Tuesday, 23 December 2008

It's Coming On Christmas, They're Cutting Down Trees

I'm so hard to handle
I'm selfish and I'm sad
Now I've gone and lost the best baby
That I ever had
I wish I had a river I could skate away on

Oh, I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I made my baby say goodbye

It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
I wish I had a river I could skate away on

(excerpt from 'River') Copyright © 1970; Joni Mitchell
Painting is called 'Skaters' also by Joni Mitchell 1994

I just thought I'd send out that rather reflective Joni Mitchell song on this blog ("I make really sad Christmas songs"). I've been trying to learn how to play it on the piano for ages and I can just about do the simple chords. I feel as if I haven't openly quoted Joni enough in these blogs. She is a songwriting genius. Frank, beautiful, a voice that can shatter a heartache and also a painter. I am attracted to people who aren't afraid to take risks with their art, their feelings at the risk of their popularity. What's important to them is the truth.

Anyway, it was at the works Christmas party on Friday when Lee Paddock (whose job title has 'Chief' in it. I've always liked that word, especially when used by streetkids for some reason) asked me to name 3 good things this year and 1 bad thing that has happened to me this year.

Christmas is often the time for reflection over the past year and on the moments spur, over our Thai Christmas Meal (a Metrosafety tradition it seems) I came up with these:

(I would like, all ye you read this, to quickly whack me off a response along the same lines, and you don't have to be as verbose as I have been.)

Three Good Things
1) I became an Exhibited Artist - something that in all my days I have never thought I'd have the guts to do.

2) My blind spot which was diagnosed earlier this year (bottom left corner), is actually due to scarring from the AVM bleed 24 years ago, and not an indication of anything that is about to happen. That was confirmed by in April. By the end of April, I joined The Everest Test as a Trektator.

3) I have met an incredible bunch of people who, over the past year, through some quite testing moments, I am really proud to call my friends. Hopefully friendships that will go beyond April (David Thomson, who sat opposite, said, "Yes, I can see that, and I'm quite jealous of that aspect of it, I'd really like to go up with you, if only just for that. You're very lucky."

One Bad
1) I have realised I've wasted an incredible amount of time procrastinating, that I can actually do things that aren't within my means. Not just this year, but I realised it this year and I've begun to take a deep breath and leap. I regret not doing things. It's worse than regretting the things I've done. I wouldn't change a thing that I have. Well, almost. It's taken me 36 years to learn that.

Anything is possible, you just have to allow yourself to make it happen.

Merry Christmas everybody. I hope you have a great one.

Thursday, 18 December 2008

Waterloo Sunset

If you travel via Waterloo frequently, using the travelators, one thing I like doing while walking on a travelator is looking down at the moving walkway ahead of me. Do this for about 15 seconds (don't worry the travelator at Waterloo Station between the Jubilee Line and Northern Lines takes a good 1 min 30 secs, so you won't find you've run out of travelator). After that 15 seconds of looking down, quickly look up at the rest of the tunnel ahead. Because of some strange 'eye thing' the whole tunnel seems to be moving away from you in some freak 'trick of the eye' fashion. Please note, the travelator has to be fairly empty, so this is an 'off-peak' activity.

I used to like walking up to escalators and grabbing on. The lurch you get when something suddenly takes you somewhere is exhilarating and you have to run faster to catch up. Like joining friends unexpectedly in the night and suddenly going on adventures to the other side of town, or Brighton/Glasgow, someone's rooftop. This small lurch of 'escalator fun' was always kinda fun, a little bit of joy while traveling - escalating - or even travelating - for that matter. Ok, yes, it's only an escalator, I was going in that direction anyway... but I think it's important to have a little bit of internal joy while doing mundane things. Some people read while traveling, some people listen to their Walkmen (pl. of Walkman?). I prefer that internal dialogue. It's good to be peripatetic. I'm glad I like it as under 4 months we'll be doing a lot of it for 18 days.

At the moment I've realised that I seem to be faster than the speed of escalators when I walk, faster than I used to. Perhaps it's just Christmas and the need to get things done is fairly time-sensitive, so there's no chance to dawdle. Perhaps since I've stepped on board The Everest Test 2009 Train Boarding for Nepal I've just become more focused, a little more intolerant of time-wasters. When I joined up for this attempt, my first response was like joining an escalator that was traveling at 100 miles an hour and I took a deep breath and leapt into that traffic. I think that this event, this attempt, this 'thing' has taken over my life. The people who I mention it to are really in awe that I've even considered doing this, let alone actually doing it! I dunno. Perhaps I'm living my life a bit more, rather than just be a passenger on the travelator of someone else's. I can't believe I'm paraphrasing my own poem there. Maybe that's what poetry notebooks are for.

