Cuttlebone

A sandbar that looks a little like cuttlebone, hence the title.

I think I captured the water really well in this one. It feels like it’s moving and varied, and the texture is pleasing to me. Likewise, I also think I captured the sandbar really well. I like how it has a different texture to the water, and has signs of how the water has shaped it.

I hope you enjoy.

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Having a Sit

Because, even after a hard day of pigeoning, a rock dove might feel the need to sit.

I hope you enjoy.

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A Trip West

I’d loaded everything into the car the night prior to cut down on time spent in the morning, and I’m not sure how much it paid off, but I do know I was in the car pretty quickly. I didn’t leave as early as I’d have liked – I’d adjusted my alarm the night prior to try and get more sleep – but I was on the road soon enough after waking. Aside from having to stop on a main road due to someone deciding to have their nose poking out onto it, it was a smooth drive to the m4.

The rest of the way to The Blue Mountains was as straightforward as it always is, and the road had some traffic, but was mostly quiet. From what I remember, there was some odd overtaking and a P plater speeding, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary.

I got to Katoomba, parked and headed to Hominy Bakery, where I’d made a request for some sourdough in advance. On the way I saw a long line of people waiting for a seafood store to open. It being Christmas Eve being the obvious reason, but I was still a little puzzled. Maybe the store runs out of food quickly. I noticed quite a few of the people were staring at their phones, and I wondered how many of them were from Sydney and moved to Katoomba.

I got to the bakery, got my bread, then headed back to the car to drive to Leura. Originally I’d planned to go to some lookouts before Hominy opened, but putting sleep first stopped that, and it was the right decision, too. I hadn’t had as much as I needed, but I’d had enough to be functional.

I drove to Leura, then dropped a loaf off at Andy’s place. I was also meant to be having coffee at his as I passed through, but he had to cancel due to needing sleep. I dropped the loaf off, sent him a message saying where it was, then went to have breakfast at Freudian Slip. Breakfast wasn’t much to say anything about as I didn’t order anything other than standards, and they were done well enough.

When leaving, I asked the counter staff if Freudian Slip would be open on Boxing Day. They advised it wouldn’t, I wished them a good holiday period, then continued on my drive.

I’d decided to go a route I hadn’t before. It was through a valley and would eventually lead to Jenolan Caves Road, so long as I took the right turns. I’d gone part of the way before, a month or so prior, and turned around when I realised that it was not where I wanted to go at the time and I didn’t know how far it went. So this time I was going to go.

The road became unpaved and flat, and eventually grew a little rough, but nothing unmanageable. Just had to stay on it and keep going. The drive down was pretty smooth, and enclosed by thick bushland, which opened up significantly to cleared land when closer to the flatter, open area. However, the road remained predominantly sided by trees, and so whilst the space beyond was visible, there was still a pleasing shade on the road.

I made the turn I was meant to and ended up at a farm area with no way through. I stopped, thought to myself for a minute or so, saw some people working, got out of the car and walked over to where they were. I called out “Good morning” or “Hello”, something along those lines, and someone I didn’t see, an older, bearded person, approached me.

“It seems I’ve made a fool out of myself and gone the wrong way.”

“Where you looking to go?”

“Megalong Valley.”

“Yeah you’ve gone the wrong way, that’s over that way.” (pointing southward)

“Sorry, I mean toward, um, Bathurst. Recently saw there’s a way through here, but apparently there’s not.”

“Yeah, Apple Maps or Google Maps says there is. Not sure which one.”

“Oh, I’ve done a lot of driving around The Mountains and hadn’t gone down here before. Figured it’d make for a nice drive. Guessing this happens a lot.”

“Yeah. We get people coming down here about once a week looking for the road through.”

“Oh well. Cheers for letting me know, hope you have a good day.”

“You too.”

They walked away and so did I, and I was back in the car, driving back up to town, hoping no vehicles came as there was room only for one for most of that bit of road, until returning to an open gate, where the road widened a little. No issues.

I’d eaten a banana on the drive and had my peel sitting on the front passenger seat. On the way down I’d passed some wheelie bins so I knew I could put the peel in one of them. They weren’t far away, I reached them, and I noticed that they were labelled for a property that wasn’t there. Whilst writing this I’ve realised that it might be for a house further up with a bit of a driveway, but even so I’m not sure why the bins were where they were sitting. Maybe space. I don’t know. Anyway, I threw out my peel, stretched my legs a bit, then continued on. I was almost fully run off the road by a driver who refused to move at one point, but I got back to the highway without further issue.

My next stop was at Mount York. I knew there was a bathroom there and I needed it. Mount York isn’t far from Blackheath, but by the time I got there it was somewhere around ten in the morning. I was hoping to be in Bathurst by this point, but I’d been enjoying the time taken so I wasn’t too fussed. I’d messaged Ewe earlier to let him know I’d be there by midday, and it still looked like that would be the case.

Whenever I’m somewhere away from the city, I get angry when I hear a lot of people loudly talking or blasting music in a quiet space. I get why people do that, but at the same time I don’t. I don’t understand why you’d want to bring the city with you when you get away from it. I mention this as, when I arrived at Mount York and got out of the car, I could hear someone blasting a four four electronic beat that didn’t change for minutes on end. I saw quite a few campers set up in the area as there’s some camping space there, and I didn’t understand why, in the morning, someone decided to blast music. In a space where you get the sounds of the landscape. I don’t get why you’d be fine to ruin that, especially with a really monotonous bit of dance music. At the very least, pick something that offers something. If you’re gonna show that you can’t let go of the noise of the city, then at least do it tastefully.

So I went to the bathroom, took some photos and left. There are spots on Mount York I want to go to, but for this visit I wanted to keep it a bit shorter, and I also felt put off. And so back to the highway I went, then down Victoria Pass and, consequently, into the plains after The Blue Mountains. The highway had finished being redeveloped since I was last in this spot, earlier in 2025. Or at least, it appeared to have finished being redeveloped. It felt like slower driving and I’m fairly certain it wasn’t, and it was strange, too. But that didn’t matter as I was getting closer.

