat to kill the pain, and my dad brought over a cup of  dandelion and wild honey tea. I felt satiated with all the heat and my petals wilted down into bed with a big hoodie and baggy trackies; my eyes closing as credits from 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' scrolled down the screen. As my heartbeat slowed and I drifted into a dream-world, the motif of the movie (in response to the ever thought provoking question, and a common topic of girly conversation 'why do good people always go for the wrong people') danced around my head in italic font, 'we accept the love we think we deserve' - a deep message to conceptualize, and reflecting on it stings..
I'd read 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower'  by Stephen Chybosky a few years ago when a best friend and I did our 'favourite book swap' in an attempt to get back into reading (I gave her '13¹⁄₂ lives of captain bluebear' by Walter Moers - amazing book). It worked - I raced through the book, connecting to the characters so easily. The movie lived up to more than I thought it would, the scenes of the protagonists lunacy being scarily relatable - they reminded me of those rare intoxicated/ delirious moments that happen when you feel like you're going crazy and you realize it's all in your own head.. or maybe that's just me :p. It was interesting seeing what brought on the lunacy though, the driving emotion being 'guilt' that is said again and again to be the emotion with the lowest vibrational frequency. Meaning harbouring guilt, causes pain, disease, injury, lunacy even.. So the mountain of thoughts, questions and worries continuously spun around my head, but darkness eventually prevailed.

We're baaack

The last few days in KL have seemed to blur together as I'm sure everyone's has. It's always like that when you're in the hustle and bustle of seeing friends and engrossing yourself in your old environment, parties, pool days, lunches, rekindling old flames, sessions here and there - it's all so fun, but it doesn't stop. Seeing how friendships have changed, who's adapted to uni life and who's still hanging on to our glorious past. You stop questioning and wondering how we're all going to stay intouch and what our future holds because seeing each other just makes you appreciate when it does happen. The Lumineers are strumming along to 'Flowers in your hair' (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3sb6LduFwRM) a song that was sent to me by a friend the other day. I'm wondering where I put my phone 10 minutes ago, this memory-loss thing is really starting to get to me, I almost feel like I should write a book on 'Alzheimers for Teenagers', but noticing the same trend amongst the majority of my friends makes me feel slightly better.

Oh Bush

Indulge me in a bit of reflection on the bigger picture. A few weeks ago I was told that our DNA is 94% identical to a fruit flies - yet that 4% still deems humans to be the top of the food chain? I was talking to my uncle D. about why this was and gained some rather interesting insight. I learnt about his business that he started himself a long time ago, with a typewriter in a dingy room. He expanded and worked his way up to own one of the most successful PR businesses in the UK, that he then happily sold on at it's peak. At the point of selling his business he was offered the most life changing job, to be the top CEO of some huge marketing company ladidadida, and after weighing the pro's and con's, he didn't choose the luxury, the parties and the girls but instead to drop his ego and focus on what he wanted, having a family and a lifestyle - which I commend him for.We got down to the thrawl of things and why you'd choose one decision over another and concluded that greed is what drives humans. A very real example of this can be seen in politics.. in a speech made my George Bush (who I don't particularly respect, but this point had a level of sanity to it) regarding the kyoto protocol (the climate change deal that he did not comply with). He believes the way forward is investing in technology as opposed to forest conservation etc. A seemingly ignorant opinion at first but his reasoning is that because technology has the power to do everything for us, and humans create technology because it essentially makes our lives easier. Hence technology benefits us and should be invested in because greed is what drives technology production unlike forest conservation. They've already proved that technology can take over from natural methods. Just look at the answer to the extinction of bees, they've now created 'robot bees' to pollinate flowers in a faster and more precise manner than real bees - is it the natural way of doing things? No. But that's another debate. So while Bush seems like a dick for not wanting to support the environment, his cynical view is quite realistic, and ruthless. Amongst all of the clutter that I've just mentioned, even if we are driven my selfish motives, sometimes in the hardest decision it takes a drop of the ego to make the choice to consciously stand at the top of the chain.. otherwise we may as well lose the 4% and join the fruit flies.

Sci-guy

Another blurry day

I'm still floating a little from all the thinking and the meditation, and I catch a passage from Guru Singh's lecture on how to ground yourself, what a coincidence! I hear him say in his laid back Cali accent "Buddha once said 'walk the middle path', I call that boredom, and that's what grounds you. 'Knowing' is boredom because when you know something, there are no more surprises, just guarantees. " That's something to think about, just in case you didn't have enough ;). So I'm going to sit in 'knowing' for a bit as I come back down to an overcast KL afternoon. I can see little children running around and laughing downstairs in the pool.. it makes a change from the usual giggles that escape the mouths of a group of teenagers sitting in a circle with a few beats and a steady stream of smoke. My brain feels fed, now it's my tummy's turn - lunchtime!


Recipe of the day: Overnight oats

http://www.katheats.com/favorite-foods/overnightoats

Stars always follow a setting sun

To Tisbury we go

The sun's lower than it should be at 12:30pm as I sit and wind down, allowing all of life's little worries to slowly slip away as a stress-free family ridden weekend lies ahead. The weather's doing funny things now, 2 days ago I couldn't feel my fingers beneath 2 pairs of gloves and today I'm only wearing a T-shirt and cardigan. It fills me with slight dread knowing that in 8 days I'm going to step out of the aeroplane to be greeted by an intense wave of humidity. Acclimatizing to the tropics is going to take a few days of lots of pool and AC action, as I welcome frizzy hair and bikini's.
It's a bit of a shame really, the pain of the cold is worth it because it's leading up to snow and Christmas - the first part of that is something I just seem to have missed, out of sheer bad timing. The first 3 times it snowed in our area I was dead to the world, recovering from heavy nights - I woke up to the picturesque image of rooftops and gardens blanketed by a light layer of the soft, fluffy white stuff - the reflection of the low altitude sun was making it glisten and the pale blue background blended in perfectly. As for Christmas, I'm lucky to have been here for the build up. Watching the trees go from lush to naked - standing in rows and clumps with odd, bumpy, angular branches. At night they look like weeping willows from Harry Potter that are about to come to life and wrap their arms around you, trying to keep themselves as warm as possible by pulling you into their bare and magical worlds. 
Walking down the street, the few green plants and berries all stand frozen and preserved and a light layer of glittery frost covers everything. I picked a curled leaf off a branch the other day and it lay frosty and unchanged in my hand, a tiny piece of art. The lights are forever increasing in quantity, strung over trees, bridges and windows. Walking home I spot the tops of Christmas trees peeking through the windows, ours is spread out comfortably in the corner by the front door. M and I were leaning out our window the other day, braving the outside air to lift ourselves with a few puffs of an old friend. She described London as being muted in winter, and that was the perfect adjective to describe it. The usual buzz and chaos that London's so known for is reigned in a little, the light is dimmed, the temperature dropped, the layers added and the vibe softened. It's not such a rush.
I've always spent Christmas in the tropics and I feel so lucky for that, my Christmas' consist of tinsel wrapped around palm trees, drunken jams in swimmers and seafood lunches on the beach - it's special and different but it'd be nice to abide to tradition for a change.

