| Sunday, May 29, 2005
On cue |
| And on cue, winter has come to town. The mountains are covered in the thick quiet blanket of white that somehow also shrouds the place in a brooding mysticism. I love it like this. Tom and I were swimming in the water off Ruby Island on New Year's Day and I clearly recall how we both stopped for a moment and thought about how almost unimaginable it is that in just a few short months that the water will become inky and impenetrable and the mountains will draw closer and return to the indigo silence of winter. Before I knew it - it has happened. Tom is in Sydney after finishing his Rolfing course. Our lives seem to scatter so easily now in this brave new world of affordable air travel. Rae of Light and Fraser and John are in London. Bevan is in the states. Adam is winding his way back in the direction of Helsinki. Andrea remains in Sydney and Ben in New York. Stephen is there too. Rob is god-knows-where. Julia is anywhere at anytime. Where I am is running along the road in the lee of Coronet Peak with Tim (ahead of me). I like where I am. As Cilla McQueen says in her poem To Ben, At The Lake, "The world is holding me up very well today". |
| Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Elicit an email |
| I think in my rationalisation of my many online identities I may have sent the wrong message. I definitely am not seeking to cut contact off with anyone, only to unify things a bit more. The story is that all of my online activities got a bit out of hand. I ended up with profiles and accounts on almost every messaging service and site known to man. In the same way I'm told that elderly people listen to late night talkback radio.. I would amuse, distract, reassure and avoid myself by talking endlessly to endless numbers of people online. Some of these people (Andrea, the writer of the previous entry in my journal is a case in point) have become important friends of mine, it certainly was not all fatuous communication of little moment - in fact I probably set up a little virtual community of my own using these means. I have met and engaged with and developed great friendships with people who are like me, who are substantial and fascinating in their own right.. and who hail from all over the world. I'm not eschewing all my online contact with people in some radical moment of change.. but I have taken stock, and simplified my 'online life'. I now have one email address, [email protected]. I have one instant messaging login, MSN: [email protected]. I have this website: www.chris.net.nz. And that's it. More than enough for a man of the real world to be getting on with. I'm not aiming to eliminate contact with people online, only to get it into perspective. So don't feel abandoned if you're reading this and don't seem to 'see me online' anymore. I'm still here and I'm still loving you as always. I'm possibly just sitting quietly at home listening to music and reading a book or spending time with Tim or Bagley rather than tapping away at my keyboard. All good? |
| where oh where ... |
| Well ... it's been a few days that i'm constantly thinking of you! I have stopped wondering why that might be ... i just accept it and go with it! : ) What am wondering though, is why is it so hard to communicate with you these days? Is there a galactic storm deflecting all my messages to a parallel universe where they are then wrapped into little "baci" perugina (for those who don't know baci are an italian chocolate with a nut on top!) and sold on the black market! drop a line, i miss hearing from you! : ) |
| Christopher Waugh
responded:
Oh you! |
| Tuesday, May 17, 2005
The Outlook for Thursday |
| It was predictable really that I was going to write less to this once the term started. You often hear it said about childbirth that the pain is never remembered. I think teachers experience a similar phenomenon. We have regular holidays, and it would be during these holidays that we would re-evaluate our work as teachers, but we mysteriously forget the intensity of term time as soon as the holidays begin. Instead we recall with fondness the term time as dynamic and often thrilling. It's funny how little memory we have for stress or tiredness or the just-never-quite-ever-just-getting-there. (Nice grammar mister Waugh). Wanaka experienced its first 'inversion layer' of the season yesterday. It's getting cooler and I haven't even begun to feel cold. I still sleep with the window open. I fully recommend an up-bringing in Dunedin for a life-long immunity to the winter chill. It no doubt helps that my little office is a good 3 minute jog from the networked photocopier. I keep active in my free periods. A person I care about sent me a message talking of autumn and the end (or change) of a relationship that was very important to him. I know about the ending of relationships that are important, but it so often seems that the people who talk to me about this situation are the ones who have been left. In my case, I'm always the big bad leaver. There don't seem to be so many fast clichés available to the person who does the leaving. He's meant to move right on. He wanted the ending in the first