The Seventies and Now

I had a little bit of a sleepless night, lying awake for hours. Not worrying, as used to be the case in the near past … just thinking. We were at a birthday party yesterday - my baby girl is now well into her thirties, with two babies of her own - furthermore, the birthday party was combined with a going-away party for two friends. They are retired and as I write this they are on the plane to Bali, the first stage of a trip through Asia and Europe that is planned to last a year or so.

Bali is the place where I met my former wife 39 years ago, now she’s on the way back there. At the time I convinced her to come to Copenhagen, Denmark; we got married, had our first child … I got his name (Radjin, a.k.a. Rad) from the Balinese painter I studied while there. The year was 1977. Nevertheless, Northern Europe was too cold and we came to Australia; had two more children, divorced, etc etc.

Today in the newspaper one of the first columns I read was Richard Glover talking about the seventies … how they are being milked for contemporary tv. He talks about how the seventies were a decade of bad fashion, bad interior decorations, bad food. This got me thinking.

The seventies were my decade of activity ... of travels, falling in love, creative work (probably my best work was done in those years) and discovery; both of the world, and myself. First I moved to Amsterdam, worked there for a couple of years, equipped my Landrover and took it on a road trip to Kathmandu and back. Then I moved to Copenhagen, travelled again - to Bali - and finally moved to Australia.

Here I brought up three children; in their teens largely (but not solely) on my own … living in one spot for nearly twenty years, while my kids went through high school and did a lot of professional learning from my place in Cremorne, a huge apartment where I also had my studio. The place was a hoot, many fond memories from those years of living with teenagers and their cahoots of friends and hangers-on.

That time came to an end a few months ago, not without upheaval and soul searching. Frankly, it was downright painful; but now is Now. I have settled into a new home ... graciously provided by grandma, the (now retired) wood carver of Balmoral. I have found peace on a little veranda, looking into a small garden, with a tiny little room where I edit my photos & videos (it used to be her wood workshop) ... a place where I can read, watch & listen ... then think ... then write.

So why did I not sleep much last night? When Leesa & Mark were getting ready for their great journey, something strange happened ... I thought: Better you than me. Lying awake I had sort of an epiphany: My last 29 years - since a trip to India and meeting a Master - I have spent studying life; reading, watching & listening ... then thinking ... then writing. As a result, my concern now is mostly with the world within. My travels now are into my mind. Will I ever again travel to far-away lands?

Maybe ...

Balmoral

The Woodcarver of Balmoral