Remember...

Remember This??

Just in case your memory is hazy...this is kids having fun. 

Without the need for a i box, or a pod phone or a XT or HD doo-hickey or anything. 

Now...don't mistake me for a technophone; I love technology and what it has done for my life as much as anyone.  Hell!  I live here! 

But I don't feel I need an Iphone; and unless one falls from the sky into my lap...I shall do without. 

Seeing these boys yesterday outside my place rolling an old tractor tyre along the cliff- it was a beautiful thing.  It reminded me of the good old days. 

Well, the old days were not so great...but I do remember enjoying simple things. 

Like playing with found objects. 

One of MY favourite things to do as a kid was ride my bike around town, looking for empty bottles so I could take them to the shop and get the money back. 

Re-cycling!  Aaahhh...those were the days. 

And this kind of fun does not rely on bandwidth.   

I'm not saying unplug and stand outside looking at all God's miracles (although I don't exactly discourage that!), but I am saying...

What am I saying? 

I think I say enough.  I think maybe we all do. 

Just look at the boys, playing peacefully with an old tyre. 

And remember...

 

Ample.

And speaking of divine feminine energy & 'ample' breast...let's deal with another 'home truth'. 

Deep down...most guys love a 'fuller figured woman'. (I'm one of them.) 

But most men are either conditioned over the years by the media to a particular type they will likely NEVER find (even if they really wanted it), or they are still slaves to this notion that having a big girl is somehow...questionable. give me a hot coochie momma over a walking skeleton any day.

These antiquated notions (& other ones like 'it is right to hit women', 'war is a good thing' & 'Hollywood should keep re-making old TV shows') should be drowned like plague rats.

It's about knowing your own truth, and owning it. 

I denied most of my own natural feelings/inclinations in order to fit in with what was 'expected' by my peers.

I remember even as a kid, that playground crap about 'fat chicks'...

I loved ALL types of women. 

As a child...you don't have bigotry. You pick that up along the way.

Hence, I was gradually socialised into an aversion for certain 'types'; fat, buck toothed, freckled, flat chested, even RED HEADS!  Are you kidding me????

And according to my observations- this bullshit hasn't gone anywhere. 

Here's to all the women (& men) who have children, and especially those who have young boys.

Well done you for helping to encourage a strong young male mind; he will need it for bilge like this.

Of course a woman's mind, personality etc are paramount...but if we MUST focus on physical beauty (& of course we must!) then why not face facts? Big sexy women are here, and they are here to stay. 

In Australia, there is a campaign at the moment encouraging the ampler women to model-  & an emerging market to accomodate them. I think this is wonderful. & it is working. This way...if we cannot encourage young men to think for themselves...then at LEAST we can affirm the natural inclinations and tastes of the weak minded with pop culture. Hooray, I say...

Big sexy women are here, and they are here to stay. 

I am thinking of a healthy boy with a very healthy mother at the moment.

She is kind, caring, attentive to his needs, requirements and his development, and at the same time wary of her own influence on the boy.

She questions the way she is bringing him up every single day.

What more can you ask, really?   I think she is doing JUST FINE.

I wish I had that kind of upbringing; I had to re-learn all the healthy ways of thinking and behaving.

Thank you to all the 'mothers' who are helping me to be a better man.  

I am thinking of you today...

With love. 

Safe.

Another thing I realised...I just feel safer with women. 

I guess that's why I have so many female friends. 

I remember when I was a little boy, I was on a trip somewhere; Mum and Dad were in the front of the car (Dad driving- he always drove) and I was sitting with my Auntie Lorraine in the back. 

I was feeling sleepy, so she let me lay my head down on her ample breast, & I slept soundly and peacefully.  Like a baby. 

I was not so sure about my Dad- I don't remember EVER feeling safe with him- but I DID feel safe with my Aunty Lorraine.  

On some level deep inside me, I'm a little bit wary of men.  In my twenties and thirties, I can remember starting fights with them in pubs.  I guess this was partly to do with my conditioning (Dad spent endless hours teaching me how to hit other men, saying it was 'the only language they understood'), but I wonder if, on some level, I was not somehow getting them before they 'got' me.    

Like the way I was conditioned to treat women; 'dump them before they dump you'.

I know not all men are like my father- not all men are savage, boorish brutes (just like not all women are angels!), but I simply feel safer with women. 

I noticed they don't start as many major wars as men do; that says something. 

Today, I give thanks for gentle feminine energy.   

Thank you for making me feel safe to be me...& to treat EVERYBODY with love.

Heart.

A Valentine's Day No-Brainer.

"When you love somebody...set them free." 

It scares me about the human race we even need to be told this. 

I have a saying (it's a fairly recent one) "I let you go so I can love you better." 

Seems pretty straightforward...but it's astonishing how many people take this as rejection. 

We are such an insecure species...we need to hold onto things. 

We HAVE to learn to let them go.

Watching the movie "Melancholia" last night...I was reminded of what IS important, and what is not. 

Money, riches, prestige, power...none of these things are important. 

To live, to love, and to LEARN TO LET GO. 

These are all that matter, in the end.

Happy Valentine's Day to all.     

Let's keep going...

Armistice Day.

I was lying in bed last night, & I heard a loud noise in the next room; I was startled, my heart rate leaped, and my breathing quickened.  It was nothing major, but...

I realised...I still felt as though Dad was going to come into my room and thrash me. 

Even though he is now dead, and it was a long time ago...I still carry that legacy inside me. 

I am a grown man; & it still shakes me to my very core. 

I am reminded...I have to find a way to let it go. 

This fear deep inside, and all the latent hatred and negativity that go with it. 

It was 11:11 when I decided to write this piece. 

Armistice Day. 

The war is over, time to start again. 

Time for all the abused children to lay down their arms, and walk away from the battle. 

It is time to flush all the hate, fear, loathing, anger, anxiety, & trauma from our system...

And let love in. 

Love is everything. 

Love is the lullaby for a wounded world.

Let the healing begin...

<3 nbsp="" p="">

Love IS all you need: & I'm going to prove it.

Watch this space, if you dare/care...

It 'aint me, babe.

Next adventure March 19. 

My tastes are not lavish, I stay in dumps and dives and hang out in the poorer parts of town- but these things cost virtually nothing. 

Someone asked me recently how I can afford to travel.  As he took a drag from his cigarette, we established that my last trip cost half his annual cigarette budget.  Blow it out your arse, mate.  It's about priorities. 

I love adventure; and if you do it right, and you have no other commitments, you can do it cheaper than staying at home.  Maybe I should write a book about it- people don't believe it can be done. 

Maybe I will. 

Stop and talk to a backpacker.  If you have the guts. 

Some people think it is money keeping them from living the adventure. WRONG.  It's fear..lack of imagination...& SPIRIT. 

Being ready to DIE in sleazy places to get the pump. 

People baulk at my pics of the ghetto.  & these are NOT Bosnia!  Grow up, and LIVE!!  Get a set of balls, and screw your courage to the sticking place.  (& don't bleat about families and children & job as an excuse- you made your choices.  I know what it's like to be thrashed by an old man who was resentful we held him back.  I DON'T buy it.) 

Someone to blame for staying home?  It 'aint me, babe. 

It's easy to blame others, or look for excuses, or citicize those who are living the dream.

It 'aint me.