Can I tell you a story?

Can I tell you a story?A floppy, flimsy story. 

Of a fairy who mopped, 

the carrot-topped hill.

Dirt, dirt, so much it is.

Yet the dirt only shifted,

never left. 

Can I tell you a story? 

A silly kind of story.

Of a jinn in its bottle

swarming eagerly the opening.

Waiting patiently for an exit 

yet held all the magic of the world.

It did.

Can I tell you a tale?

A bearded tale of gentry

who bid adieu to his lady

too cowardly to sing 

My lady. 

Hello Hello 2016!

It’s really been ages since I posted a blog. I can’t quite remember how long it’s been since my last one. But life got in the way, plans got in the way, and holidays surely got in the way. Still, plenty to see and do and I feel the year has only just begun. 2016. What a year it’s going to be.

The air feels different, the pace feels different, and mostly, I feel different. More confident, more driven, more ready! I am ready for my goals, I am ready for the hard work, and I am ready for the fun. The achievement comes at the end of it all, of course, but right now, the work, the project, the aim is all that matters. Surely, 2016 will be better than 2015, and so on. Surely. Didn’t I tell you the air feels different.

Here’s how 2016 began for me. I made a film I’ve been wanting to for ages. Yup, another film. This time, even the film feels different. Why? Because, my goal has changed. it is now, not if, but when I will get to the goal. Feels like it’s only a short distance away, as if I could stretch my arm and just reach out for it and I shall touch it.

The Legacy. This year is all about the legacy I am beginning to build. About me, about my life, and most of all, about my identity as a filmmaker, especially in this moment when there has been such a movement for gender equality in the sector. I don’t mean to talk politics. In fact, I dare say I don’t understand politics, but this movement, it’s lent fresh hope, fresh desire to give it a try. After all, nothing to lose.

This year. That’s all I’m allowing myself to say. This year is the year. And so, let it begin.

I have no resolution. I only have one desire and an aim. One desire and aim are doable right? Within the bounds of this year. Little fish in a giant pond. Yikes. Here goes nothing.

Thanks for joining me another year. I look forward to brining you more stories, more poems, another book perhaps, and more news about the next film I’m working on. Time to use more ‘creativity’. In the meantime, what’s your 2016 resolution? (I’ve given up on trying to shed kilos – and that was even before I even tried). LOL

Have a wonderful day.

EIMG_3119

 

It’s the holidays, but my advice ‘Keep Running’.

Here it is dear bloggers, friends and those who stumble upon my words quite by accident and may or may not stay to till the end. I haven’t been very attentive of you these past few months. True. I haven’t written random thoughts on writing. I haven’t share odd little poetry, or the lengthy ones. Heck, I haven’t even written my weirdly popular style, the narrative poetry in a very long time. The reason, you ask? I’ve been busy trying to detangle my life. And then the end of year snuck up on me, just like that.  

I’ve done many things this year, but then I haven’t done enough. You know how it is. The balance is ever precarious to say the least. Here is what I’m hoping to bring you in the new year: a new comedy film (currently in post-production), a new book (for those who love a love story), a new adventure with new people (yes, I’m making a bigger and creepier film in Jan), and I hope to hope to keep at it with my feature film idea. It’s gonna be a busy, busy year, 2016. But how do you say goodbye to 2015?

Here’s a little something I’d like to share with you. I came upon it in my Facebook feed and thought, true, we gotta keep running!

Do you have a dream? Something you want to achieve, someone you want to be? I do. I have a dream of being a writer (author/screenwriter) and if I can continue to make films, then even better. And I have been causing mine. If dreams were doors, then I guess I’m working towards getting that door wedged wider and wider, pushing against whatever heavy thing that’s wedged against it on the other side. I’m getting there, one millimeter, centimeter at a time. 

My advice? Chase them. You have a dream, chase them. Chase them till you run out of breath. Chase them till you think you cannot chase them anymore. Till you think you have no more energy left in you for the chase. Chase them with every tiny idea you have that might open the door. Chase them even if you don’t have the key, or any idea where it may be. Learn to pick that lock if you must. But chase you must. Why? Because down the road, down the end of the line, the biggest regret you will have was you never even chased your dream, you gave up before the race even began. You looked the other way. And then, all you will be left with is the gnawing question, ‘What if?’.

I can’t live with a ‘what if’ hanging over my head. The biggest hurdles to those who dream are either fear of failure or fear of success. Odd little thing, isn’t it. We dream of it everyday. Yet tiny bit of irrational fear holds you back. 

Go chase your dream in 2016. Just keep running till you get to the line. One step at a time. I wish all of you a Happy Holidays. Enjoy your festivities, enjoy the company of loved ones, and lastly, hold onto that dream.

