craig is a guest speaker on Pulse Fm today, in their health slot, talking about the pro's and con's of pharmacotherapy, and harm reduction. Scared!

i choke on something sweet
woke me up tonight
you reach across to hold me
but im not there
you dream of someone else
i just pray to fade
i reach across to hold you
but its not there
the sun it burns through windowpans
its an artifical heat
throw open the windowpans
so its cold in here
you know i'll always want you
even more when you say now
i'll reach across to hold you
but your not there

Some moments are fragments.
Like yesterday, the water was green/blue and crystal clear and deep, and i was alone, sitting in the middle of the bay, watching everyone riding little waves off the point, content and perfectly still. Taking the occasional hump if it came my way, just sitting with peace otherwise, watching fish dance beneath the board. Motionless amid the everchanging liquid canvas.
Then today, the wind turning onshore, the sun shining just as bright, but the mind feeling clouded, unsure of self, of place and time, not able to find that peace of the energy to look for it, knowing where it is be found. Instead i feel stale, a sharp contrast to yesterdays crystalline edge.
Im not saddened by this just finding it hard to accept the moment, the contrast.

Saturday was a good day.
It began with a paddle out at dawn, still dark nearly, as the sun rose above the horizon the ocean was lit orange and red and a glassy 3 foot swell was illuminated, waves were surfed and shared with a few other dawn raiders, no crowds, no wind, just warmth, oranges, reds and noserides.
Then to melbourne, and food...
Jean Paul Jeunet and Phillipe Mourchel cooked (they were both in the kitchen)!

Coquille Saint Jacques roties une polenta cremeuse aux blettes, tuile de lard seche, un jus terre-mer aux sucs de betterave
Pan seared scallops, soft polenta with swiss chard, red wine and beetroot jus and crispy pancetta tuile

Filet de veau roti et carrotes confites au carvi, Cromesquis de ris de veau et jus a l'origan
Pan roasted veal tenderloin with glazed carrots and caraway and croquette of sweetbread, oregano jus

Chocolat et chicoree, en transparance, croquant et moelleux, cristalline cacaotee
White chocolate fondant and chestnuts, coffee-caramel sauce, chicory ice cream

Espresso

Petit fours


and home, and the wind still offshore, so more waves to end the day...about as perfect as it gets.
I love my life. and my wife who shares all this with me.

not sure what i miss, but there s something this morning, and it feels oddly deep and powerful, not simple things, like the supermarkets, my old job, the road signs, the smell, it feels something more powerful, all those things and more i guess rolled into one are what i miss the most, the fabric of it. Having watched the olympic's from another nations point of view i have felt more and more isolated and alone here. Being different is lonely, not in a way that is possible to describe, nor in a way that anyone would understand even if i were able to explain it better than i am, but the difference is palpable, and i feel it most days, normally in a subtle way. But right now, and probably due to my weakness from the sickness, i feel it in its extremes. This makes me thing whether life would have been better if we had stayed, life would have been the same for sure, but better, i don't know. I have learnt alot form moving overseas', alot about myself and my relationships, with friends, relatives, loved ones, and how i relate to them.
Much of this feeling i think, or hope, must come from fear, the fear of pending change, or if not change then the fear of acceptance. And the changes that are happening, are inevitable and will always be happening in some form. People leave, friendships are made, broken, separated. New lives are chosen, and are only commitment is to ourselves, that we accept this with grace, and make sure we are not living of the coat-tails of others. Some of that has been happening in my life right now, and this is something that i need to stop, and let go of, put trust into myself and have some faith in the direction.

how do toy summerize a life lives? i have been looking back over my and friends journals since 2003, i dont weite on here anymore, not often anywys, but often turn to this when the memories are running all over me. I think back to livng with pete, before wives and loves and when it was just friends and I and emptiness and happiness and loneliness and eagerness and hope all rolled into one. When i smoked too much, when oete stayed up so late i saw him go to bed on my way to work, whne i learnt guitar, when i wrote lyrics, when i cooked the meal on "meal nights", when i ate Link's coq au vin. when pete cooked a roast. When we left the heater on 24/7. When Nick sold his flat and we had to mvoe to kings heath. When Jaime and I would smoke and watch movies, sitting at hampton lakes with everyone where, going home at dawn, racing our parents cars, Dann!, Jam, Em, Lou, Pete, Ed, Dan, Ben, Jez, playing pool in the garage of 145. Sitting with pete in deck chairs by the open garage door watching it rain, smoking. Cleaning the house to erykah Badu and shake and vac, and washing 48 tea cups. Pete didnt like coffee, look...red label. Sleeping on the sofa, LTJ buke, 2 concerts in one week. AOL, instant messenger, "main module failure" Pints at crisps and nuts at the Pat Kav, the smell of the Pub on a quiet sunday afternoon. Barbequing in the garden, barry's mate who had to have everything burnt, football golf. Golden Virgina from my mums mate at the hospital.....all the memories i put here for me, for you pete to read, for memories sake.

i gave up smoking on the 27th may 2007. Which means the one year mar has slipped by without me noticing. I've had a few smokes over the months, just on the odd occasion, not felt like pursuing this further, im proud.

play finger picked, fret slicked slide for me
take me back to the fire side, four tracked
endlessly
smile and crack another can, remember how we ran
and flew kites lochside, waterfalls climbed
endlessly
A shadow cast, these images last
floating in icy pools, grass clutched
remember me