So the countdown's on and the 'portals' have opened as of 12/12/12 -- that's what I was told by my my madre so I did a bit of reading and watching to get inspired and understand what I was preaching. So basically, the sun goes through a precession wherein every 72 years it moves backwards by one degree, journeying through all the zodiac planes - the 'age of Aquarius'  might ring a bell, this is the new astrological age that's begun, as the sun's equinox has moved from the Piscean constellation to the Aquarian one. So at various points in time, the sun is between its highest and lowest points in the sky, also known as an 'equinox'. One of these is to take place on December 21st - aka the December solstice, when the sun is positioned at the lowest point in the northern hemisphere and the highest point in the southern. It's in the centre of the milky way while crossing the galactic equator, and on December 21st at 11:11 (deep breath!), the precession of the equinoxes occurs. This happens only once every 26,000 years and the alignment will take place along the plane of the entire galaxy. This, as you can imagine, causes a huge physical change on earth..  
Just a few little random examples of how the movement of the moon/ sun affect our physical reality, to keep everything in perspective.. 1) That temperamental time when emotions run wild?  A woman's menstrual cycle is dependent on the position of the moon, affecting us both physically and emotionally 2) The movement of the tides (and given that the majority of our earth, and body consists of water, I'd say that's a pretty huge source of control.) 3) The migration and navigation of animals based on the position of the sun and sea etc etc etc. 
So during this shift, in spiritual terms, the 'portals' are believed to be open from 12/12/12 - 21/12/12,  the portals I refer to are "Places where the magnetic field of Earth connects to the magnetic field of the Sun, creating an uninterrupted path leading from our own planet to the sun's atmosphere 93 million miles away." In turn, creating different energetic fields and particles on earth, and in humans, allowing for concious growth and awareness. (http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2012/29jun_hiddenportals/).  It's a time to keep your heart open and your eyes wide. If I were to sit and breathe into this shift, the only image I could use to describe my inner experience is a wet cloth being tightly rung out. The emotional and physical changes happening right now are immense, and I'm using this 'shift', and my recently prescribed Microgynon (eek) to justify it. 
But what I seem to be picking up from all these spiritual sites and groups that I'm involved in, is the concept of 'unity conciousness' that's so important right now. We're so used to being individually wrapped up in our own worlds, yet we forget that we grow from others, so if this is a time for growth, it's important to feed into that. I, like many others, find that I get stuck in my own head a lot. Your problems absorb you and you lose perspective - other people bring you out of that. A recent source of inspiration, has come from a man named 'Bruce Lipton'. In one interview on 'the power of conciousness' he speaks of how we all have the ability to consciously change our realities if we emerge out of our habits that are controlled by our subconscious mind. His main message being that if we were to make the effort to live consciously for a larger percentage of the time, we could have anything - watch this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYYXq1Ox4sk). 

I'm looking over a green hill at the tip of a rainbow, the rest has faded and the very end where the pot of gold resides is lingering in the afternoon air. I'm daydreaming about the walk we're going to take later, past the little church at the bottom of the hill, up across the fields where the oak trees lie surrounded in a bleak mid-winter mist, and then up and over the gate that leads us back to the path, eesh I need to stretch my legs. But my monkey mind never hooks to one thought for long..
My bucket list is slowly being ticked off, but time seems to be, as it always it, the most limiting factor. Seeing family, godparents, old friends and new, buying Christmas presents, going to art exhibitions, markets, shops and restaurants  that I never saw and giving it all to the nights out that have to happen. Finishing the Crimbo rush and enjoying the last few days of a winter fling that's just started heating up; wondering what would have become if the flower girls adventures weren't so far away and if it were as easy as to hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks x

The smell of manure and sheep just wafted through the carriage - we're in the countryside!

Recipe of the day: Venison pie (had it last night, ah.mazing)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/venisonpie_89770
   

Oh dam

Pretty Canals

Haha, hey Amsterdam

Sitting on the carpet in my friends apartment in the centre of Amsterdam I can hear the church bell tolling and feel the temperature dropping. The bell rings every 15 minutes so it just becomes light and cheery background noise after the initial irritation passes. We're conveniently situated in the centre of dam, right next to the red light district, lovely coffee shops and gorgeous art galleries so we have sex, weed and art at our doorstep, perfect getaway. I'm here staying with a girlfriend for a little break from the madness that is London. I've been surprised by a few things since I've been here 1) not many people actually speak English. The one downfall of not being bi-lingual :s, so navigating my way through platforms and stations that all had kooky names wasn't too easy - thankfully I'd been given directions, all of which were perfect except the spelling mistake of the house number '85' instead of '58'. This lead to some rather exasperating conversations with neighbours that didn't understand a thing I was saying, and those that did were telling me what I refused to accept 'there's no house number 85 around here'. But despite the slight confusion I eventually made it safe and sound. The second thing that surprises me is the not so lackadaisical attitude towards weed. I expected to walk around with fumes of spliff drifting through the air and joints casually being rolled next to the pretty canals, but as I was told by my friend yesterday, that's really not what goes on. Police roam the streets fining public smokers or people with (a rather unlikely amount) >9g in possession, and the frowned upon image of teenage stoners,  is still frowned upon. But it's a fair system that I think should be adopted by more countries, the novelty isn't present if it's so readily available, the coffee shops swarm with tourists, not locals - and the government makes money off us all! The laws are changing, but I doubt they'll last.

Bicycle traffic

Before I came to Holland all I imagined were flat grounds and copious bicycles, and the stereotype rings true! It's so lovely though, I feel a lot more inclined to move out of the way when I hear a bell ring for a bicycle to get passed me as opposed to a loud horn and a bulky convertible. It also adds to the freshness of the air - here you feel like you're actually taking in more oxygen compared to London where the air can be stifling.
Speaking of breathing I learnt an interesting fact the other day -- to 'inspire' or to breathe in, is the root of the concept of inspiration. And if you think about it, when you're inspired you take a deep breath in amazement or admiration for the person, place or thing and you therefore gain something of value. I love looking at the etymology of words, it adds a whole new layer to something that was once flat ground - a bit like Holland, ha.