There was a café along Jenolan Caves Road that I’d passed a few times. I wanted to stop there in the past but never did, and so this time I decided I would. It was still early enough in the day for a detour and I was still on track to get to Bathurst by midday. So I left the highway where Jenolan Caves Road started, and I drove until I came to what I thought was an interesting field, as well as an interesting tree.

I stopped and took photos for a while, and I thought about what I wanted to do. I could get to Bathurst from where I was by going via Duckmaloi Road. I hadn’t been that way to Bathurst before and I didn’t know how long it would take.

I didn’t return to the highway.

I sent Ewe a message advising I’d be a bit later than intended, then resumed driving down Jenolan Caves Road. Ewe called me soon after I started driving so I pulled over as soon as I could, which put me in another nice spot to take photos, which I did. I told him my plan, told him I’d see him as soon as I got there, took my photos, then drove on to the café I wanted to stop at, which was closed. Annoying, but understandable.

I reached Duckmaloi Road and continued on. I’d been down some of it before, but only for about five, ten minutes. I hadn’t gone further and all I knew to expect was road, and road was what I got. I also had an easy time with the drive, though maybe it’s more accurate to say that I had a relaxed and comfortable time. Great scenery, both open and closed. The road would rise, crest and go for a while, following the lines of the hills, and it’d descend and there’d be widely open space, and it was great to witness. It was great to experience.

I saw cows, and in one particular field there was a herd, with one on a rock. I figured that if I headed back that way I’d get a photo of it.

The drive was great, and the music I had playing fit well, and I felt cool and boring and it didn’t matter, and I kept going, and eventually I reached Oberon.

I hadn’t been in Oberon since the nineties, when I was a kid. I don’t remember the details, but I remember being there with my dad. I think we were mainly passing through. We may have stopped for a brief break, but that’s the most I can remember. Coming back as an adult was a different experience, mainly because I couldn’t remember what it was like when I was last there. The place was quiet and busy, and it felt small. It is small, but it felt small.

I stopped as I wanted to grab coffee and I needed to use the bathroom, and when heading to the bathroom I saw this artwork of a gnome riding a wombat. Curious. I was also able to get a coffee that wasn’t good, but wasn’t awful. It could’ve been much better, but it could’ve been worse. Ultimately, it gave me some rest, and that was more important than the coffee’s quality.

I soon was back on the road and once more there were few cars around. I’d seem some here and there on the way to Oberon, but my drive was mostly a solitary affair and I very much preferred it that way. For most of the rest of the distance to Bathurst, however, it wasn’t, and that was by my own hand.

I saw a P plater in a ute rapidly catching up to me, and naturally I saw them overtake me at the first opportunity they could. I was going the speed limit and they were going well over it. So I decided to follow them. I wanted to see how fast they were going. It all worked out fine, but this was an incredibly bad idea. It’s important to stress how dangerous speeding is. Driving a motorised vehicle is already a dangerous thing. Making it more so is foolish. Few are the circumstances where speeding is acceptable, and this was not one of them.

The P plater was going quite fast, and they also had trouble staying in their lane, which was especially worrisome when they almost went into the start of a dividing barrier which they missed by metres. They were fortunate that they didn’t have to deal with oncoming traffic at any bends, and they were fortunate for the times they managed to avoid driving off the road, too.

Eventually they got stuck behind someone, and once I had the opportunity, I overtook both. The P plater proceeded to overtake when they no longer could, but they stayed at the speed limit at that point. They eventually ended up stuck behind another driver who was going slow, after I overtook that one, which wasn’t far out from Bathurst.

And so I reached Bathurst and took the turns I needed to take to get to Ewe and Anna’s, and I was there with enough time for Ewe and I to get lunch.

I came to the front door, Ewe answered, we hugged, got stuff out of my car and brought it in, then we headed off to a pub. It was a direct walk and we were talking and enjoying it, and the weather was pleasantly warm, with enough open sky adding to that pleasantness. We walked into the bistro area of the pub we walked to, went in and it was quiet. The lights were off and it was a sudden change in atmosphere. Quiet, still, dark. Full and empty, and it felt like being stoned. A sudden, imperceptible dilation of time as we moved through this space, among other things. It felt more so when we went through the bistro and into the pub area, which was well-lit and inviting, and had people in there.

We went through to exit and then walked to another pub that was doing food. We ordered, and ate, and we talked about things that were meaningless and meaningful, and once done we headed back. I can’t remember if Anna was back yet, or if she got back shortly after us, but I saw her and gave her a big hug. It was not long until Ewe went to work, and I told Anna everything that had happened.

I’d given Anna some details about the breakup earlier in the year, but I never felt right about telling her everything. I felt that if I had, I’d be dragging her down, emotionally, which was a silly thing to think as Anna is a pretty strong and understanding person. So I gave her the details about what happened, the stupid things I said at the time, my concerns about seeing someone new, and what I liked that was now happening. It was a lot of information, but Anna listened and I was glad she did. And eventually she also left as she had a dinner to go to, and I had the house to myself.

I spent my time wanting to get either writing or photo processing done, and instead I checked out a bit, annoyed the cats and dog a little, then left to pick up Ewe when he finished work. I picked him up and we went back, and shortly after we returned we took the dog for a walk. I figured we’d just go to the park nearby, but we ended up walking a while, or at least it felt like a while. More meaningless and meaningful conversation that went in all sorts of directions before we headed back and went to sleep.

Come the morning and it’s Christmas. Ewe and I got up early and we went to Mount Panorama. We took the dog with us and went walking, and we walked this meandering loop that went down the mountain part of the way, which meant we had to walk back up, and that was a tough walk. And it was cold, but not cold enough to warrant multiple layers for long. The dog handled it well. Ewe and I, less so. But we managed.