place. He's getting what he wanted. He still misses the person he's left though. He still thinks about the aspirations for his shared future that are now lost. It's been interesting how much lately I've been thinking about my previous relationships. Sometimes I think it's easier to be the one who is left. Then you can feel angry, get support, experience a self-pity that is fully sanctioned by the masses and ultimately move on. We all know the grief stages and we're all infinitely patient with the aggrieved one. Grief in the one who does the leaving is largely regarded as unseemly. No-one has much patience with self-imposed sadness. Sometimes it is actually harder to face that you've been the architect of your own relationship failures. You've only got yourself to blame. I'm sounding morose, I know. I'm not really. It's just that I have these thoughts as well as all the good ones. Dwelling under the inversion layer gives rise to all manner of still grey thoughts. If I write in here that my warrant of fitness is overdue, will I be more likely to get a ticket? Somehow it wouldn't surprise me if the Ministry of Transport and Google were in cahoots. It is overdue. I have to find a new garage with a mechanic who understands human relationships. So, I ought to balance my risk and also mention that my lovely Poppy, the Landcruiser PZ70 is still for sale - go Google go, do your magic and find me a buyer. I snore when i'm sleeping on my left side. I've been waking 5 minutes before my alarm, then falling back to sleep at 5 minute intervals until the snooze runs out. I've been trying to go to bed earlier. I'm making slow progress on that one, but I have actually been sleeping a few 8 hour nights. How about that? ... otherwise fine. |
| updoc
responded:
I have a friend who knows someone... |
| deanboy
responded:
in that sort of situation is it really fruitful to blame anyone? pointing fingers ends with everyone snarling, hackles up and ready for a fight. |
| Sunday, May 08, 2005
Fraser says the mountains are closer when it snows. |
|
| updoc
responded:
Well I feel obliged to respond to this entry! It's nearing winter over there in NZ but I get the impression that the decay of autumn is setting in here over here for me. For a start it's not what would you call warm. Recent events have also added to that. They say spring is a season of rebirth yet I think awareness of your own life becomes the most acute during winter. In summer, you can set yourself to cruise control. The heat of the sun, the holiday spirit and the thought that anything is possible make you less introspective. In winter, however, you're up against the elements, the cold, and the feeling that you're restricted in what you can do. You spend more time indoors and seem to have more time on your hands for reflection. I've always loathed autumn. Not warm enough for going to the beach and not enough snow for skiing or boarding. There are some beautiful colours down in Central Otago in autumn - Arrowtown springs to mind - but to me it's a quiet time. The hustle of Wanaka only starts with the opening of the ski fields. You may well appreciate more the current calm and tranquility. You might get the feeling in winter that there are unwelcome intruders in your town. |
| swimmer
responded:
SKIN TO SKIN |
| Monday, May 02, 2005
Suspend your disbelief. |
| There's a new series of Dr Who. I loved Dr Who as a kid. I recall being totally terrified by it too. It makes me think about, even with the slickness and 'realism' of visual media these days, nothing has ever scared me as much since. It was the ideas that scared me much more than the realism of it. I don't think I needed to be convinced that yet another English quarry was actually a barren planet in another galaxy. I was scared because it introduced me to new thoughts and ideas and challenged my thinking in ways that drew me to realise that nothing is as sure as it first appears. It was a feat of the imagination. And it was unreal too. That was half the point. I think Dr Who made me a critical thinker. It taught me about irony. Inconclusiveness.. The ineffable I've had a thirst for these things ever since. I like that the writer (and executive producer) of the new Dr Who series is also the writer of the UK original of the Queer as Folk series too. I like that the links between those shows are not as tenuous as only residing in me. I feel part of something. Escapism always was a delicious luxury for me. And perhaps for so many others too. If the world you live in isn't always that good to you, you have the facility of the imagination to take yourself away. Ultimately, after developing and then using that same imagination, you can re-create your world to match your own vision. I do that. I wonder if it would do me good to write on here what my life was like when I was a teenager? And what I have done to recreate it since? I wonder. |
| RECENTLY |
| ARCHIVES |
You can also read my old journal that I wrote in 2001 when I threw everything up in the air and did a road trip of New Zealand to help me make some decisions. |
| SUBSCRIBE: |
|
You can also subscribe to the RSS feed of this journal |
| JOURNALS I READ: |