I've learnt a couple of things about myself recently.... More on that once I've had my peripatetic on it. I've learnt a couple of new words as well. Some thanks to Word Of The Day. Some not. "Snoodling" being one of them (thank you Chris Martin).

"Peripatetic" being the other.
Definition 1: On foot, walking from place to place.

Usage 1: This word stays the same in both adjective and noun forms.
Also, peripatetics are journeys on foot.

Definition 2: Relating to the methods and thought of Aristotle, who
conducted discussions while walking.

Usage 2: The word gains a capital when you're talking about philosophy.
A peripatetic is someone who rambles on foot; a Peripatetic is an
adherent of Aristotle.

I don't think I can give you a definition of snoodling. Muslim upbringing. Nuff said.

Anyway, I'm sure I promised a photo album from the London Freeze which happened about 2 weekends ago. That is to come. I promise.

Traveling for some people is just a means to get to the destination. For us Trektators, it is the journey that matters most. It promises to be filled with lots of little pockets of joy and wonderment. What we pick up along the way, what we learn, the experience on the journey. 'Journey' has it's etymology in the French for 'day' - Ours will be 12 days up to watch some people play cricket on Everest and perhaps take some photos and a couple of days down again. I'm anticipating lots of learning on this journey and, after our little Trektator dinner on Wednesday, lots of fun.

Meanwhile I'll be having a few rambles once the Xmas sales
are on and I can buy my trekking shoes from Blacks. I've been highly recommended a brand called 'Rutger Hauer' or 'Bauhaus'.

something like that.

Tuesday, 9 December 2008

Movies of Myself.

I guess I thought I'd make a little video of what I've been doing (or not doing) to raise dosh for charity and awareness for prostate cancer.

FAQ's answered:
Yes, I do shave that quickly.

No, it doesn't hurt.

An evening.

A month.

15 months between us.

We used to work together.

Cumin seeds, coriander seeds, star anise, mustard seeds, heated in a pan, add oil, fry the onions until softened, add the curry powder made into a paste, fry until the oil rises, add the chicken pieces, add the potatoes. Add water. Cook until potatoes as cooked. Add coconut milk. Add green beans. Then cook for another 5 mins. Leave for 15 off the heat. Serve with rice.

36. (I know. Comes from being semi-Asian)

It's going to drop off.

April 2009.

Not on Everest, at Gorak Shep near the Base Camp to Mt Everest.

My Dad is from Malaysia, my Mum is from South London.

When I was 16.

An actor.

A painter.

It's been mainly theatre and voice-overs, though I did do an advert for Maltesers when they sponsored Will & Grace (check my facebook vids). And I was a Palace Guard in 'The Phantom Menace' and 5 episodes of Grange Hill in 2000 playing the older, racist brother to a regular character.

Portraits and abstracts.


Pass. We don't talk about that in open fora.

Pass. Now, you're flirting. Cheeky but that's not for here either. Off the record it's absinthe.


Can I end this now? I have a knish and Christmas shopping that needs attending to.


Amazing weekend just passed. More of that later when I've learned how to picasa everything.... until then enjoy your week!

Monday, 24 November 2008

Ain't No Mountain High Enough

Well, after the seriousness of the last blog, I thought I'd add some levity to the proceedings. I'll try and not be sesquepedalian while I'm writing, though I do like to, after becoming a huge fan of 'Word of the Day' emails from YourDictionary.com. But I digress.

Now that I haven't tergiversated (damn! I'm not usually given to sesquepedality but I've done it AGAIN!) I've started training again with the guys and gals of Hillary, Tenzing and the Trektators, though finding the time to get there is often frustrating as many nights are taken up with finishing (and starting) commissions. Neil and Tom ('The Sharlands' as they are known on email messages) continue to push us (me) to our (my) limit. I was meant to be going to Chris 'Kiwi' Palmer's run around Battersea Park this evening but work kept me late and it would've been silly to try and catch up with them. (Silly for me that is, not so silly for the people who attempted Mudman this weekend. Check out Glen Lowis' blog for a good (tough) read).