As we walked around (in easier walking areas) I talked about how awesome it was that we’d come as far in life as we had, that we’d gotten to that point. And to me it is as we’d both been through a lot of things and a lot of pressure, and maybe we didn’t come out fine or perfect, but we still got through some dark and intense situations, and we kept going. We had some fun times that we’re happy are in the past and not things we’re still doing, and we had a falling out and repaired our friendship. We’re better people now, and healthier people, and it’s great that we’ve survived what we have.

And we kept walking, but there came a point where we decided to head back. We had to do some preparation for people coming around, and that happened smoothly enough, and people eventually came around. There was the giving of the gifts, the consumption of the food, and the being wrecked from eating too much, leading to me sitting on the couch and tuning out whilst everyone else enjoyed themselves. Ewe went for a nap at one point, and eventually I had to go sit outside for a while.

My step-mum called and we talked a bit. I updated her on life things as did she, and I talked about the drive to Bathurst and about how I was journeying, because whilst it wasn’t over significantly long distances, the driving I was doing was very much a journey. I was spending a god bit of time on the road, and if I didn’t have to come back home, once I’d left Ewe and Anna’s I would’ve gone west and further into unfamiliar places.

My step-mum talked about how it was journeying, and told me about the last time she drove an alpine highway in New Zealand. She’s from NZ, and she told me about how this highway is about three-and-a-half hours and most of the time she’d driven it was to get across the mountains but the last time she did she took around seven hours to do it as she kept stopping to take in the scenery.

After recommending Supertramp’s “Take the Long Way Home” (followed by recommending Supertramp in general), we said our goodbyes. Soon after, Ewe came out and we talked a bit, and about an hour after that we left the Christmas celebrations. We wanted to go for a swim in a river that was about thirty minutes away, so that’s what we did. And so we headed off to the river, and we saw a snake on the road on the way, but other than that (and the massive scenery), the drive was uneventful.

The river we went to was fine enough. It was pretty calm and shallow in most parts, and I slowly spun in a spot for a bit. We wandered a bit and came back, and it was just nice and relaxing, and maybe that’s what we needed at that point, because we were away enough from people, and we had a sense of quiet that we were disrupting for ourselves in bits. Just pleasant and refreshing.

When looking up the river, it almost felt like not being in Australia. The vegetation felt lush and helped make the river feel cool, creating enough overhang and framing to feel like it keeps warm air away. It made wandering around the river feel a bit different than if the vegetation was more typically scraggly, but that also had to do with the river not being as deep as it likely is at other times. But overall, it was good. It was worth going there.

We drove back with a stop along the way to look over the plains, and the snake gone, and some sheep at the side of the road. We were driving back around sunset, and due to my unwillingness to stop at some points due to the spots not being optimal, we missed the strongest parts but that was okay. That was fine because we still saw it, and it was nice to have on the drive back. It was nice to have as we got back to Bathurst to relax and eventually go to sleep.

Ewe and I woke early in the morning. We talked about things that were meaningless and meaningful, Ewe made me coffee, and after some time I said my goodbyes to Ewe and Anna, then left. I didn’t want to get caught in holiday traffic and figured I could make good time leaving earlier rather than later.

I’d decided to go back via Oberon and Duckmaloi Road as, whilst the highway took less time, it was only around thirty or forty minutes less and I wanted to take in different, less familiar scenery again. I took a few stops and took in the scenery, and once again was mostly alone for the drive.

During those stops I thought about how much calmer and relaxed I was driving along with a sense of space. I’d like to believe that I drive well enough, though still have a good deal to learn and improve on. During the drive to Bathurst and the one back, however, I was driving far better than usual. I thought about how it was likely due to being less stressed about other vehicles around me. I realised my thoughts were also clearer and, whilst I didn’t have as much sleep as I’d have liked, I was not feeling it much.

When I’m away from the city, I generally find that I’m more functional. This is especially so when I’ve more space to myself and more quiet. I’m more alert but I’m not stressed, and I seem to handle stressful situations better, too. I came to a realisation whilst looking over most cleared land for agricultural purposes – these great, open spaces full of everything in the world of these areas as well as full of emptiness – that, whilst I do need a place to return to, I function better when journeying. I am healthier when I am in motion, and I need to work toward being in motion more often than I’ve been in the past.

This was an important realisation, but it wasn’t a big one, or it didn’t feel a big one. I think it had been coming to me for a long time in pieces, and it took time for me to see how those pieces fit together. It took time to understand.

Before reaching Oberon, I saw what I think was a shed with some anti-wind farm signs. At first I thought about how wind farms are pointless and a bit unintelligent to protest. I then thought about the worldview that someone in that area likely has, and what they might and might not be exposed to, and I thought about the importance of educational outreach. The importance of critical thinking. For a few people in regional areas, the landscape is as part of their identity as their sense of community. Lack of information combined with anything that might forcibly alter things in a way that creates a permanent presence might lead to unthinking resistance. Wind farms are a good thing to have, and I feel that people pushing against them likely comes from failure to attempt genuine communication and failure to genuinely understand the concerns and where those are coming from.

Oberon was quieter than on Christmas Eve, and aside from some teenagers and someone watching me from their car before they left, there were maybe three or four others around. It was a quick bathroom stop for me before I continued on, and I was happy to keep it that way. I still had a bit of driving to do before getting back to Sydney.

I saw no cow on a rock, but I did eventually get stuck behind someone driving slow, which was quite frustrating. It was even more frustrating when the speed limit dropped in places but they didn’t slow down and kept going at the speed they were going. I saw signs indicating that the café I wanted to stop at previously was open, so I stopped there just to give myself some distance between myself and the slow driver (and the other cars they were holding up). The café was still closed. I got back in the car and continued on, and eventually caught up to the slow driver again. I overtook them when I got back to the highway.