I have had, and have some of th greatest friends a person could ever wish for. A random smell, song on the radio, or taste of some food, even a sudden change in the weather can transport me to a moment i figured long forgotten, and place in the experience so fully i feel it on a physical level. In some ways i am i am both blessed and cursed in being so far from my friends. Blessed in the way that i know these friendships are as strong as they ever were, blessed in the way that from this distance i see them with a new kind of clairty, blessed in the way that their absence forced me to often rely on memory, that memory is now so vivid since it is not distorted by their presence, cursed but that fact, cursed that they are not there for me to spend time with, few new memories are being created, i'm living on my past, but what a past it was...
simple pleasures were found with each of them, each friend brought something special and unique into my life. I think back to the time i spend living with Pete, and the friendship we forged there, listening to the thuds fo LTJ whilst cleaning the flat, getting the light right, making tea, changing the music and sitting, smoking, talking, laughing, every moment was joy filled for me, even in our darker moments, which we boh had, there was always the bond. I discovered music over and over during those years, and miss that connection now.
unfinished

we are only seating 20, one turn only, byo, brown woodedn panels, half booths, half tables that are big enough for a few plates, becuase thats what you order. We try to be bespoke and cook what you'll fancy but we only have two guys in the kitchen so give us a break.
Duck confit, rib of beef with fresh horseradish, crumble. or it might be a slow roasted pork belly, pulled, with creamy garlic mash and buttered braod beans if its early in the season.
I'll bake every day, chewy sourdoughs, and serve them with a cheesy french butter, or some REALLY good olive oil, but butter i think.
There will be a pepper grinder on EACH table, yo can grind your own, but the parmesan will be grated of a block the size of your head.
We'll light the place properly so you can see who your dining with but not every corner of the dining room.
Chocolate will be valhrona, because i can afford it.
The staff will all eat from the full menu and bring a bottle in once a week.
to be continued

all day it has felt as if there is something very very wrong. I feel it in my stomach, as a nag, in my mind, as a thick dull fizz. I hope it was something i ate. Cant seem to focus on enjoying anything, too much time by myself i think.

theres some things on my mind this afternoon. Im sat at the kitchen table, outside its raining, the fig tree's leaves are tunring a pale yellow, the end of the summer passed and autumn has arrived in all its damp glory. I ve been thinking about friendships today, about what friends i have, about how tye are scattered across the world, the best of one, luckily for me i married, but the rest are flung far and wide, the two i love most dearly are at odds with one another. I dont think this will ever be reconciled, for the one is sitting where they sit upholding their positiion, and the other is unaware of the feelings of the other, or if they are aware have reconciled their feelings. Life ticks by moment by moment, and we all carry on with our days in blissful ignorance of the damage we do to one another, in our ignorance we hurt others and in turn hurt ourselves.
friendship is a wonderful thing, a true thing, and i wonder if i have it now, how strong are these bonds that i used to think were oak? Time can water these things down, the distance sure doesnt help, birthdays tick over and lives are lived, people mve though the drama of their lives and the lingering adolecent friendships dragged into the twenties in absence of material foundations get replaced by bricks and mortar, by bank balances, careers, lovers. Is there room in our thirties and forties for those friendships forged in the fires of a homone maelstrom? do those superfical ones that replace them become all we need. In times as these, as the rain lashes the roof, ben harper in my ears reminding me of times passed, i need the friendships of old more than i can describe, alas, they will never be relieved, nothing ever is....
I know i have 3 friends, 3 friends, after all these years, all these people that have come into my life, and out of it, there are 3 left, 3 that will do all they promised, 3 that will never judge, three that cause me no pain when i think of them, three names, that give me a sense of love when i think of them, three that will cross rivers and oceans for me. Facebook tells me i have near a hundred, i know, i just checked, near a hundred, bullshit. Those three are all i will i ever need. And i love them more than i love anything in this world.

it was late spring 1999 when i returned from bedford, free from the madness of the three years that preceeded it. this is when life began. Not sure what the meaning of the years prior to this seminal one was? I took off with eddie and if i could have my time over i would never have come back, still now the one moment sat overlooking the sun dropping below the horizon after a day in the waves, tight skinned, salt encrusted, shoeless and complete in more ways than i can adequately describe. Since this time i have been fighting for the same inner peace i once had, sat on that car roof. I lost something when i started to look inwards. I found some other things too, i found myself inside all of that, and that is of infintate wealth, maybe what i am searching for is not accurate. Maybe im not searching for some beatific solace, maybe i am romantasing a period of time and not in acceptance of what i have right now. For what i have now is timeless. We cling to moments, sepia toned replays of time passed play inside my mind, like some lament for something precious lost, and in doing this miss out on the glorious techinicolor of the now. And that is the mistake. The ultimate mistake, the mistake i keep on making.

I listen too much to the inner workings of this mind, listen to all its craziness.

When time slows down, when i get things in tune, when i accept the flow and let things drift i find all the peace i could ever wish for.

sick today but by tonight was feeling a bit better, got out for a bit of fresh air, the sunset was amazing, tried doing a few jumps to, just to liven up, didnt work, but aptly, laura cut off my head, which is the bit of me that hurts!

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.



The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.



The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the outside world. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees

graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.



One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything? It didn't seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window - and that thought now controlled his life.



Late one night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and choking stopped, along with the sound of breathing. Now, there was only silence--deathly silence.



The following morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away--no words, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.



Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall.

im on flickr here snaffles home on flickr

some mornings i wake up and feel complete, happy and totally present. Normally it is a friday,a dn the difference between the friday feeling and the monday feeling are poles apart. The weekend starts in under 8 hours for me now, and whilst its not about drinking, partying, or any of he "weekend" stuff, which is not my scene, i look forward to it like a teenager with raging hormones and a pocket full of money!
The surf looks good, ive fixed the dings of my old wooden noserider, and the weather is cool enough now to keep the jokers at bay and to warrent brewing up a tea in the billy post surf. It has to be sai there is nothing finer, so waves it will be.

here's the latest...