It has recently turned cold so I am enjoying my assassins gloves that were a Christmas present last year. Not only do they look really cool and like I'm about to commit some sort of 'Murder She Wrote' crime passionel, but they also provide me with entertainment while traveling: -

Yes, part of my recent pleasure with the sudden cold weather is secreting my Oystercard in the palm of my assassins gloves so when I pass through the barriers I just seemingly touch the yellow circle with my hand and the barriers magically open, thus making me cyborg, like Seven of 9. Or a Padwan Jedi.

The fundraising continues, should anyone want to donate to my justgiving page for this crazy trip, you've just gone past the link. It was back there. Stop, don't read any further, it was back there. About 2 and a half lines above this....

People have donated to my Everest MoVember page on the ubiquitous (stop it Zooby) facebook and just this month alone, I've raised 12% of my Everest target just for growing a moustache and raising awareness for Prostate Cancer.

While it's the run up to Christmas, the lists of equipment that we may need up that mountain has been sent to our parents and we're sitting under the Christmas tree like expectant Ewoks waiting for a windfall. I'm borrowing friends' items as they have been before. (I declined the insulated pants, thanks Monkeyboy, I'll get my own from Millets, thanks, no, I insist, I'm sure I'll be fine. No, really... )

Meanwhile, I realise that home news is conspicuously missing but it's fine, Mum is up and about, back at work (I'm a little concerned that the hospital discharged her without her indicators being checked properly - so really there could be things going on that we don't know about) and is the backbone of the retirement home where she works. Dad has been given his date for his op at the end of Jan so by the middle of March, he should be up and about again. Insh'Allah. As they say.
The Mo - Day 1 thru to 17

Meanwhile tempus fugit. April is under 5 months away. We're going up to Base Camp on Mt. Everest. Let's get Christmas out of the way first, shall we? One day at a time.

Monday, 3 November 2008

With A Little Help From My Friends

Well, It's Been A Hard Month.

It's difficult when your family mean so much to you. Doing things your own way, being out on our own is, in one way, empowering, but in another isolating. I've done it for years now and I've got used to it. Not that they don't love you. On the contrary, I am rich with the love. Early on in my career, they helped me out financially, a lot, supported my decisions. Now that I'm on my own two feet in a precarious industry, with several jobs to make ends meet, it's been time to put a little of that help back.

When Mum suddenly fell ill again in October, my world did get a little darker. The overwhelming desire to just drop everything and go up and see her was immediate. The need to be beside her, hold her hand whenever she went for tests, like she did when I had my brain haemorrhage all those years ago, was immense. I knew I had a party to help organise, I'd promised loads of people that I'd be there to lend a helping hand. It felt like a really cold-hearted and calculated decision. I went up to see her on the Monday because I knew that was the only day off I was able to get from my temping job. Wednesday was the party. If I went up on Monday I'd at least be able to judge for myself how she was and make that call to see whether I was able to make it to the party or not. It sounded really trivial. It was just a party, like any other. Was I being selfish? Was I just being self-centred? I needed to know before I could make that decision. When I got to the hospital, I was surprised to see her laughing and joking and she'd even put make-up on for my visit. She's a proper lady. Always presentable when receiving guests. At least I knew that she wasn't hooked up to machines that went 'ping' with wires and tubes sticking out of her. The doctors had taken test after test, litres of blood. They'd ruled out a lot of things early. The pain in her shoulder and chest indicating one thing, the blood tests indicating another, both signifying nothing. She actually looked tired but not without humour.

Satisfied with Mum's condition, I was able to fulfill my duty to the party, help with the set-up, take the photos that were required, be on door duty. It was fun, it was a good distraction. I know I missed the speeches, taking calls from Fazz and Ma at various intervals throughout the night. From the feedback that everyone has got from the players and the venue, it must have been a resounding success. I think I've compartmentalised my joy somewhere along with the need to scream at the top of my lungs. Remind me to open up that joy box at some point.

Thursday night was the cruncher. A phone call. Mum may have to stop work altogether. As the major breadwinner in their home, it has a knock-on effect for Adam and me. Perhaps not so much for Adam as, financially, he's in a good situation and is able to help. For me, knowing that everything that I've earned gets sucked up straight away into bills and living, it's heartbreaking to know that I can't. I am the bad son. The exhaustion of the last few weeks, the worry, the fear. To those that knew, I want to thank those that have helped me through this period, gratitude fills me from the tip of my hair to the bottom of my toes.