The rest of the drive was quite uneventful. I hit traffic around Blackheath and broke free of it somewhere around Katoomba or Leura. I ended up in Leura to get breakfast and got a foccacia sandwich and coffee at some place. Both were nothing to write home about and both were overpriced. The drive from there had traffic I was used to dealing with on the drive home from The Mountains, and the music that played, liked the trip out west and the drive back, was for the most part fitting and when it wasn’t, was at least satisfying to have playing.

It’s difficult for me to write about the trip in a succinct manner as right now my thoughts are scattered. I don’t have the kind of clarity that I have when away from the city. I hope I got across the feel of it. I hope some of that came across, because it was a journey, and it was an experience, and I desire to be on the road again, further from Sydney and away from where is familiar to me. Away from traffic, and with my thoughts and the space around me, giving me the room to think and the time to appreciate, as I head to wherever I am going.

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Coming to a Bend

On the way back to Sydney from Bathurst I stopped to take photos three times, and they were all before reaching Oberon. This was one of the spots, and it gave a bit of quiet and time to think about things, and the area and its residents. I thought about the landscape and I thought about the road, and how to capture it in a way that I felt worked.

This could’ve been better. I feel like I may have left too much length of the road in the frame when I captured it, but maybe it works as some sort of indicator of length of time spent driving from place to place, or something.

This is my submission into the three hundred-and-eightieth Lens-Artists Photo Challenge. The theme for this one is “What’s Around the Corner“.

What’s around this bend is more of the same, though maybe some more properties. However, that’s not necessarily known until it’s driven along and more is revealed, though it certainly can be anticipated.

The host of the Lens-Artists challenges cycles weekly between the following people:

Tina

Patti

Ann-Christine aka Leya

John Steiner

Sofia Alves

Anne Sandler

Egídio

Ritva

Beth

This one is curated by Anne. The next one is curated by Ritva.

I recommend joining the community and participating in the challenges. They’re pretty straightforward, allow room for interpretation, and provide a good way to think about photography in general. If not, however, then at the very least you should check out what others submit to the challenges.

I hope you enjoy.

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A Trip North

It started with waking up early morning, getting ready and heading off. The drive up north was uneventful, though it was interesting, and at least pleasant enough. Left whilst still dark, arrived at the destination in the afternoon. Normally it doesn’t take as long as it took for us to get there, but we took our time. We stopped off at a few places. Managed to avoid holiday traffic, too.

We drove for ten minutes from home, got petrol, then continued on. The songs on the playlist were timed well, and overall it was an easy drive. Low traffic which was great as it meant we weren’t getting stuck in holiday traffic.

We stopped at Ampol Foodary in Wyong, along the M1. It’s a large area with a few places to eat, and I’ve spent a good bit of time there over the years, mainly due to field trips to Smiths Lake. It’s an interesting space and it’s a convenient space, but there’s something about it that doesn’t feel as welcoming as perhaps it should. It’s a place to stop and rest and recover, and refill a vehicle if need be, so you don’t want to be spending a whole day there (unless you do want to), but there’s something about a smaller place that you can stop off and unwind at that feels warmer and more pleasant that sometimes you desire. But during the stop off, we weren’t thinking about that, or at least I wasn’t. I can’t comment on what the person I’m seeing was thinking.

This stop off was to give ourselves a brief break before heading into Newcastle, and it paid off. Got coffee and it wasn’t bad, which was disappointing. It felt like coffee that was consistent, but it was machine coffee. That’s not bad, but it lacked the excitement of consistent coffee from a barista. It had this sort of bland, agreeable taste and consistency which really doesn’t leave much to complain about and it was being what it needed to be, which was bland and agreeable. It lacked the qualities of a good coffee, or a bad roadside coffee that warrants more than a neutral, flat reaction.

We took some photos then drove off to Newcastle. I figured we’d get stuck in holiday traffic at this point as there were far more cars around leaving than there were entering the foodary, but we didn’t have to deal with much and so we had a pretty easy drive.

Newcastle was as it has always been; a place I’m told is improving and getting livelier, and a place that remains, seemingly, in a perpetual state of dying. I can’t deny that my view is probably heavily skewed. You do get quiet areas in Sydney, but it is much busier than Newcastle. I can’t deny that it’s likely that the times I’ve been to Newcastle, it hasn’t been at the right time. I also can’t deny that Newcastle never seems to be developing the liveliness I’ve been advised it is developing. It still is, at the least, a pleasant place to go through sometimes.

We stopped for breakfast near the beach and it was good food. Went off to check a breakwater after, but the sky was too open and it was too hot, so we used the bathrooms and then headed back to the highway. More traffic leaving Newcastle, but nothing bad, and soon we were heading north once more, and the traffic eased up, too.

We first drove to Seal Rocks, a small village. The drive along that bit of highway up to where Seal Rocks is is a stretch I find boring. Not all road needs to be interesting, but I do find that particular stretch particularly un, which doesn’t help make the drive any easier. I’m glad I was doing this drive with the person I’m seeing as we were talking for it. We  were conversing and listening to music, and it took away from the tedium of that stretch.

We took our exit and stopped off at Smiths Lake first. I wanted to show where I’d gone for field trips, but there were people there and they seemed weary, so we left quickly and continued on. Seal Rocks was not far, thankfully, and so we got there soon after. The plan was to go to the lighthouse there, then go for a swim. On one side of the beach it looked like the water wasn’t the best, and as we drove past, we could see everyone being on the other side. That was fine; we’d just go for a swim where everyone else was.

We parked and I remember the person I’m seeing feeling a bit out of it. Decided we’d take the walk to the lighthouse casually and, if they felt it was too much, we’d stop and go back to the car. We made it to the lighthouse without issue beyond feeling a bit puffed from the steep ascent. Appreciated the wide, open view, enclosed by the vegetation and the sky. You know, a certain beauty that is not sublime, but is getting there.