The second bell just tolled and I'm rocking side to side slightly, trying to keep my eyes open in my fairly delusional state. Over the passed three weeks I don't feel like I've had 1 proper nights sleep and last night didn't help. Flights in the early hours of the morning used to excite me more than anything. Getting up when it's pitch black to go on an adventure somewhere in the world gave me butterflies. But now nothing could be worse than waking up in the cold darkness, and attempting to function well enough to catch your flight on time. I decided against having 3 hours of sleep because that groggy feeling is almost worse than not sleeping at all. And I've come to realize the danger of this - I'd be staring at a painting to realize that the painting wasn't actually spinning in circles around me but when my eyelids had closed for the last blink in-between my nonsensical thoughts, had lasted longer than a few minutes and I was now dreaming. I managed this by setting an alarm every half an hour, much to the annoyance of whoever was sitting next to me but sacrifices had to be made. So now the endless days of not giving my body its 8 hours of sleep is catching up with me, and by 6pm, or after a puff on a joint, my eyes are droopier than the image to the right..

An old friend!

I had to slightly gather myself together and make an effort to socialize with a friend that I hadn't seen in a few months - he introduced me to my first coffee shop, that was by far the best - "Relax" (Binnen Oranjestraat 91013 HZ). I walked in and was sucked into the trip - crystals growing out of the tables, trippy colours and paintings all over the walls and images of eyes made out of beautiful stained glass. I enjoyed the experience while it was still a novelty, it was the strangest thing ordering weed from a menu over the counter and it being OK! You literally choose your strains off a menu, and a communal vibe of rolling and smoking. Looking around me as my head was floating into space I held onto the crystal to ground me and ensure my whole body didn't float off. It was so strange looking around me and wondering whether everyone else was feeling the same when their external appearance looked 100% normal.. besides the red, droopy eyes and the giggles. 

Pies..

It didn't take too long before our stomachs were rumbling and we made our way to the only English food joint that I knew in the area 'Pieminister' - I've figured out the reason why McDonalds, Starbucks etc etc are all so succesful are because no matter where you are, you always know what to expect of the ambiance, the menu, the music etc. it's always guaranteed so it makes people feel comfortable and 'at home'. That's how I felt in the pieminister, surrounded by Dutchies but yumming down a spinach, sundried tomatoes and feta pie with mushy peas and gravy made me feel right at home :) -- Mm so far Amsterdam, you've served me well. 



Recipe of the day: Feta, tomato and spinach pie 

http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/4540/crispy-greekstyle-pie-

Cradles and coins

At the moment I'm sitting in front of a lovely 4 month old piece of innocence, who I look after once every few days. It's a nice time to have a breather amidst the running around with silver trays and hot food. Playing peek-a-boo and waving around rattles luckily doesn't require too much exertion. The other day I was lying on the sofa feeding her a bottle - it's funny watching babies when they feed, their eyes roll back slightly as they enter this entranced state of pure ecstasy  interrupt this trance and you're done for. Her eyes slowly started drooping and I was sucked in to her dream-world as we both dozed together on the sofa, to be awoken 20 minutes later by a wriggle/ cue for a nappy change. It was a sweet site while it lasted - I told my dad about this and he raised his eyebrows slightly, concerned at the thought of his 18 year old daughters maternal instincts kicking in already.

Bonding time

One of the reasons I partly love babysitting is the fact that my boss is not a complete power-obsessed asshole.  Both parents are lovely, easy to be around and won't flip their lid if you walk in the door 5 minutes past the hour. This being a 'slight' contrast to the other bosses I seem to have acquired over the months. One, as I've ranted about before is a manic egotistical coke-head that's huungry for power. His demands strike a balance between being pointless and irritating but passively complying to them is the only way to avoid the storm. One waitress, well former waitress, had strong alpha female qualities and wasn't afraid to voice her opinion as and when it was needed - this, to his great frustration was a quality that he believed 'challenged his authority' and for no appropriate reason, her shifts were cut to nothing - so she left. On one hand, she lost a job, but on the other, she's escaping the Friday nights of sprinting around on tip-toes trying to avoid a conflict that would most likely end in streams of tears and low self-esteem. Watching him as he's in his element of rage is scary - his ego inflates to fill every space in the room, and his eyes flicker with enjoyment at having asserted his authority in whatever way possible. One of my colleagues describes it as 'soul-destroying' having someone constantly putting you down, but I've developed the technique of mind over matter. As he's looming over me, red in the face from shouting about how I need to take a tables order faster than they can give it to me (does that make no sense to you too?) my eyes slightly glaze over and I retreat to my thoughts. This causes his rage-o-meter to hit new heights as his desired reaction of trembling in fear isn't created.

That sultry stare

My second boss is only a few years older than me and doesn't have many admirers either. She goes from being a sweet and 'relatable' peer to lacking any charm or personal skills. I stood back from the table I'd just lain  - it had a ridiculous number of different knives, forks, glasses, flowers etc but it made me smile knowing I could put something like that together in 10 minutes and make it look pretty good. Boss woman walks over to the table and wipes away the perfectly lain cutlery infront of the first chair, demonstrating 'what will happen when someone sits down if the knives aren't pushed up half an inch further', pushing people around just.because.she.could. It's funny how status seems to affect the psychi so much. How people think it gives you the one-up and therefore allows you to be disrespectful and rude.
There are so many ways to go about having horrible bosses, you can passively accept the 'abuse' (yes, that may be a slight exaggeration)  or you can stand up for yourself. The thing is, by standing up for yourself you may get your point across, but then what? You get fired and replaced with a snap of fingers and no regrets. As nice as it would be to have violins playing, a box of chocolates and a huge apology - it's just not what happens in the real world and some just have to be put up with. My thoughts are, if it's only a few months - deal with it and make as much cash as possible, shit happens.