Looking at it now, nearly a month later, mum is out of hospital, still awaiting tests. She's considering taking it easy. Dad is going to have a major operation which'll put him out for a few months, but this is a known, expected. The worry levels aren't going to decrease but at least he will be in good hands at Addenbrooks and hopefully the operation will make his life a lot easier.

However, with all of this going on, and that single violin playing in the background, I have questioned my taking part in the Everest Test.

Why Am I Here?

Do we doubt our abilities to do this?
Perhaps I have that big questionmark over my head. If I had the financial ease of my brother, this doubt wouldn't be so pressing. We've all got financial troubles at the moment, we're all struggling. It's not just me. But we're still here. The support (in lots of ways) that I've been getting from my family and friends in this project has made me think that there is hope out there, that I am doing some good, that they believe in me, that I will find the rest of the finances, energy, strength and courage to pull this off. At this point I want to thank my flatmate Obe, who hasn't complained (yet!) since I've turned our kitchen every Sunday into a production line for making and selling curry. The finances are trickling in! The artworks that I've made at home sell to friends and it does make a difference. The acting work that is also trickling in helps a great deal (I guess that's my biggest disappointment so far, that those jobs haven't been forthcoming until lately). I just have to have faith that it'll happen. It'll just take more time than usual. I just have to have faith.

Yes, it's good to help a community thousands of miles away do the basic things that we take for granted, but why, when you're finding it hard to help the ones you love? For what reason am I doing it? Yes, I have many personal reasons (I don't believe there is any such thing as pure altruism. Even on a Geldoffian level, he's able to see the world and use his celebrity to create change. But he's seen the situation out there, to him it's tangible. To a lot of us, cuddled up in snuggly duvets it's hard to imagine. I haven't fasted since I was child to even know or remember what that is like.)

I do want to be the first in my whole family to get to Base Camp.
Surely I can do that at any point in my life. Why now? And this is a reason? My uncle in Malaysia was playing golf with someone who said they were supporting me do this thing. (I don't know who this is, but I have an idea that it's an Old Boy connection from V.I.). For someone to approach my family in Malaysia and talk about this gives me a great sense of pride. A Malay guy I spoke to asked me why I was doing this - Am I chasing a datukship? (a 'datuk' is equivalent to a knighthood in Malaysia.)

I laughed. I certainly wouldn't be the first Malaysian to attempt this.

I do want to challenge myself.
This will probably be the most physically taxing thing I have ever done or will ever do. Why now? Times are hard enough. Because I'm still privileged, because I still have all my facilities, because I can.

For recognition.
On a small level, doing something like this is going to give you some kudos. For the players, it's much bigger. For the Trektators, are we just in it to bask in reflected glory? What will happen to the Trektators in May? Recognition is not a strong enough reason, I'm afraid. Currently we're still un-named on the official website (a rather large hint here to get it sorted guys and gals, come on, update that page).

For that sense of adventure
. I spent the weekends as a kid scrambling up the hills behind my house finding secret waterfalls, building minature dams out of the orange mud, going jungle trekking, finding a box of dynamite and then realising that we didn't know what to do with it, being chased by wild dogs, throwing rubbertree pods into clear pools to see whose pod would go the furthest. To watch the monkeys play on the border of the rubber plantation and our housing estate. To feel like that kid again.

For a sense of camaraderie.
I started out this expedition knowing only one person and thinking I had nothing in common whatsoever with anyone else on the trip. That has changed now. I've met some good people and made some good friends and I wonder if we're all thinking the same thing? The Trektators who I'm in contact with regularly strengthen our resolve to get things done. It wasn't a reason to begin with, but with each talk we have with each other, that strength builds.

To support someone who you believe in do something they have a passion for
. That is the strongest pull for me. It's a rare thing to find someone of (vaguely) my generation who isn't apathetic to the worlds problems. To see it in action is amazing. I want to be part of that. I want to be the change I want to happen in the world (to paraphrase Gandhi).

Getting on with the job is where I am going next. It's only been possible so far with the help of my friends over the past few weeks. Now that I'm biting that bullet and taking the step to committing fully to this challenge, I've gone all out to promote it. My justgiving page has been live for a day as has my facebook group page. Already people have started donating and I've managed to collect a fifteenth of my pledge and 128 supporters. This weekend has been a turnaround.