And down we went, and back to the car, and we decided not to swim in part due to the time and in part not wanting to run the risk with the water. So we left Seal Rocks and went to Hawks Nest.

On the drive out we saw a bird on the road and I couldn’t move out of the way for it due to oncoming traffic. Went right over it, it didn’t hit the car, but saw it down in the rear view mirror. I felt pretty bad about it, buy I could only hope that wind caused it to fall over. It wasn’t a great thing to see. Neither was the smoke plume when we were back on the highway. Thankfully not something to worry too much about.

We reached where we were staying, set our stuff down, went out to eat, ate, then drove off to a spot to catch the sunset. We parked, got our gear ready and then charged up a sand dune. As we did, some kids asked if we cared if they were blowing stuff up. I said that so long as they were careful, I didn’t. I’d rather they be safe about it if they’re going to do it, because who knows how much fun they can have where they are.

I got ahead of the person I’m seeing and moved as quickly as I could up the dune, as I could see the strong colour in the sky and I made sure to get a few photos, and it was glorious. Strong red, as though a final push; a final display to show that there was still something left before fading away. The bit of ocean that was visible appeared purple, and the dunes themselves seemed smooth and silky. It was wonderful to behold.

I started getting gut pain and it was growing bad. The person I’m seeing asked if I was okay and I told them what was happening. I said we should stay until they got the photos they wanted. At one point I let off a horrendous-smelling fart and I felt much better after that, but we didn’t stay for much longer as we missed a good bit of the sunset, and also just in case my gut started getting bad again.

We got back to the car, and it wasn’t long before I started feeling my gut turning to pain again. We drove back at the limit, but I wanted very much to speed. Still, thanks to my gut we got to see hundreds of bats flying above us, crossing over the road, and it was an amazing sight. All these wings and bodies moving to wherever was net for them, filling the sky… just great stuff.

We got back to where we were staying, I managed to park the car well without thinking much about my parking; I needed to use the toilet. And so we got to our room and I took to the toilet. Whilst at the Ampol, I bought some sugar free snacks. I realised on the following day that that’s what caused my need to use the toilet. Ate too many. It was deeply unpleasant.

Anyway, the following day we went to the beach nearby, floated around a bit, then headed back to where we were staying. The plan was to head out to the dunes again, which we did do. It was a hot day, and the sun was out in a mostly clear sky. Going up was not a fun experience due to how much heat the sand had absorbed, but when we were back on top and walking around, the sand was much more bearable. The sun wasn’t quite, however.

So we walked around a bit and it almost felt like we were walking forever. Of course we weren’t, and we could see easily where we had been, but the space was so still and calm that it almost felt that way. Still, calm and open, and rolling hills of sand, silky, smooth, vague and specific all at once.

We came across a bit of vegetation that looked like an island among the sand, and it offered some reprieve, but we didn’t hang around for much longer. Too much sun in an open space, and we had sunscreen but it was still unpleasant. Still, it was worthwhile. We saw some currawongs land on the dunes and do their brief wander; we watched the shadows of clouds pass over and rapidly change the feel of the area, only for the area to snap back soon after.

Back home and back out for dinner again before back to the Dunes for the sunset once more, and there wasn’t much of one, but it was much cooler and much easier to walk around, and plenty of photos were taken. We headed back to our room to sleep.

The following day we bought breakfast before heading back down the road we drove to get to the dunes. This is a bit of road I’d been down plenty of times, but I’d never gone the whole way. It was always to go to the Dunes. This day was the first time I’d go further along the road.

We drove the whole length and passed through bushier areas that felt like forest, with trees hanging over the road, creating shadowed patterns over where their branches grew. We drove through space where the road was not enclosed from above, and we kept on driving until we reached the end, where a vehicle ferry was. Or rather, where a vehicle ferry would stop to take on vehicles as it was on the other side of the river. So we parked and we ate, and we took in the view. It was warm and cool, and refreshing in a way. And the food was good, too, and it was just nice. There was the sound of human activity, of course, but everything felt quiet, and I felt myself relax more than I had during the previous days and all of 2025 up until that point.

And we walked around this pleasant space and took photos and looked at a few things, and we talked. We talked about what we were seeing and experiencing, and our plans for the rest of the day, and eventually we drove back, with a few stops to see what was around. We came across a beach and decided we’d swim there, and also in the lake on the other side of the road, and we drove back to where we were staying to rest before heading back out again.

We returned to the beach and we had it and the ocean to ourselves. The waves cycled between gentle and strong, and they followed and crashed against the form of the beach, which almost seemed to be repeating lazy crescents. There were some birds around at a distance, though they’d occasionally fly over the water, and the breeze was gentle. It was an overcast day, but at this point the weather was still pleasant enough, and everything really felt like ours to experience and no-one else’s.

We spent a bit of time in the water, until at one point I saw some of the birds flying around a specific area, about fifty, one hundred metres out from where we were. I don’t know the behaviour of seabirds well enough, but to me that was not a good sign, so we got out of the water soon after, walked back to the car, then headed to where we saw a good spot to go into the lake. We got there quickly enough, looked at the water, saw a foam that didn’t exactly look the cleanest, then headed back to the beach to take photos.

Eventually we headed on back to where we were staying and rested some more, before heading out to our last dinner for the trip. When I went with my ex, our last dinner was going to be at a golf club. I am not a fan of golf, but it seemed a good place to eat. We were unable to due to how busy it was, but thankfully when I went with the person I’m seeing, it was much quieter, and so we had no issue, and the food was good enough. It was satisfying.

There were plenty of other things we wanted to do but we didn’t have the time, and we didn’t get enough sleep to go see the sunrise before heading home. Still, we had enough time to get food, and the drive back was pretty smooth, even when we started dealing with traffic. We stopped at the Ampol Foodary on the way back, stretched our legs, and continued on. We talked about music and life, and the time we spent, and started thinking about the possibility of returning some time. It was a break we needed, and my talking about it in a matter-of-fact manner didn’t do it justice.