Street art in Aldgate East

During my down time I decided at the beginning of this year that it'd be a good time to catch up on all those thought-provoking books, documentaries and series that were always put off for 'free time'. The 'free time' in my head never really ends up happening - there's never a casual day with no to-do list or prior engagement, but somehow I keep thinking a week of having nothing to do will spontaneously present itself. So instead I've been watching bits and reading bobs in instalments  so they happen, but over a stretch. I just achieved the feat of completing a 3 hour inspirational movie 'Zeitgeist 3' - the inconvenient length meant that it took me over 2 weeks to finish it, but it was definitely worth the watch. The movie's basically about the earth's present state in terms of economics and development - and where we're heading if we continue at this pace. It talks about the illuminate - the individuals that own all the banks and major companies hence basically controlling the whole economy/ the population/ us. There's a long section on the monetary system and it's meaningless cycle - we pay into banks that don't really own the money in the first place, this same money is then sold, shared and borrowed - the game eggs on the desire for power and control and all sight of the true welfare of the individuals involved, is lost. This is a brief sentence that sums up a very detailed concept explained in the movie, watch it if you're interested (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ex8U_4rJn4s).
Two of the biggest things I extracted from that 3 hours was 1) The idea that a rising GDP is inverse to efficiency -- We're taught that the more money a country can earn, the better lifestyles and standards we as humans can have. However this documentary shows that in order for a product to be successful  it has to have a limited life span for consumers to keep buying it, hence nothing is built or created on the basis of being 100% efficient, because it wouldn't be in the interest of the producer.
Many examples were used to demonstrate the destructive properties of the monetary system, one such was crime rates and violence - and the root cause behind over 90% of this? Inequality between rich and poor, and the need to have money whether it's through drugs, stealing or killing - the vicious cycle and the unhealthy focus being ultimately self-destructive.

The venus project

They lightened the mood slightly after all of these fairly depressing facts and figures came out, by focusing on how we can change our world. They came up with 2) 'The Venus Plan' that's been in development for a long time, it's a circular designed system of living that wouldn't require money at all. The centre of the society would be run by technology that would monitor sustainability and productivity - there would be education systems, natural food supplies, methods of transportation etc. and we as individuals would be able to exchange services and abilities and focus on our more creative sides. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ex8U_4rJn4s) Now I don't know if I particularly like the idea of our society being run by technology  but given that humans don't have the objective ability to create anything that truly focuses on the welfare of the collective, maybe it's a good alternative. Changing the system that we live in isn't something that's possible overnight but the awareness being raised on what we're actually taking part in, is important to spread.

Autumn

So aside from trying to keep my brain fairly active, I'm currently planning and booking various flights for my gap year. I've taken part in many persuasive conversations about why I should move away from my comfort zone of Asia and venture into South America instead - and it's funny how fear of the unknown pulls you away from trying new things. But I've finally created a brief brainstorm of what I'm going to do and my mind's at ease.
I'm off to Amsterdam next week, so buckling down at work before I lose the majority of my brain cells on the flat grounds of the Netherlands. The weekends seem to whizz by, but don't they always? Yesterday I utilized the brief spot of Sunday sunshine and went for a stroll in our local park. I walked past the playground and thought about how much it had evolved over the years - The swings I'd been taught to swing on when I was 5, were still there. I could hear my mum and babysitter saying over and over again 'Legs out, lean back. Legs back, lean forward!' - and then after weeks of practise finally accomplishing what seemed like an impossible feat. The long brown slide used to be positioned by the monkey bars, it's now been replaced (due to the number of injuries) by a plastic twirly kid-friendly looking object that claims to be a slide too :s.

As I was walking out of the park the wind was causing little hurricanes of orange leaves along the path and the squirrels were running in and out of them with conkers or peanuts grasped in their little mouths. I walked passed a mother and child and we linked eyes and shared a smile. 5 minutes later I walked passed another woman with a stern, bitter look on her face - hoping to break her shell I smiled at her too, but only managed to get the response of a hard stare and pursed lips - I guess Sunday's don't mean the same to everyone.
The baby just opened her eyes and gurgled - bottle time!


Recipe of the day: Moroccan lamb burgers (Had these at GBK the other day, they're amazeballs.)

http://www.jamieoliver.com/recipes/lamb-recipes/moroccan-style-lamb-burgers

Stepping stones

Early autumn

After a tragic event has occurred the phrase 'moving on' is tossed around a lot, stepping onto the next stone despite how unpredictably wobbly it is -- but how long is that process supposed to take? What is the time bracket one's given before things start to get slightly easier? I've always found, with regards to the 'big black spots' (the darker events in your life that made a significant impact on your reality today), normality and growth only comes from acceptance, and acceptance is spurred on by talking about what happened. Something a friend said to me a few years ago that I'll always remember for its concise honesty - "everyone has shit going on, and everyone thinks their shit is the worst". And isn't that true? Of course relativism plays a role, and we only really have our lives to compare our 'shit' to - but in the grander scheme of things, we're probably a lot better off than many others.

Eva in the park - I love the innocence of kids

By getting out of your own head, where your mind has the power to turn the bat of a butterflies wing into a hurricane, you're able to 'move on' - in relation to the tragic experience I'm talking about, this means talking about my beloved uncle, his death and his life that many people seem to leave out. This applies to all tragedies, why hang onto the final few seconds of darkness, when the long and prosperous life that lead up to it serves for far more topics of conversation.

--
What I find fairly dangerous is that comforting feeling of dwelling in your own pool of grief, the 'poor-me' scenario that you need to pull yourself out of, especially when there are others more deeply affected than you - time to stop being selfish. It's actually comforting sharing the hurt with others.

I'm sitting on beanbags underneath my windowsill - it's beautiful today. I'm learning about London, I always had the impression that leading up to winter everything would become grey, wet and miserable. But the sun still shines! The temperature drops and the parks are no longer full of hundreds of people in their bikini's, having picnics or playing rounders and footie - but instead a more gentle approach to life begins, warm coats and flushed cheeks, babies wrapped up in blankets and the appreciation of a warm bed. Given, I am slightly afraid of turning into an ice-cube come Christmas but we'll deal with that when we get there. 

The phantom house

My routine's up and down now but my regular dabble in yoga maintains a level of stability amongst the chaos. Interestingly a lot of people I know are starting to find meditation, astro-projection and all those far-out concepts that don't get enough credit. I was standing at the train-station the other day thinking about that stability. Yoga to me, was essentially a pause - an escape from the buzz of reality to clear your head and get in touch with yourself free of distractions. Now I'm learning the importance of applying your escape to your reality. In meditation you're taught to just heighten your awareness, your senses - you hear what's around you, feel your surroundings, taste the presence and smell the now. But that should always happen - it's so easy to slip into your own zone when walking down the street, stuck in your thoughts rather than understanding what's happening everywhere at that moment. The lights of the train shone through the darkness and I looked up to see a white house peeping above the stone archway that framed the approaching train. The way the sun hit the white wall almost turned it into a phantom house - momentary awareness. 

