Rebellion

I'm a bit sick of all this peace and bloody watery reflection. This book is supposed to be about gypsies and whores and whirling skirts lifted in the face of tut tutting Madonnas. It's supposed to be about rebellion and struggle; to scorn the powers that be and yet since landing in Bali I haven't even been dancing,got drunk or lashed out on anything extravagant. The interminable zen of it all needs a damn good shaking. Look out Ubud!

Eruptions

Yesterday there was an earthquake. I was sure the bed was shaking when I woke up before dawn but perhaps it was just David on the other side of the mattress scratching at some mosquito bite. I wouldn't have mentioned it except he had woken in the night as well, imagining that some lizard war was unfolding on my bedside table. There was a flapping sound he said like something in the throes of death. Apparently he had turned on the light and got up to see what was happening but there was nothing to be seen. Later when he went to order breakfast there was a large moth beating its wings against the upstairs window trying to get out. In a place where omens and auspicious events proliferate I can not help but wonder what might be stirring in the nether world. Today I woke in tears. Subterranean currents bubbled loss and grief to the surface of my morning. Change always means letting go and right now my empty hands need holding.

Green Collage

Outside my sliding doors,
two metres of veranda drops
into jungle
The green collage
stands motionless except for
butterfly or squirrels tail.
But then a gentle tipping starts
and fingertip of frond and leaf
respond in motion to the rythm of the rain.
Like a childs first taps on piano keys
they all dip and rise in harmony
until the sunshower moves away.
A symphony of leaves.

Who said that?

It's been interesting playing around with the idea of voice over the last couple of days. Most of what I have written in the past has been in the first person and I am not sure that for the particular story which seems to be emerging that that is the way I want to go. So yesterday I rearranged several pages of text to be from a narrators point of view, which openend some new perspectives that I quite liked. Now I find the narrator has developed a character all of it's own and the story is now being told by a kind of guardian angel/sylph type being that I had never even imagined to exist until it appeared this morning.And boy does she ever have a lot to say!
I love having the freedom to play with this stuff

Coffee and vanilla bean

I have developed quite a taste for Bali coffee with half a fresh vanilla pod and a dash of honey and milk. Vanilla pod was always one of those luxury items that never made it to my shopping trolley but the spices at the markets here throw their scent through the cellophane and are an irresistible enticement of colour and promised flavour. The last time I was here I lusted after them but knew I would not get them home through customs. Now as my kitchen capacity grows I plan to celebrate their availability. Who has a great recipe for star anise?
I am enjoying my days at home. Afternoon thunderstorms, morning massages, the ever watchful workers who come and clean the room the minute I leave the house. Lifestyle is so affordable here, and I am enjoying the ease, the cooked breakfasts, the cleaner and groundskeepers. Yesterday I went out to take some clothes to the laundry where they are washed and dried and ironed.....OMG....to see four or five of the workers here tending the garden. They were trimming the lawns with hedge clippers, and cutting banana leaves to use for their ceremonial dishes. The idea of using a noisy lawnmower because it was quicker was a joke for them, Bali time is quiet time.
My writing has started to find a rhythm and the story has begun.

Connection

There was a huge golden orb weaver hung in space off my balcony this morning.
Balinese pancakes are green, and breakfast on the terrace is divine.
It looked a little off kilter, I thought perhaps it was injured but closer inspection revealed that it was actually pulling silk from its abdomen to construct a new web. It was balanced precariously on the tenuous threads of it's beginning. By the end of the morning it had completed its task, sunlight threw golden shimmers across its masterpiece. But the thing that struck me was the change in the creature at it's centre. Poised, legs spread as it read the vibrations along every strand. it was in perfect balance. No longer an ungainly creature struggling in space but connected contained and engaged.
Slowly in Bali I feel similar threads weaving a new life for me. New connections to bring balance to the places where I have struggled to maintain equilibrium, to find a foothold. All my familiar threads are broken but there are new beginnings and my tentative limbs are now open to the vibrations of another web.
Today I sorted through all my writing and the forest showed me how to start my story. I had three warm and unexpected displays of affection from local people I have met and am reassured by the gentle spirit of this place.

Well, today's the day!
The tedium of shopping and house hunting and currency conversion complete I have a whole day, alone, in my room, with my laptop...........
Hmmmmmmmmm, daunting really when you get what you want.
For more than two years I've been saying I want to write a book. I want to stop work so I can stay focussed and inspired. I've wanted to write since I was five.
Well. Here I am.
OhOh!