Hawks Nest is a small area, and it thankfully isn’t besieged by people all the time. Whilst there are attitudes there one wants to avoid, it’s a nice pocket of space and there are plenty of friendly people there, too. That you can get quiet time there easily enough is wonderful.

I dropped the person I’m seeing off at their place before heading home. It was a hot day and by the time I got back, I wanted to rest but there was not much rest to be had. I had to get my washing done so I’d have enough clothes for the following day, when I’d wake up early and drive to Bathurst.

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Two Thousand Words in Twenty Minutes: More words than necessary

Alright, second attempt and I’m already slowing down. This is not good, but I can do it. I can try to do it, and do it I will, so I’m doing it. I’m doing it; I’m doing the writing and the writing is being done, but maybe the writing is doing me and I merely think I am doing the writing. If that is indeed the case, then what am I to do? Where am I to go? There is nowhere but to the left and down, and sometimes up. Maybe to the right. It is difficult to discern during these troubling times, in which trouble is troubling and yet I’m yet to know what lies ahead. Yet.

That is a word. These are more words.

Yeah, this one is going to be a struggle, but what can I do? Sure, I could write something a bit more coherent, but if I do that, then what am I to do? I’ll have to throw my hands up and admit that I’ve lost, and if I’ve lost, then how can I win? How can I find my way back to the surface, where all the delicious delectables lie? I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, and this is a real conundrum.

Sometimes when I find myself in this kind of situation, I go on a journey. I go through a journey through memory and I see what comes forward. Today I would do that; however, I already have done that and there was nothing. My memory does not want to work and so I need to put in the work and I need to use the forbidden power of… imagination.

Yes, that is how dire things are.

I could write about real life in an imaginary way, but the thing is there’s been enough hurt in my life. I don’t want to write about that right now. I’d rather let those thoughts sit to the side and wait it out until they;re a bit more tempered. I want to leave that to the side and just spin things that are new, or old, and spin them in a way that reads fantastically. This space has been far too frequently about my personal life, anyway, and especially recently. I don’t want to do that right now. I just want to spin what comes forward and let it come forward, and then ride it out to wherever comes next, and then go there, and spin this whole new world that exists that is of my creation, and I have ideas! I have ideas and don’t let yourself be fooled into thinking otherwise, for they are ideas of the thought of variety. They have come to me as I have conjured them, and they are all mine and they are mine alone! Laughter here.

So anyway, I’m thinking about things and I’m thinking about my stomach, which is quite upset, and I want to know how I get the things forward. I want to know how I advance into this forbidden power of which I am so mercilessly possessed, for it is there but it has been locked away for far too long. Have I let go of my innocence and given myself a healthy dose of cynicism? Have I given myself to cynicism and pessimism far more than I initially thought? It is possible. It is possible that doing this for so long has been incredibly damaging to my ability to write, and if so, then I don’t know what to do with myself. I guess I find another way forward, or no way forward and just keep digging the spot that I am on, going down but going nowhere, and that would be an interesting exercise.

I think I’ve spoken about this before, but perhaps I am far too stuck in the rut to notice. Every time I think I dig away I end up at the same spot, and that is as good a reason as any to try and force my hand out, but sometimes the process needs to be gradual. Sometimes the process need not be beset by getting dumped, but you know. You do what you can when you can, where you can with what you can. And I am doing what I can. However, writing this is not indulging in imagination and therefore it is trash.

I have written more trash than I haven’t written trash. This is the condition in which I revel, and revel in it I do thusly. Is this good? Is this bad? I don’t know. I don’t care. I need to just get on with it, and getting on with it is a way with getting on with it. But I do need to keep working on progressing and learning, for if I don’t, then I am not growing. I know I can tap back into my imagination. I know that I can pull out what lies in there, and I know that I can find the cracks and break through the tedium to produce some truly legendary crap, but I can also break through the cracks and produce something that really is some interesting fiction from the imagination, but that takes time and it doesn’t necessarily come forward until well after it is created and put out there. I need to bear that in mind. If I don’t, then I can fall prey to my own ego and then I’d start eating myself, and I’d rather not. I’d rather just keep on going and try to find where everything lies and pick it all up and start again., and here is where I should do that. I don’t know if it will be here. Maybe it will be over there. However, it will happen… maybe.

But maybe is a possibility. It might not read as well as I’d like, that word, but it is a possibility, and with possibility there is chance for success, and there is chance for growth and learning. One has to be willing to fail, but one also has to be willing to succeed where they can. Success can induce fear, or rather, the idea of it can. I mean, I’m sure that success also can induce fear, but the idea of it is what I’m talking about here. You know, the “what if” of it, and I don’t know why that can cause hesitation and lead to failure through inaction, but it can. And maybe I’m telling on myself here more than I’d like.

I know that last year I realised that I might just be afraid of success, and I don’t know why. I am yet to be successful. Okay, maybe that’s why. However, I have a strong feeling that that’s why there’s a lot of things I’ve started and not finished, because they show promise and then I put it down and go elsewhere. Of course there are other reason, but this is something that I think is worth considering. And it is something that I am going to work on stopping, because if I don’t, then that’s that, really.

Now this was meant to be a silly bit of writing and I’m failing at that, or I’m succeeding at failing. I don’t know. I think I’d like to know, but maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe I’d rather keep it at not knowing, but I don’t know. But anyway, I was hoping to delve into rambling incoherently, or perhaps even some fiction, but apparently neither of those are happening and so I need to do what I can with what I have. If I don’t, then what next? Where do I go?

