Thursday, January 28, 2010

A room with a view.
A place to write and hideaway.
The housing goddess has been good.


The rain runs quicksilver down the frog green corrugations of a banana leaf at the edge of my balcony. Workers from the rice paddy, just over the river gully in front, dash under similar fronds to their next work station and we sit squashing mozzies and enjoy the fading light. Should probably close the doors now it's that time of afternoon but the air is too refreshing to shut out.

The last few days have slowed down, we nurse Bali belly and dip occasionally into the pool between bowls of miso soup and other easily digestible fare. We stink of the garlic liberally applied to last nights meal in an attempt to kill off whatever it is that has lodged in our guts.
Turmeric tea and 3 tablespoons of papaya seeds are the local remedy but the rain and lethargy have not made sourcing either very appealing, maybe tomorrow.

The last week means that I can last now for about 20 minutes without overwhelm and tears when I converse with strangers. We have a place to stay for 2 months and the inside info on how to extend our visas without leaving the country. We have caused a scandal on 2 separate occasions and have talk in the marketplace about us in relation to our innocent blunders with the locals but the Balinese are ever smiling, very forgiving, (outwardly at least) and it appears no lasting offense has been taken.

Already we have grown a network of contacts, both locals and foreigners. People seem easy to meet in Bali. Dave has an artist's residency at a designer gallery that ships ceramics all over the world and I have just about thrown off the self recriminations about my lack of writing. Why is it so hard to allow myself some time to come to terms with the upheaval of the last three months?
It's not everyday your mother dies, your last kid leaves home, you pack all your belongings into a storage shed because your landlord wants your house back, you sell your car, give away your pets and take off to live in a foreign country whilst trying to manage menopausal emotions exacerbating all the other shit!!!!!! I reckon I can take a couple of weeks or more before anything even vaguely resembling either inspiration or concentration can be expected to emanate from my brain box. So there! Rain on banana fronds.....mmm,very soothing!

Friday, January 22, 2010


Bali is proving to be a very interesting experience already. Offers to help and guide and sponsor and support are coming from every direction. The great white tourist, the hope of Bali obviously embodied in us........scarry really, I've never anticipated being the great white hope of anyone, not consiously, although now I think of it, that movie with Barbara Streisand when she played the therapist and had her name chanted as a mantra by one of her grateful clients....."Lowenstien, Lowenstien"........did appeal I must say, back in the days when I was hoping to be the salvation of some of the young people that I worked with. Hehehehe, and then there was that soul collage card that I created, I'll see if I can upload the pic....of the woman holding up the light for the unfortunates cowering in the darkness. OMG, I do have a saviour complex!!!!!!
Better watch that I guess, especially now that I recall yet another story where some loony ( a politically incorrect term I know, and one based soley on my difficult experience with this particular individual)tried to co-op me, not without some appeal I might add, to join him and the other angels sent to earth to hold back the forces of evil overtaking the planet......cringe!!!!
That was in the early days of my Christian phase which will be further explored in my book...........stay tuned :0

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

There's a book inside of me scratching to get out!!!

Three weeks since my last entry.
Not two weeks since my mother died.
One week ago I stood crying in the shopping mall.
My 2 adult daughters no longer visible and my fractured nerves post funeral unable to cope with being alone, out in the world after three weeks of confinement stroking the fading life from my mothers body, waiting for her final breath.
Now I sit on my third floor balcony, Ubud, Bali.
Mount Batur visible for the first time since our arrival, a clear cool day.
Gradually the stimuli from the outside world arrive without completely jarring and strangers, smells and sights register through the fog.
How long it will take to land and establish the routine I need to focus on more than just these few words I cannot say. But stay tuned as the journey unfolds