I know it's cliché, but at least it's authentic?
Devon 2012

After having spoken to a lot of my friends, I've found lots of people doubt their ability to meditate or focus, so without sounding patronizing can I just say it's ok to find it difficult to hold that focus no matter how long you have done it for. When I close my eyes I first have to get over the 'thought barrier'. Under this invisible line are a million thoughts ramming into each other, 'breakfast this morning, booking flights, oyster cards, money, work, food' the list goes on. But above the buzz it's more of a clear white haze that doesn't require concentration
. 

Enough of the mystical - Saturday's beginning and I still have no sense of time. When you leave 'school-mode' and enter 'work-mode' weekends lose their meaning. A 14 hour shift on a Friday's one to dread, and a Monday's a walk in the park. Today's topsy turvy, and to get to the end you've just got to take the step and try not to get wet. 

Recipe of the day: Autumn cherry samosas (I was surprised when I saw this recipe too.. but so worth it)
http://www.fnfoods.co.uk/recipes/recipe-cherry-samosas.html

Creamfields

2 of the stages before the rain

I think it's fair to say without exagerrating, that the last few days have been the craziest of my life. Spontinaity is a really important part of living, and one that I strive to gain more of, being someone who's OCD is planning and organizing every minute of my time just for that comfortable feeling of knowing what's happening next. But the thing is, when a plan goes wrong, you're either left flustered having to handle an unexpected turn, disappointed that things didn't work out how they should have, or pleasantly surprised with the new outcome. The latter doesn't seem to happen too often, so I tend to end up disappointed or constantly buzzed in a heated attempt to follow my plan through. Spontinaity allows for no future thought or image - change excites humans, it's part of our nature to look for new and exciting things giving us that rush of adrenaline to feed off of. This weekend was like a tropical adrenaline storm, it just kept going with a force that didn't stop.

While the mud was shallow

Running around London day after day was getting tiring, and an email from a friend that I'd met once on a crazy night in KL, offering me an all expenses paid for ticket to 'Creamfields' (the biggest druggy techno-house-trance festival in England) caused my light bulb to ping straight away. I accepted on a whim, sorted out my shifts with the excuse of 'my cousin's last minute weekend wedding in Scotland' and picked up sleeping bags off a friend. Within a few days, a familiar face arrived at the door looking bedraggled after a 12 hour flight from Malaysia. The familiarity of having someone around that had shared the same life as me, was so relieving. It was so nice not feeling alienated or stuck behind a culture barrier. We spent three days in London, cooking, chatting, bunning and food shopping.

Taken by 'Example' during his show :)

The day of the festival finally arrived, we'd planned to have a full nights sleep before our adventure began but being the teenagers that we are, our heads hit the pillow at about 3am, giving us a good long 3 hours of rest before the alarm shrilled. Jumping out of bed in a state of pure dillusion, we showered, changed and grabbed our countless bags, dragging them down the pavement to the tube station at 6.30am. It's funny how easy it is to take a wrong turn when you're tired, and how much it affects your journey -- by the time we got to the station to catch our 7.30am train, it was 11.00am and 3 trains had since passed. In-between buying coffee to keep our eyes open, and conversing with his other two friends who had also missed their train, we managed to figure out that we could catch the next train at 11.30 and still get there on time. Luckily, unlike our friends, we didn't have to pay any extra costs for our mistake - we did however get moved back from first class to third, cramped up with our sleeping bags and boxes of rice-cakes in the corner of 'carriage F' - oh well.

We get to Creamfields, all we see are rolling hills, and hundreds of people with welly's and bags looking bright, colourful and ready for an amazing time. We could already hear the beats of Calvin Harris and David Guetta in the background, only serving to raise the anxiety levels to storm through the queue's and get to where we needed to be. We ran into a few road-blocks on the way to our destination but managed to get around them somehow (I tell you, having boobs in this day and age makes life so much easier). We amazingly got through the police checks, sniffer dogs and ID men without having ID or sober suitcases on us, and we made our way up the muddy path towards the campsites. We were in luxury camping, meaning hot showers, 'nice loos', set-up tents, airbeds and a short walk to the main arena's. It took us an hour to realize none of us had any sense of direction, and 2.5 hours later we had trudged through knee-high mud with our bags, having explored every campsite, arena and food-stall until we finally reached the tangerine fields - luxury camping. We walked passed funky heart shaped huts with wooden floors and beds (1k for a weekend) and sighed. Our 2 bedroom tent wasn't too shabby though, we lit up and lay down after our tedious journey, thankful to have finally arrived, at 6pm.

The crowd <3

We cleaned ourselves up (wet wipes ftw), got into festival gear and set out to join the crowds. The moment the magic kicked in everything went in fast forward, I felt like I was walking on an airport escalator, zooming through crowds and music -- the world spun out of control and the lights and colours carried us to a state of bliss. Nothing can really compare to live music, huge top quality speakers, the buzz of the crowd and the passion for the music, it went on till sunrise through the pouring rain and freezing gales. People's bones were literally aching due to the cold; body heat and dancing was frostbites only alternative.

Above and Beyond

Waking up in the morning all you could hear were mutters of 'is it cancelled? It's flooded. No Dedmau5. Everyone's leaving'. We poked our heads into the ongoing rain to ask what was going on -- sure enough, nature had got its own on technology and the sound equipment was all completely under-water. An intoxicated girl had fallen face-first into the mud and drowned, a man had shot someone in the head with his rifle, and about 20,000 people were all making their way towards the exit doors. Chaos.

Silent disco

Those of us who decided to stay, breathed in the opportunity with a smile. 80% of people leaving meant: Free food, free tents, free beds, sleeping bags, mats and chairs. We managed to move into a huge tent, we each had our own room, bed, (packeted) food supply and dry area - it was heaven. The clouds moved on and the sun came out at the same time as bikini's, shorts and glasses did -- the rest of the day was spent in a blazed wave, lying on mattresses in the sun.
By night, the mood had shifted. The vibe was so intense, this was the night everyone was planning on going wild. Substances, music, people, colours, everything was out in the open. The next few hours were like the first night, times a million. Hundreds of us raving on hills in the middle of nowhere. Everyone's eyes equally wide as we soaked in the atmosphere - we each met about 50 new people, heard a million new stories and tried a million new things. There was nothing to lose, no one cared what they looked like or sounded like, it was all about the love. The sun rose for the last time and we all sat huddled up, holding hands for body-warmth in the biggest tent we could find, still moving to the music. We packed in a half-daze and caught the last bus to the little town of 'Warrington' with a new group of friends we'd met the night before.