  

Xx

Oh no, I left a book on the train. On purpose, of course. 

I’ve done something silly today. There I was, coming back home on the train, having had a copy of my first book on hand. And while I sat there in the jam packed carriage, top floor, by the window and crammed in, I thought why not leave the book for someone to pick up and take home. Of course, why would I do that right? I actually got to thinking how many hands a book can change. It’s like currency, isn’t it? So I kind of wanted to see if anyone who came upon the book would participate. So, I left the book, with a message on the inside for whom ever comes across it. 

I even set up a Twitter account (@solobooktravel) they can tag if anyone participates in tracing the journey of an unknown book by an unknown author. The small fish in a rather large ocean. See if it can even cause a tiny bit of wave. 

I don’t know what will come of this if any, but I’ve got nothing to loose and a weird curiosity that could be somehow satisfied. Let’s see what happens now. Lol. What can I say, I was bored on the train. 
www.twitter.com/solobooktravel

I go

I go as far as the eye goes

I sow as much as the seed grows

I water till the last drop of sea flows

I reap only what the Earth knows.
I, such a word that is hardly a word,

but a solitary letter. 

I, I know as much as you will teach me.
This world, it grows as much as I seek.

Not one answer, not one creed. 

But many, marching to some distant beat. 

I. 
I am human. 

I am me.

I am cencorsed only by me.
I go as far as the mind grows,

doors flung open, waiting.
I go. So man goes. 

Ebony & Frank: 7

Eb stared at the flickering candle light as she munched on the sandwich Niko had dropped off with many other provisions and cleaning products. 

‘Can’t stay. I’m expected home for dinner or me old lady will get cranky having not seen me since morning.’ He’d handed the bag over and scuttled back to his ute. ‘Will come tomorrow morning with helping hands to get you better settled in and get rid of them tall grass for you. Goodnight now, Miss Watson.’

‘Eb!’ She called out as Niko bounced out on the uneven dirt driveway. ‘Goodnight.

Eb reached for her ears and cupped them to drown out the noise, but it persisted, forcing her to drag herself to the window and discover a man on a ride-on mower with a giant scythe on on hand doing a job of cutting the overgrown grass. Shit! What time is it? 

She pulled on a faded old gown and walked across the open log lounge and out the front door. ‘Morning Niko!’ She called at the top of her lungs, and the man turned, half his face hidden beneath a wide rimmed straw hat. He stopped the engine, hopped off the machine and strode across the freshly mowed patch of lawn. As he strode up the stairs Eb felt a little concerned. It wasn’t Niko.

She was about to take a step back when the man removed his hat and gave her an indiscernible nod. 
He held out his hand. ‘You must be Ebony Watson.’ Eb felt every hair on her body stand tall as she took in the whole of the man. She felt he looked familiar as she shook his hand briskly. Something about him put her on edge.

‘Ah!’ Called out Niko as he pushed a wheelbarrow around the side of the house and spotted the two. ‘I see you two have met.’ Eb shook her head causing Niko to drop the wheelbarrow and stride forth till he reached the patio. ‘Eb, met the handiest man in these parts. The handiest handy man you will ever find, Frank.’

‘Frank,’ she amount whispered the name, her voice catching in her throat.

(I’m still writing this sections and will update more in a day or so.)

Ebony & Frank: 6

Ebony stood uncertain at the rusty wire fence and the wildly overgrown grasses that leaned over like tired dancers at a ball across the dirt driveway. She had already looked left, then right, realizing that as far as she could see in any direction, there were no other houses. The bus that had brought her there had left ages ago that the dust had already settled. She held the string of her tiny shoulder bag, a parting gift from one of the nurses and stared at the desolate gateway. Hadn’t she just gained a whole property that was apparently falling apart from neglect? If so, she didn’t really see any such house on top of the small hill. 

Eb felt sick to her stomach. She had left the comfort and safety of a nursing home. Even if she wanted to go back, it was at least a 45 minute ride. She stared up the sorry excuse of a hill and wondered if the house was already in a pile of rotten wood. 

She jumped when she heard the honk of a large ute rumbling to a stop behind her, swirling a mini dust storm as the tyres skidded to a halt. ‘Do you need a hand?’

She turned to see a young farmer. He eyed her from head to toe and then eyed her bag at her feet. Everything hunted and gathered by the nursing home staff when they heard Eb had somewhere to go. 

‘I’m just passing through.’ She lied. The guy eyed her bag again. ‘My husband has just gone to pee.’

