As I take the time to write this note I wonder and marvel at how time has flown. It was just over 4 years ago when I first began this journal. At the time I could never have imagined (even if I secretly hoped) that it could bring me the success and adulation that it has. And for that I am forever grateful to the readers who have inspired me, challenged me and provoked me to really wonder about the way of the world.
To say that I am continuously marveled, confused, disillusioned (some things are just so sad and toxic) and at the same time inspired, impassioned and encouraged to wake up every morning and have a slog is an understatement. As a writer the real gift isn’t just the art and act of writing it’s also the art of giving and embracing the world around you. And for this I am grateful and can thank my own evolution.
As I sat this morning at my usual cafe having my token cafe latte and croissant an old man visibly worse for wear approached me hawking socks. ‘
‘Only three dollars,’ he countered ‘Please, I need medicine.’
And as I sat there slowly drinking my latte, smoking my habitual Marlboro light (yes kids, Scallywag needs to give smoking up) wondering what I would write I was intensely moved by this man. Where was his family I wondered, his friends, how had he arrived at this place? But then I crossed those thoughts out and just plunked him a $20 note and took the socks. The look of gratitude he gave me just killed me. People kill me everyday. I am really too sensitive for the world and even if you think I am this brash monster writer (and I am on stage) I am really this vulnerable sensitive human being who just yearns to vividly feel life and the world. And really that man made my day, he made me feel wonderful and really the gift I gave him (so little really) was a gift that I made to myself.
In the end I want to reaffirm my love and respect for all the readers, you have in some way challenged me and encouraged me to live out this beaten off the path journey. Being a writer, artist or whatever you want to call it isn’t for everybody, but it is for me after many years of personally denying my essence and paying a heavy price for the self denial.
And what can I say, there are some of you who will read this, you know whom you are who have picked me up during my lowest moments of my journey (Scallywag has had a few rough moments being the indie publisher that he is) who have given me the courage and support to continue being me and to love me but more importantly given me the courage to love you all back and to try to make a difference in this world.
Thank you for being there for me, please also be there for each other and most importantly be there for yourselves.
Merry Christmas and seasons holidays (cause I know not everyone celebrates Christmas, I grew up celebrating it on Bondi beach , Sydney, Australia).
Being human in this vast dark world is so hard but really what else is there for one to be….?
above image found here.