The rain took over.

We all walked into civilization together, feeling the cold-hard stares as people awed at our muddy, bedraggled and homeless appearances. From nature to cement, shops, and warmth - it felt so strange. Mothers directed their children away from us and we just stared in awe at how clean everything looked. We soon found heaven; the waitresses at Nando's hurried us in in a motherly manner, taking our bags off and sitting us down at their two biggest tables. We ate in a comfortable silence appreciating the hot food and the warm room.

We sat outside and rolled a  last celebratory joint. It made the realization that we'd missed three trains, again, less-stressful. We eventually sauntered over to the train station - this time, our seats had been degraded from first class to the carriage in which we sat squashed up on the floor with about 15 bags around us. At that point, nothing mattered, and we lay back on whatever was behind us, and fell asleep. London was a trip to return to - Carnival had just finished and it was feathers and glitter galore.. we walked through the craziness and finally got to what we'd been waiting for - a warm shower and a dry bed.

I've had a day to recover and my eyes still can't see straight. Post-festival-blues has hit and I'm wondering why there isn't a legal cure for this? The pharmaceutical industry are focusing on the wrong crowd.. The light at the end of the tunnel is seeing the photo's from the disposables that we bought with us (and magically managed to bring back!) if only life could be one big festival - Thank you Creamfields! You were a trip ;)



Recipe of the day: Daal and rice (This food saved me at the festival - an extortionate price of 5 pounds, but so worth the result)

http://www.indianfoodforever.com/bachelor-cooking/simple-dal.html

Carried by the clock

The last few days have shared a spaced out and dreamy mood that's I've been floating through, managing to get a few waitressing shifts in here and there, in the midst of experiencing living with 2 other guys in the middle of London. So when you live with people, there are a few habits, or quirks that start to matter. Cooking, cleaning, bedtime, routines that everyone's experienced differently having come from different families and cultures with different ways. It's interesting when you combine them - does the result work? Yesterday at lunch time, it didn't. We all 'assigned' ourselves various tasks - I can't recollect what mine was but the majority of it was spent relaxing in the garden on the phone to 'flu-camp' answering mindless questions about whether I was 'healthy' or 'had taken any recreational drugs lately' - Woops. But that's a story for later, the kitchen was a beautiful site. Glasses half full of 'Echo Falls' Rose, dorito packets scattered, cereal bars, chocolate wrappers, egg shells and no milk. If someone fancied a cup of tea - it would require a minute of manual labour or a 30 minute wait for the half broken dishwasher. No cups, cutlery or plates were available and the floor was covered in tobacco and crumbs. It's funny how fast a mess accumulates between a few people, but it can disappear just as fast when everyone gets their gloves on. The mid-work spliffs probably didn't aid motivation or the speed at which we completed the seemingly simple job. We joined the boys in the kitchen at lunch time - one of whom had been in-charge of food. The grossness of it didn't really hit me until I left the house, when you're hungry you'll eat anything. It was an oily pile of mash - what was in the mash you may ask? Frozen chips, fish fingers and chicken breast baked in a vat of oil. I chopped up a bit of lettuce just to delay the oncoming heart attack, and left the house with a nauseous feeling that has lasted until this morning. Besides the current lazy lifestyle, that you have to grab at while it lasts, the majority of our days are usually sunny and well-spent. Empty suitcases upstairs still await packing for our three day festival tomorrow, 'Creamfields' - setting ourselves up for a non-stop techno/house adventure in the woods.

London's an interesting place at the moment, the patriotic Olympic spirit still lingers in the streets, the night-life is slowly wittering out, Wednesday nights in Camden are no longer buzzing, now a more mellow vibe has washed over the city. I feel slightly sympathetic towards the para-olympians actually, the Olympic torch has been put out (yes they may have another one but isn't it slightly degrading?) and the thousands of american, Spanish and French tourists that roamed the streets of London are now dispersing to their corners of the globe. But apparently this is the first time the tickets for the p.o games are all completely sold out so there's a pat on the back. I've had numerous recent discussions regarding what constitutes a 'para-Olympian' and what disabilities are more 'limiting' than others. The athletes are identified by the sport they play not the disability they have, yet isn't it more advantageous to be a deaf runner than a blind one? Where does the line actually end - I'm sure there's a long and boring rule book answering my question that's very closely followed and monitored but when you see it all from an objective standpoint without understanding the fine-print, these questions are bound to arise.

So following on from my earlier sporadic mentioning of 'flu-camp', a concept that had not even entered by realm of thought until 2 weeks ago when the prospect of earning 3 - 4k in 11 days made all my senses heighten. You basically sign up for a clinical trial in which you're a 'human guinea pig' for 11 days. You're given a mild strain of the flu, followed by treatments that 'cure you'. You're placed in a suite with wireless, flat screen TV, playstation and all the other gadgets and techy things you can think of - and fed three meals a day, in isolation. On mention of this to my dad (which I have been constantly reminded wasn't the best idea), he retaliated with a very well thought out argument. Stuck in isolation for 11 days, having to endure a nasty virus, getting random unknown drugs injected into your body, and the potentially awful yet unknown long-term side-effects. So this is my current battle, the money vs. the risks. It's that moment of temptation when it could all go wrong for a bit of money, but if it goes right, you would spend forever looking back at the decision with fond memories and a smile on your face. I think a pro's and con's list is in need.

It's midday, I'm the only one who's made the bold move of getting out of bed, meanwhile we're wasting another beautiful day indoors.. walking into the kitchen is like deja-vu, I'm avoiding that section of the house for the time being, with the slightly doubtful hope that when everyone wakes up our productive juices will start flowing. The plan of action today is move out of this house and leave it 'just as it was left', an image i struggle to visualize; rewarding ourselves with the current 'Damien Hurst' exhibition at the Tate Modern. Some of the features are said to include a room full of thousands of butterflies, a carcass being eaten by flies and various other gruesome but fascinating depictions of nature. The last exhibition I went to at the Tate a few weeks ago was in the new section by the 'tanks'. Various underground rooms have been built to showcase the talents of various Korean, German, Dutch etc. artists that have a flare for the disturbing. I was with a friend when I went to see this, we observed individuals in the queue being pulled out and ordered to sit down in a corner for no apparent reason. We were approached and led out of the long line directly to the exhibition. It was all part of the act, the artists desire to show how workers and labourers desired freedom yet were constantly held down by their 'class' and wealth-status. So much of the art was open to interpretation and some I found leaned further towards the abstract 'could mean anything' type of art but you had to appreciate what the artist was trying to share.