‘You going in there or not? I can give you a ride up. It’s like half a kilometer from here to the front door.’ He jumped out of the vehicle, causing Eb to feel edgy. She wasn’t ready for normal people, or crazy I’ll-kill-women-on-the-side-of-the-street people.

‘I’m fine. Don’t need help.’ She stubbornly reached for her bag and huffed out. ‘As I said, my boyfriend won’t be long.’

‘I thought you said a husband?’ He smiled, reaching for the bag. ‘Come on, I know this place. My dad used to keep the farm when he was still alive. The rich folks only ever came once in a blue moon.’ He swung the metal gate open and waited for her to step in. ‘I’m Niko by the way.’ He extended a hand to her. ‘You friends of the family or family?’

‘Owner.’

‘Damn! I thought the lady of the house was old, like a 100 or something.’

Eb smiled. He seemed kind enough and stepped onto the grounds. ‘I recently acquired it.’

‘Well, I’ll be happy to show you the ropes around here. Give you an orientation.’

Eb smiled. She knew next to nothing about farms and keeping them, and hell, Hillary’s old abandoned family farm looked like it first needed a fix up before Eb would be easy enough to say that it was her farm. ‘That would be really appreciated.’

Niko nodded and dumped Eb’s bag onto the back of his ute and turned the car towards the gate he had opened. ‘Well, get in then. You don’t want to accidentally step on snakes in them bushes, do you?’ Eb got in and Niko drove her up to the ramshackled house. 

It was old, the paint was peeling, revealing large chunks of dark motley wood underneath. The bushes and weeds, and some climbers crawled all around it. She could see large glistening cobwebs, no doubt belonging to deadly spiders. She hated spiders. Neigh, she was terrified of them, especially the large ones. ‘I don’t like spiders,’ she blurted, almost in surprise. 

‘I’m not fond of them either. Got bitten as a kid once. Wasn’t remotely entertaining.’ Niko jumped off the ute, grabbed a shovel from the back and started thrashing the tall grasses flat so they could access the steps. He brought her up to the house with her bag and smiled, looking around the acres. ‘You’ve got hell of a work cut out for you, I tell you that.’

Eb felt her stomach churn. How was she going to afford fixing up the house and the farm. ‘Any idea where I should start?’

‘Go in, clean up a room for you to stay in and clean what you can for now. I’ll drop by this afternoon after helping out at the Webb’s farm. Bring you cleaning products and such. And we can start.’ Niko didn’t wait for her to agree or disagree. He dropped off his small esky saying there was a bottle of water and some sandwiches that should tie her over till he came back. Before long, Eb was standing completely alone under the weathered porch watching Niko reverse all the way down and disappear.

She turned and looked around. Well, it wasn’t much for now, but it was definitely enough for someone who had nothing to her name less than a month ago. Eb fished the set of keys from her pocket and started trying them out on the front door. 

Vintage be 

Cling it did like the old misty mildew

long forgotten by time

sleek and cold across the ceiling.

Glistened the fine gossamer 

waltzing figures spun from the dew

glint and swirl as though music played

silently, for none but them.

Resting dust hugged the vintage wood

like long lost lovers united

all consuming, all immediate

as though years apart were torture of sorts.

And outside, the garden grew 

wild as if the days ahead were short

soaking all the sun, all the rain.
But none saw the ragged doll beneath tall weeds

an arm torn from its socket,

eyes fixed to the promising sky

perhaps she would today see a familiar face…

the child who left in a hurry,

dragged by the arm, her cries unheard.
‘My dolly! My dolly!’ …and shoved into a beaten old tin box.

The exhaust spewing dirty.

My little film is showing somewhere!

My little film is showing somewhere!

As it turns out, this year is nearly at its speedy end. It’s later in October and we only have two months left to accomplish anything we set out to do this year. Where’s the time rewinding clock? If only Back to the Future was possible! Seems to be the week for it. At least that’s the buzz this week. 
There is however another little buzz in my life, the buzz of a short film I was involved in the making of finally hitting the silver screen across various Australian cities starting today. 

I’m nervous and curious, and excited and terrified all at the same time. What’s worse is that due to festivals and other commitments I am not there in the city of Perth observing the audience as they react to the film. As a writer-director, this tends to be the most nerve-wrecking moment. Not the countless hours preparing to shoot, nor the countless hours spent shooting it and cut it etc. No. It’s this, waiting for feedback. 

Can I fast forward a couple of hours to hear how the screening went? Haha. That would be something, wouldn’t it? 

Here’s the teaser for the film in case you would like to check it: Dhago (Nepali short film) 

I’ll report back to you tomorrow and let you know what the word is on the streets. Wish I could have been there, but alas, it’s still an exciting time!