Maybe I should go sit on a bench. That is something I haven’t done in a while; not in a park, at least. I should go sit and rest and let myself rest properly, then move on and go to wherever. Do some hard thinking. Think deeply, or at least trick myself into believing that I am thinking deeply. I could do that. Not sure if it would offer much of anything other than me telling myself that I am deep and complex, but really I am no more complex than anyone else. We are all pretty simple creatures who are good at deceiving ourselves with our delusions of grandeur, even if we don’t believe that they are, for they often are and they are deceiving, and this is something that e need to work harder on destroying.

Sure, some people will say something about ego death through acid, but not everyone does that and there are other ways to dismantle and rebuild ourselves, and it need not be done in such a violent way. It doesn’t need to be done with a sudden smack and then have ourselves left to pick up the pieces and recombine them in a way that fits. It can be a journey without substance-based assistance. It can be done many a way, and I don’t think people think about this enough.

If you spend your life learning and growing, and you are generally open to it and genuinely open to being wrong as well as learning from being right, then you do grow as a person. Being right but being humble about it and not a smug asshole is a good way to learn. But there are plenty of ways of learning, and we need to make sure that our biases aren’t telling us we’re learning something when we’re not. Easy mistake to make, and there are plenty of them out there that we can hit on the way to wherever.

So… yeah. I think that makes sense. Or it doesn’t. But we must fight the great ego monster that the collective unconscious keeps summoning as though to torment and delude ourselves, for some reason. We are far too willing to tell ourselves things that just aren’t true, and of course there are plenty of truths out there and there are plenty of forms of what is true, but this is something we must be aware of. We are willing to hurt our learning too much and too often, and we keep on doing it, and what for? Why do we keep on doing these things?

I think about this not enough, to be honest. I don’t think about about why we refuse to learn at times, and I need to bear that in mind. I need to bear in mind a lot of things and I need to check my own self, too. I need to make sure that I keep learning and growing, and maybe that’s why the possibility of fear of success hurts me a bit, I think. Because it’s something that I’ve not considered for a while, and maybe it worries me a little as it it might say something about me that I don’t want to hear, but I need to face it. I need to face it sooner or later, so I try to face it sooner. It’s not a place where I can go using imagination (well, I can, but I don’t necessarily think it would be the best thing to do when I’m trying to figure something out that could be critical to my own growth), and so I must go in seriously. I must go in with intent and be willing to be hurt and afraid and wrong, and right, and I need to keep on growing from there. And everyone out there needs to keep on growing, too.

No one person gets out of life alive, and the best we can do is try to leave things in a bit of a better state. We don’t do that, then who are we? Who are we to make the claim that we did the best we could when we kept the best we could far away? How can we claim we did enough when we didn’t bother? So we try and try again.

19:36:99

Decent time and all that, and this really was unnecessary. However, I like that it kept moving. I like that what came forward kept moving and changing. It followed my thoughts and didn’t stick to just one thing and really dig in on the repetition, though there is plenty of that.

Written at home.

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One Thousand Word Challenge 234: I started with something in mind, but ended up writing about music

I don’t know why I’m doing this to myself yet again, but for some reason I decided it’;d be a good idea to set myself a limit and try to get this done. I’ve done this before and it doesn’t work out for me; or, it does, but it doesn’t feel like it works out and really, this is just an exercise in tedium… or exercise. An exercise in exercise. Yep. I truly an a literary giant.

So why am I doing this again, when I know that this is not a good idea? Well, I’m behind. I need to catch up. I don’t need to catch up, but I need to catch up. Does that make sense? I hope it does, because that’s what I’m going with. I’m going with some excise to stretch my fingers a bit and pretend that it’s just not an exercise.

Maybe it is an exercise in getting out all the thoughts cluttering my brain right now. Just trying to clear things and find a way forward. Maybe there is no clearing; maybe I’m stuck like this for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m not. I won’t know until I try, and really, this is about trying so try I’m gonna do.

Right now I’m listening to Cocteau Twins for the second time (might be the third), and it’s their album, Head Over Heels, and it’s all sorts of nice. I probably should’ve been listening to this around thirteen years ago. Somewhere around there, when I was listening to more music that was like this, but my head was elsewhere. My head was in far more abrasive music. Still is, really, but the older I get, the more I spread my wings. I was listening to a bunch of shoegaze at the time, or rather not much, but there was some. It was more prominent in my listening habits. Now shoegaze is more prominent everywhere and I don’t know what to do with myself. It almost feels like I was early, but I definitely wasn’t listening to it before everyone else. I would never claim that as that’d be an outright lie.

In a way it’s nice to see that music comes back and people find new ways to make use of things, but at the same time I find a lot of music to be pretty bland. Of course that’s the way it’s gonna be; there is always a lot of stuff that isn’t good. There’s always stuff that is good, too, and you go digging for it. You go digging and looking for it, and you experience it and work out why you like it and why it feels good, or if you don’t like it, then why you don’t. You work with it and you find something else… eventually. You connect the dots and you create a chain and you go back and forward and all of those things.

Digging for music has become more difficult these days, and I think that is solely to do with content generation programs. People refer to it as AI, but it’s really not. It’s just content generating programs generating content. Maybe that’s a really primitive way of looking at it, but that’s not the point of what I’m writing. What I’m writing is that it makes it more difficult for people to find stuff, unless they’re fine with that kind of cutting and repackaging, in which case, more power to them. I’m not, and I know there are others who aren’t because we don’t want to hear that kind of thing most of the time, if not all of the time. But now you need to train yourself to work out what is and isn’t, and even then it can be difficult.

You know, the attitude that everything’s been done really frustrates me, because it’s not true. New things are always happening, and it seems that the people who most often put forward this view are the ones with the most limited range of experience when it comes to music. A lot of things haven’t been done and we won’t know until we’ve heard them. It seems to be generational, too. You know, a lot of people who grew up being told Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, Janis Joplin, Miles Davis, Jimi Hendrix, etc., are the best seem to not understand that this was probably something people before them were being told; that everything has been done. It’s just not true, and it’s especially not true when it comes to music. There is so much out there we don’t know and won’t know until we hear it, and when we hear it, maybe it’ll mean nothing. But maybe, just maybe, it will change things and reshape what we hear and how we hear it, and we’ll understand things that we didn’t before when it comes to sound.

