Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Tick Tock.

Confession. I've always been a hippy. Always worn ripped jeans, scorned working for the man, carried a crystal or a rock in my pocket, fought the machine with passion and heart and wrath, chosen creativity over security. But oh boy, this time I've done it. I've really done it. I'm done for.


In seven weeks I walk away from this office and I go to the airport and I leave. I leave with a very small amount of money, a tonne of gigs in both Europe and the US, and absolutely no idea what I'm going to do next. I've left my house, the only Home I've ever had. I've been staying at a wonderful friends house. I've given notice to my work and told them I don't want to come back. Nothing exists anymore. I have no things. I am selling my pictures, my paintings, throwing away most of my clothes, leaving my books, well, leaving my books is difficult, but I'm leaving them somewhere safe. Somewhere appreciated. And then, that's that. A cloud. A current. A disappearer.

The time I spent in Paris with Meegs meant so much to me. I was in the company of someone who inspired me. Someone who had followed their dream no matter how difficult the challenges she was presented with. And she never gave up, and she was not false. Just human. And driven. Fucking beautiful. It lit something in me which is yet to dim. And another friend in Paris, my sister's ex-girlfriend, who had left Australia all those years ago with barely a cent, and traveled and traveled...the simple words she gave me as gift - "don't worry about the How, Matty, just think about the What..."

Not many people know what the What is. Life can be dizzying. Life can mean Love or Work or Pain or all of the above. So it is with humility that I thank the Universe for giving me my What. I may not be the best at it, or the most professional, but I can certainly say that I approach it with all the passion and determination I have and I leave nothing at home when I do it. It is, quite simply, everything to me.

So go, Hippy, fly. Count down these last days and smile at the joy of The Unknown to Come. Let loose the fear of being found and embrace, embrace, embrace - all that is gifted. The Lost Generation is not dead. The desire to fly, to live and experience is greater now, when everything is built to keep us checked, terrified, brought together to feel ever more alone. It's an information age, when everything we need is at out fingertips - and it is this I revolt against - for I desire nothing more, than to find out for myself what the world truly is.

Make the one wish, that you never believed.
Find the one place, where you want to be.

Don't talk.
Don't listen.
Just do.

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