Sunday, 5 October 2008

It's Training, Men, Hallelujah

Well, after several weeks of training with the Hillary team in Battersea Park (Wednesdays 7pm, Saturdays 10am) I have finally been able to do 3 pull-ups (or are they called chin-ups?). In fact I've did more than that in the pyramid system (you do 1, then 2, then 3, then 2 then 1 etc etc). Yes. 3 consecutive chin-ups but really I managed to do 9 in total.

Never have I been able to do them. No upper body strength at all. Was a proud moment, I tell you. Still my cardio has a lot to be improved but that will come the more I do (duh!).

Still smoking which is annoying. I seem to only smoke weekends though, which is an improvement (is it? Why bother smoke at all if you only feel you need to smoke 3 nights out of 7?). And of course the two people who I have spoken to about it in the past week have also been up to Base Camp (to do the Highest Music Concert which took 2 years in planning and was beaten by Jamiroquoi with 45 minutes planning as he hired a Lear Jet and took the record. Officially they are the Highest Terrestrial Music Concert ever while he takes the title of highest ever. Yeah Thanks JK.... and the charity you were supporting was something to do with overblown egos who need big hats to contain their heads.) and said that smokers are better off when they are going up. I need HARD evidence. I want to quit smoking. FULL STOP.

Perhaps my theory of quitting 6 months beforehand while the lungs still have that capacity of remembering to work harder but really, having more healthy lung cells at the same by the time I get up there... will actually work. Gawd knows. It's a fear. And it's not a theory I'd advocate or condone anyone to do.

Also my photographic skils are improving. Quite glad at that. My portraiture is getting there as the days progress. Only a little tweaking on photoshop. Here's one I'm very proud of: Lucy 'Brooksie' Brooks.

Saturday, 16 August 2008

Back On The Chain Gang

myself and Jenny Seagrove discuss painting.

Well, after 3 weeks of not smoking, I fell off the wagon. Slightly disappointing but I guess I'm torn between being healthier generally by not smoking or by the anecdotal evidence that smokers actually fair better at higher altitudes because they are used to the lack of oxygen.

What is a boy to do?!?!

Well, the plan is to completely quit smoking. It's not cool, I don't look like a smoker, I'm not happy smoking.


No, it doesn't. It doesn't at all. Who am I kidding?

I re-started smoking after the exhibition opened. It was a very nerve-wracking day having never done an exhibition of my paintings before. It's very different from the acting, I must say. With acting there are so many factors that are out of your control night after night at each performance or take. Costumes can go wrong, lines can go astray (or is that ashtray?), your scene partners could be having an 'off-night'. You could be having an 'off night', technical things could go wrong. With visual art, it's there, before you, for people to see and you're among the crowd gathered, picking up on snippets of conversation (I remember hearing some woman in tired blonde tight curls talking about one of my paintings, not understanding the humour in it. The one called 'Rutland'. Snatches of views in my memory of what it used to be like learning how to drive in Rutland on winter afternoons with the sun low in the sky, painting the land red. Clearly she didn't like it, or perhaps she didn't get just that one. It is the bastard child among the other oil pastels. Or perhaps it was the frame that it was in. 1930 velvet frames are really hard to paint for!)

It was the first sale that lit my cigarette. Like a mini celebration. Like the breaking of a curse, like the opening night not quite enough of a success without one. Stupid really. What sort of a celebration is it to stick a burning stick of poison in your mouth and suck deeply?

If I quit between now and Everest will I have a cigarette once the cricket game has been played to 'celebrate'? Idiotic.

To be honest, I can't wait to be sitting at Base camp with my sketchbook and pastels taking in the views, making memories. Perhaps another exhibition following whatever comes out on that mountain. Perhaps a joint exhibition with George, the bona fide photographer.

Ok, so this blog has more of a serious tone to it, but it's all randomly related. Like it says on the box.

Monday, 21 July 2008


Now blogger.com has created their basic pages in Malay! So for a week I will be presenting my Blog in Malay. Well, maybe not entirely in Malay, just the basic pages, as that might take a whole week to read! And I'm sure that most of you don't speak Malay.

Do you? Or is that a broad assumption?

Buggerit, maybe you do speak Malay.... here goes...

Syoklah! Saya merasa sangat gembira yang saya akan pergi ke Everest Base Kem bulan April tahun depan. Saya tahu bawaha bukannya senang tetapi saya fikir yang kami boleh berjaya mencapai cabaran unik ini jikalau kami berkerjasama, jikalau kami berupaya tolong-menolong bersama-sama, di mana bantuan dikehendaki.