I think breakfast is on the cards - the one safe meal that doesn't require any effort (if there's any milk left that is.)


 Recipe of the day: Rice pudding

http://allrecipes.co.uk/recipe/157/easy-rice-pudding.aspx

Ranting and raving

My stream of conciousness is about to commence, brace yourselves..

London's quirks - a car covered in grass

Slowing down. I've found when you move to different places you tend to absorb your environment.. you adapt if you will. Different people, trends, weather. It kind of brings out different sides of your personality. I've landed myself in one of those weird limbo situations where everyone's either about to go on holiday or working really hard; it's tough to find a balance with that fresh newfound independence. But ayway, I've temporarily developed this really quiet persona - London's quite a loud and full on city it's quite humbling being constantly confronted by such a strong 'individualist' society. We spent years studying this in psychology, and while I was able to reciprocate all the studies etc. on paper, I didn't truly apply my knowledge to my surroundings, until now. Asia's generally labelled a 'collectivist' society, in which the culture is to work for the benefit of your community, while individualists tend to work for the benefit of themselves/ the individual. This rather selfish mindset is so evident now, everyone paces around with their own agenda here, there's not that lacksidazical sense of community that is so inherantley present in every Asian country i've lived in.  It's interesting people watching, just noticing the little things around you - a man sitting in the corner playing a xylaphone, a group of little girls running around while their mums drink coffee.. waitresses, shopkeepers, business men and women. When you stop to see it instead of being constantly distracted by your non-stop thoughts, it changes your perspective on things.

Caterers digging into irresistible chocolate

Catering has opened my eyes a bit more as well, having to endure all the tiny details of setting up a dinner, the angle of the knives, the different wine glasses, the position of the chairs, every detail has been though of before hundreds of guests swoop into the room. When the celebrities are present it's when the dynamics get interesting. The other night there were two big-shot MBA players invited to a dinner that I was catering for at the British Museum; though i had to strain my neck to offer them canopy's, their personalities shone through their celebrity status and we conversed about how their time in London had been. Other guests however did not have such a polite demeanour, though they were without the sticker of fame they still had the sticker of wealth, that had manifested itself into a snobby attitude with no respect for 'those working below them'. Some people brush you aside with no effort to make eye contact, while others merely shake their heads and pout as they turn away from the calorie infested platter of goods. The main point of my rant is just that by observing the behaviour and attitudes of people around you really allows you to check yourself and appreciate the small details that go into customer satisfaction.

Totally unrelated but I love the madness:
Food art - Joli Lapin

In the background Giles Peterson is playing on itunes.. he's a radio presenter interviewing David Roddigan an old time amazing reggae DJ. Discussions on racial repression, the age of reggae, the best and the worst. It feels like such an achievement to enjoy a buzz and feed your brain something at the same time, 'when you choose to take control and not let it control you.' As a friend G.M would say ;) Speaking of substances - I was sitting on the tube today listening to this man standing next to me, attempting to pass on his worldly knowledge onto a seemingly naive ukranian woman. "You know Yoga? Meditation? Incense? Yeah I do it all.. I take Ketamine and just meditate until it wears off, it's really good for you". I couldn't help but smirk at the convincing tone in his voice, and the total lack of awareness in her face. She nodded passively as he continued his rant about how more people should follow in his footsteps otherwise he'll have to 'wind up a few fingers and tell them to fuck off'. Totally dillusional - but then again aren't most people?

Food art - Joli Lapin

I was asked the other day whether I had many fake friends and I replied no. Acquaintances that put on a smiley face and make meaningless small talk whenever they see you, yes, but everyone has that crowd - it's not possible to have a significant depth of friendship with everyone so it's inevitable that with some, the relationship's remain shallow, and that's ok. But then we began listing the qualities that our friends had in common: Green smokers, intelects, partyers, a sense of culture, it goes on - but one thing that I did pick up on was this concept of 'theories'. I have many friends that come up with 'their own' theories and that ties back to this dillusional world that we all live in. I believe theories are like flashes of awareness or realization, about something that was black and white before and have just gained access to the edge of the colour spectrum. It's almost like getting to the next stage in a Maths lesson, when you finally unlock the box of understanding to trigonometric relationships or any of that insignificant info. You feel a sense of achievement at being able to apply your own knowledge to a real situation. When you can figure something out without being told, it's when you rise above that standard conciousness and access human potential that we don't take enough advantage of. I mean think about it - everyone has a human brain, and we've seen countless examples of 'geniouses', creative minds, inventors, artists, writers etc. who've all utilized theirs to discover another piece of the infinity puzzle. If we all tuned into that, we'd have a crazy world full of crazy, subjective and 'dillusional' ideas. The conversations my friends and I engage in always leave me thinking.

Food art - Joli Lapin

But now the day's winding down. I walked for 40 minutes down a busy street today, in my own bubble listening to the rythms of acid jazz. The clouds were all overlapping and forming scale-like shapes, intertwined with the light blue background. My eyes have been drooping since 6pm due to the miniscule amount of sleep we managed to attain last night. Another little 'did you know' fact for the day - once you've lost sleep you can never get it back, whether you sleep all day, if you've lost sleep at night, when you're natural circadian rythm (biological sleep cycle) is programmed to sleep - recovery isn't actually possible. So i'm planning on giving my body a treat and staying in tonight, TV remote, lighter, tea, blanket - sorted.

 Recipe of the day: Sundried tomato, spinach and feta quiche

http://www.food.com/recipe/spinach-tomato-and-feta-quiche-33454

A comment on creativity

Yesterday morning began as routine - it's funny how you can be in a place for only a few days before you begin to develop your own little pattern. Adaptation, well in a comfortably warm cottage with endless (touch-wood) sunny days, it's not too hard to get into. I got my breakfast together, sliced nectarines that were on the brim of being over-ripe, the juice spilling all over the counter. I still haven't mastered cutting nectarines, you can't slice them into segments because the flesh doesn't pull off the stone, and slicing it against the stone leaves you with lots of excess flimsy thin slices that aren't any use to anyone. Pear, banana and strawberries joined the mixture, along with a few nuts, seeds and natural yogurt. I sat opposite my dad and brother who were munching on bacon, fried egg, potato cakes and toast. A bit of a contrast. 