Of course we could just be derisive and declare it to be wasteful and crap, but that’s the way these things go when we don’t explore enough and allow ourselves to be wrong, or to learn, or both.

But anyway, where was I? I wanted to say something and I’ve said it and now there’s nothing left to say. I guess I should wrap this up as this has mostly been about music, which is good, but I feel myself coming to an end of the ramble and so ending the ramble is what I should do. There’s no real point in continuing on if I’ve hit the point where I feel this should wrap, so this wrapping up is what will happen. No, there will be no rapping. There will only be wrapping, and it’ll be the wrapping of the up as this writing reaches the closing of the down.

So in conclusion, music rocks and there’s a lot out there to hear. We should always bear in mind the limitations of our experience, and we should try to grow and deepen it where we can.

The time it took to write one thousand words: 11:41:11

I was going to go for two thousand words and just write whatever. I ended up writing whatever, but it was more focused than I’d hoped.

Written at home.

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“Layla” in a Café

A good few weeks ago I was in Dirty Red, and the piano exit section of “Layla” was playing and it was quiet, and it made me think of Casino, when Robert De Niro’s character is talking about Las Vegas changing and becoming something that he sees as, ultimately, tacky. He has a point, but perhaps he was mourning more his getting a lot out of what it was and expressing frustration at being unable to, than anything else. Admittedly, whilst he does express dismay, he does seem to express some appreciation for his lot in life after his exit from Las Vegas. It’s a scene that could be allegorical for Hollywood changing, and probably the whole film can be seen that way, but I digress.

Later on I was reminded that the song was used in Goodfellas and not Casino, but there was still something fitting to me, as things change. Dirty Red was quiet when I was there, and it felt very unusually so. It felt as though it should’ve been much busier. The weather was great, people were on break, the actual holiday periods were coming close. But it was quiet, and it wasn’t the first time it had been quiet whilst I was there in the morning, either.

Over the prior weeks it seemed to grow increasingly quiet, as though a lot of what was drawing people in was not working as well as it had, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. Things change, and Dirty Red is just another café at the end of the day. It is, however, my café. Like Glebe Street Deli, Little Ethel’s, Rusty Rabbit in Burwood, and Four Ate Five before it, this is where I like to go and eat. The staff know me, I know the staff, and for me it’s just a pleasant place to be. But things change, and it seems business has picked up again, but who knows how long it’ll be for.

Eventually I’ll have to find another regular. There is, of course, a chance I won’t, but it’s good to explore what’s around, and maybe I’ll end up working elsewhere, or move somewhere that makes going to Dirty Red highly impractical. There’s danger in the familiar, and there’s danger in the new, and what I really want is a sense of community; A sense of place that I don’t have to let go of because of the impermanence of affordability.

Things change, and Dirty Red might just close sooner than I’d like. Maybe it won’t, but hearing the piano exit section of “Layla”, and seeing how the space was at the time felt concerning to me. The place survived losing two awesome staff well enough, but this didn’t feel right, and sometimes change, whilst inevitable, takes more than it gives.

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Accomodating Log

This was taken during my recent journeying over the holiday break. This kind of repurposing is not something I get to see, and whilst it might present an issue in urban areas, this was not in an urban area.

I hope you enjoy.

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Five-Hundred Word Challenge 1556: Thoughts Coming and Going

I’m in one of those states where many, many thoughts are coming at me in quick succession. Cycling through them, moving away. They are as though vignettes that are refusing to formulate beyond their brief glimpses. They are complete, but they need time to be absorbed, and they are gone before that happens.

It is a tough way to have things flowing through the brain at the moment. Would rather some steadiness, but that’s not going to happen so I need to ride it out, or I don’t, but I rather I feel I need to. Probably because I feel I have no choice. I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what my brain is doing this morning. I do know that I need to use the bathroom, but that doesn’t help with the current predicament. Or maybe it does…

Thoughts flow on and they go to wherever they go. I don’t know where. Probably back to underneath the surface. Somewhere underneath, buried, chopped up, disassembled, rearranged, turned into something new, and then brought back to the surface only ti disappear again before they can be fully grasped. Before they can be used in a way that helps things be understood, or created, or whatever. Many things, no things, everything things.

They change and rearrange, and there are glimpses of what once was in there, but it has happened so many times that the familiarity remains unrecognisable. It is reconstituted elements, or rather, a series of them, broken down, reconstituted, reformulated, recreated, old becoming new… you get the idea.

So all these thoughts moving in and out, poking and prodding and dashing away, disappearing, coming back in new forms, unfamiliar, still familiar, moving, moving, always moving, and moving in a way that eludes normal capturing. It’s a fun time to be alive and a time where I need sleep, and everything feels a bit more than it should but I’ll get through it. I always do. I always survive. Somehow, I always survive.

I’m wondering what these thoughts are trying to get across and why I’m having more difficulty than usual with them. Well, usually I’m pretty good at following my thoughts and letting them happen and following them, but today I’m not and I do think it has a lot to do with fatigue. I think it does; I’m not entirely sure. Really, there’s so many reasons that could explain why, but I don’t want to go digging into that all as there’s so many other things I need to do. So many other things I need to catch up on and get out of the way, and rest also needed. A lot of rest. So much rest. All of the rest.

But these thoughts, they keep coming at me and they keep throwing themselves at me, and I can only experience them right now. I can’t hold onto them and take them somewhere, and I think what I actually should do is unwind.

The time it took to write five-hundred words: 07:16:01

Good speed. Not sure how I feel about what I’ve written. It covers how I was feeling well enough, but I don’t know if it makes for acceptable reading.

Written at home.

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