Don't you agree? :)

Thursday, 17 July 2008

Bleep Bleep! Who's Got The Keys TO My Jeep? VrooooooooOOOOOM

Yes, believe it or not, that is another song quote. Thank you Missy Elliott.

I just thought I'd put down my bleep test at a nice round 9. I couldn't go on past that. Not really. Not without a fag. Now that I've quit, I'd like to see where I stand. Still a bit longing for a fagorette but not really. I don't miss them, I just miss the timeout.

Wednesday, 16 July 2008

The first Training Sesh

... is always a bitch. Kirt and I got there traditionally late (work shizzle) but got straight into it more or less...

I can't remember how long the session was, and I'm not sure entirely who was there... some faces I'd never seen - Tom's brother Neil (well, I'm assuming brother, they looked similar and they were both called 'Sharland'). Some chap called Paul who I'd never seen before on any of the events I'd been to (I've only really been to the first meeting about the trip and the London Crawl Shenanigans thingy so I'm not sure if I can call myself an expert on the people going... I don't even know all of the trektators and we're all on the same team!!!!) and there were people at the fitness session that aren't even going on Everest... crazy bunch of fools. A cameraman, some tall bloke (not Dave tall, but tall enough) and a couple of others who my hazed mind is struggling to recall.

Anyway, it was towards of the session that I started to drop off, not really pushing myself... and then I thought... 'hang on a sec, you're 4 years off 40 next month and you're not playing cricket on Everest, you're taking photos. Get a grip!!!! But yeah. I think my hearing has returned to normal now and my heartbeat has eased. I still can't lift my arms up with any ease. And the rushing in my head is now silenced. Quite grateful to hear that other people were experiencing similar physical sensations, not just me thinking 'ok here we go AVM Haemorrhage II: The Bitch is Back and She's 20 years older......'.

I have to stop doing that... I guess a 20 year old habit is hard to break, especially since it's been the only thing on my mind for the past 8 months.

This is only the first day of fitness training, what am I going to be like tomorrow or on Friday when the muscle healing really kicks in? We shall see... I'm just glad it wasn't as stretching as capoeira. I think I have to go back to that and try to do at least one session of capo a week. I need to get my pre-The Letter fitness back....

(ok, so the photo was from the bleep test last month, I needed some sort of photo of people doing fitnessy things and Miles was there).

Anyway... Am I a serial blogger?

Should I mention....

That I have quit smoking? Will it last? I hope so... It already feels better, just this amazing pull both ways, one to end the hunger of that nicotine beast thrashing around by lighting one of Obe's fags and keep smoking, or to smile through this period, knowing that it isn't that hard, really, however hard it actually feels. Yeah. You want a cigarette Zubairi? This isn't suffering, get real!

The other side of it is a great joy that it's actually working, that I fear that I might actually succeed....

Or maybe this is an 'up' day. We're meant to have up days and down days. Just like normal, non-smokers. Maybe that's all it is....

I'm in my 3rd day of it. I came out to Obe last night. He was a bit shocked. He didn't know I'd quit. Mind you, we hardly see each other as I'm always out boozing and whoring apparently....

Not true.

I'm more or less teetotal.

Sunday, 13 July 2008

Yak Yak Yak Yay Yay Yay.

I've added this link to my blogroll (these guys do have a sense of humour, whoever created this).


He's the chap who created this whole Everest adventure. His baby. A whole troop are making it happen.

It takes courage and imagination.
And strength
to carry it through.

Have a read. He's also just started as well. It's going to be amazing.

Give up yourself unto the moment, the time is now.

Yes, it's a song lyric...
I thought I'd start as I mean to go on. Music has played an important part in my life. While I enjoy music it's always frustrated me that I've never created music but maybe that'll change.

This year has been a year of ups and downs. Maybe more of that later when things start to settle. After the exhibition. After Everest. When things have started to settle... when the pockets of busy-ness have evened out. I hope they don't. It's good to be over busy.

Does anything settle? Are we always in a state of flux? Maybe we as humans are constantly changing.

'We're only particles of change, I know, I know....
Orbiting around the Sun.....'

This is my first. I thought I'd join the bloggers. It's all the rage in Malaysia.

Here I make the leap.

Watch me fly....