Kafez is my new blog.

Kafez is my new blog.

If you read me, could you please switch your bookmarks to

If you read me, could you please switch your bookmarks to Kafez. It is my new blog.
Quitting this one.

Thanks.

I'll write tomorrow. However, judging from a few of the

I'll write tomorrow.

However, judging from a few of the comments (not all) that come in even from those who have known me for awhile, it's quite disappointing to see that not many understand my love for travel and freedom...the heart of a free spirit, whom many have lost through the rigmarole of everyday living. For some reason, my destiny was different and swung around in the face of one crisis after another to give me at long stretched points, the hedonism I have always wanted and worked industriously to achieve. This in unexpected ways not known even to me beforehand as unexpected opportunities strike up.
At the risk of explaining myself or continuing to breed resentment even amongst those I thought would be pleased for me; at least at the risk of this tantrum, I'm deciding now whether it would be wiser just to say nothing at all. Or maybe I will just start to describe my way of life under another name (not my real one this time) somewhere else.

The BBC came looking for me on my blog today. My pen name is

The BBC came looking for me on my blog today. My pen name is rare. But there really was nothing to look for. :-)

It's a cold summer still at the moment. If a season can be avidly described in this way, Dublin has lost the sun after only about 3 days.

I love Dublin as much as I loved Melbourne which was as much as I loved London. Splinters of my heart are everywhere and too numerous for me to gather everything together. My heart glints in the sunlight and it glints in the rain. It's chilly today.


When you know a place well enough to make it your own, the cafes remember you and the bookshops you always frequent remember you, the cinemas and theatres remember you ... the people who make your life happen remember you and your name basks with the morning bliss. When the sun hears your name being called, it probes your shoulder with its rays and waits for you to swing around. When you know a place well enough, it will always stay the morning wherever you are.

I'll be able to able to write properly once I collect my laptop tomorrow afternoon. Yes, it was only a minor problem. My laptop throws a tantrum every few months.

till then.
For the moment, it really is chilly today.

I'm sorry I'm not able to post properly as my computer will

I'm sorry I'm not able to post properly as my computer will only be fixed in a day or 2. I'll be flying to East Africa next week and not this. For the moment, life is very good. I'm reading a lot - the only time I have is late nights and I seem to get by well on about 6 hours sleep. As a freelance writer, my time is my own. Also, the one beauty about having your own flat is that well, you can do what you jolly well like in it with regards to tv, music, snacks and all sorts without worrying about annoying someone else. I'm quite excited. I've cut down on the experimentation with cooking as I'm often running about here and there. Also, no more buying of potted plants for the moment where I have taken to growing my own herbs and vegetables. Domesticity is lessening. My mind has simply switched gear. What I plan to do is to take my half-finished stories to Africa with me so I can recapture once more the authenticy, flavour and sounds of my favourite land. I'm especially remembering the Indian Ocean famous for its wildness and can't wait to be poking around the bookshops I recall so well. How did I get to this sort of bliss? I think just live in the present, in the moment, look at the roads ahead and not behind - unless for a little introspection now and then. But when living in the moment, rely on passions even when the going gets tough and don't abandon a lifelong dream ever. Dullness in anything is fatal.

I'll write an updated post tomorrow, friends and readers. My

I'll write an updated post tomorrow, friends and readers. My laptop is at the computer repair shop at the moment (perfect timing) and I am unable to visit anyone or answer comments in the way I would like to, at the moment. So be patient Nicky. I'm going to look up your email and send you a letter especially and you too, Ray. And GB. And Jen. :-)
Tomorrow, I'll catch up with everyone.
I'm on the brink of an adventure with my impending trip to East Africa to look up memorable haunts, so I don't need no wine to make me feel heady right now.
I'm travelling alone and deliberately holding on to a timetable where I won't know where I'm going to be from one day to the next. But of course, a specific lodge will be my base and someone will always know where I am. This is the way I live my life and even while playing houses in dreamy surreal Dublin, I need this thrill of danger to keep me completely happy. But then I was always as I said a bohemian traveller and free spirit! I'll still keep this blog going while in Africa although sporadically depending on internet facilities.
More tomorrow.

I'm still going slow on my blog posts as my travelling plans

I'm still going slow on my blog posts as my travelling plans are occupying a lot of my thoughts and time. I should be on the plane to Africa by Friday next week. It's exciting and daunting at the same time. Everything is a bit stressed out at the moment. Injections, visas, lodging, friends, transport, the game parks, things like that...
But it will all finally come together as always. More later. Thanks for your comments Nicky, Ray & GB. Nicky, I'll tell you more in a bit. Not able to visit at the moment but will in a couple of days.

I have been a little slow with my blog posts of late because of

I have been a little slow with my blog posts of late because of things in my mind that I have to sort out for Africa. But I'll keep going. The only thing is that I may have to open a new blog on either a different Blogger account (new email) or else a Wordpress as Technorati has messed up my links and also doesn't display my posts as it would do for other blogs. As my links increase, Technorati keeps reducing the number so I'm going to be zero links in no time and that is definitely unfair. So I thought I'd start with a new blog and reopen a new Technorati account. But of course when that happens, I'll let you know.

After the initial excitement, practicalities will take over and I suppose I just want to go with as I said, a very light clothes luggage and a few engrossing reads. I will choose my books in Ireland. For some reason, I hardly buy airport novels and am quite happy with the newspapers on the plane because I'll always have my favourite titles. And I'm often as I'm ashamed to say, glued to the telly. I hardly ever sleep in planes either.

Yes, lately, there' s been a lot of reflection and introspection about things and people gone. Sometimes, I may suddenly remember a friend, a happy childhood episode or look back at a regrettable incident with misgiving. And then I remember too, all the great gulfs in between in between a chasm of defeat, grief or resignation. But I'll talk more about this later.

I can't even focuss on any theatre performances and all that. I keep thinking that when I come back, I'll join a writing group properly, go to more live poetry, publish something, be active in theatre and all that. But let's see...
Travel one one's own I find, is a good way to measure life's present depths and to gauge its further mix of rich raw ingredients for a destiny well told. Such meditative reflection tends to force itself on me at odd points, closer to the date and with no conscious protest on my part, sufficient to dispel this Holy Grail.

I am at a sudden phase in my life when I am thinking of things

I am at a sudden phase in my life when I am thinking of things forgotten, gone and lost.

Playboy by Suzan Abrams The fisherman, the farmhand and the

Playboy

by Suzan Abrams

The fisherman, the farmhand and the flower in her band,
they all served to romance up their land of silvered sand.

He would have married her if he could,
the temptation of frolic for an ill-spent youth.

But her smile so dashing sent men's hearts a-crashing,
like boulders that led waves up, a giant fountain shoot.

All day long they skipped on the beach with the swing of dance,
a banana leaf for a serenade and he would grab his sudden chance.

A ring on her finger in the sunlight yonder,
would he remember to kneel, cry and duly surrender?

But he sang and he smiled and he teased her waiting heart,
as she dialled the cone shell for the sea that cried, they kiss and part.

Still, they caressed and they waltzed, like lanterns in the night,
and her desire soon awakened like sunrise from the light.

Could a playboy be reborn in the self-effacing dawn?
Soon he was gone and her heart lay sodden, shocked and torn.