Frisky food art - Joli Lapin

My laptop was situated next to me, and I pressed play on the 'TedTalks' that spanned my screen, it was titled 'Do schools kill creativity?' (http://youtu.be/iG9CE55wbtY) Sir Ken Robinson's main point being that creativity stems out of having no fear of being wrong. Think about the theories that arose when people thought the earth was flat, had many moons, or was the centre of the universe. These theorists are still talked about today, and through harnessing their creative streams and having no fear of putting their idea's out their though their theories may have been wrong, they led the way to the right discoveries. Schools today label being wrong as detrimental - I remember being handed back my essay's or projects and seeing red pen spanning the page. Crosses on maths papers, a loss of self-esteem when your grades for that english paper weren't what you expected. Memorizing the exact definitions for exams and the biological processes that we splurged onto the page, only to forget them weeks later. Of course you can see this in positive terms aswell, school's just want to produce kids that will work error-free in a demanding world that's getting tougher by the minute and constantly looking for qualifications that you can only get if you pass that exam or get the best grades in that English paper. But one big part of school that I always found to be unfair was the focus on awarding the best. Whether it was for 'academic achievement', or 'outstanding athletic abilities', only the individuals who rose above the rest were recognized, there's nothing wrong with this, but what about everyone in-between? Effort was never really seen as something that important if it didn't get you to the top, competition was constantly thrust into our faces and 'a friendly game' to purely enjoy the activity of writing, dancing, acting, singing, playing or whatever it was, wasn't really an option.

It's an apple fly! - Joli Lapin

A sports shoe and burgers, oh the irony - Joli Lapin

The speaker in the video talked of school's focus on developing the analytical left side of the brain, the more prestigious subjects like maths and sciences being of a higher stature than the arts that focus on the right, more creative side of the brain. The thing that I don't particularly warm to in regards to the analytical subjects is that the answer's either right or wrong with no space for grey area. Yes, there's no room for bullshit or talking/ writing your way around the answer, if you know it you know it, if you don't you don't. But this doesn't allow for any individuality. 50 people can get the right answer, but who stands out if they're all the same? I love that through English, you have to argue your point using your own devices; the basis of these are tools you've been taught, but each argument is seperated by the individuals thoughts and opinions towards the matter. So do schools kill creativity? I think many of the institutions that exist today do, yes.

Food art - Joli Lapin

Interestingly the day before I watched this TedTalks, I was conversing with my dad as we wondered through the Devonshire forests. The 3:00pm sun shining through the trees cast abstract shapes over the bumpy terrain and the stallions on either side of us had their heads lazily hanging over the shaded gates at the edge of their vast fields of green. I was talking about the institution of school, as we have a great friend that's decided not to send any of his kids to school simply because he doesn't believe in its principles. They're still being taught by their parents to read and write, the basics. But instead of spending their days sitting at tables filling out worksheets enclosed within four walls, they walk the trapeze at circus school, prance around in ballet, draw, paint and mould in art classes, and run, swing and slide in the park. They have a truly active and creative childhood - I can see this being more difficult as they get older, especially if some of them want to be doctors or go into other professions that require qualifications and schooling. But it made me think whether the hours, days and months spent reading textbooks and writing essays was all worth it - in such a competitive world where degrees don't take you as far as they used to;

Walk back from Gara

I feel like a bit of a sheep sometimes, going along with the rules and regulations of society to 'hopefully' get to a point of success in the future. End up in a career that I'm truly passionate about (hopefully in food), a stable financial situation and a good degree of excitement and change brought about through travelling and experience. But isn't that the dream most people strive for? And how many end up selling their souls to jobs that earn buckets of money but have them sitting in an office from 9 - 5, 5 days a week. I have too many friends that have fantastic lives financially, but never see their dads/ mums as they're always away on business trips, or stuck at the office. I truly hope I don't get swallowed up in the money cycle.

Haha, dad looking slightly senile

The opening Ceremony!

So my dad thinks schooling and university and qualifications give you choices, especially if you don't know what you want to do in life. And along the way you may meet someone who offers you the job of your dreams or your path might change completely but to have the foundation there is a safe and stable bet. But the thing is, as great as it feels to have an IB diploma behind me, I can't help thinking that if I'd been taken to schools for art, circus, dance, culinary, singing, acting (the list goes on), whether I'd be in a state of passion and drive right now, instead of looking ahead at a slightly daunting three years of university with the hope of coming out with a BSC in Nutrition and Food science. Yes it's well respected, but I don't like that life's about pleasing and impressing others with your 'highly respected degrees' and not about engaging in activities that you absolutely love, without playing it safe. I guess you find those activities and passions along the way? I don't think there's any right answer..

The crowd the crowd

Today was lazy again, at one point everyone had fallen asleep on the grass in the garden, I lay in a patch of sun reading my new, recommended book that's very interesting but requires a high degree of concentration, "God is Not Great" by Christopher Hitchens, an athiest with strong opinions, and strong support, i'm two chapters in and the grip's tightening.. Everyone slowly started moving and we made our way down to 'Gara Rock' again, spending the rest of the day with friends playing cricket, bat-and-ball and football on the beach. The day ended with a bang watching the opening ceremony of the 2012 Olympics in 'The Pigs Nose' our local pub. It was full to the brim, we'd managed to find a table with a great view but as the masses started piling in, standing on our seats was the only way to see anything. It was an odd but interesting opening ceremony, the queens emotionless face serving to humour everyone, especially when "God save the queen" was sung. Rowan Atkinson definitely had the most laughs - the best addition by far. The energy of 'great British pride' began dying down as the 160+ countries walked around the stadium bearing their flags and camera's and we left the pub in the evening lul. On our drive home we came across a wide-eyed tawny owl in the middle of the street. It looked exactly like the owls you see in books or cartoons. We continued on as it glided up to the telephone wire above us and I fell into a daydream about an old childhood tape I used to listen to 'The Owl who was Afraid of the Dark' by Jill Tomlinson (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VOaQ0f6TRsY). I lay down with a cup of chamomile tea after another beautiful day, time to shut-down for a few hours. 

 Recipe of the day: Classic lasagne

http://www.bbcgoodfood.com/recipes/10602/classic-lasagne