is the world your brethren?

my blood brother

Its amazing this lovely trip I have been on. I have had my eyes pulled wide to some harsh realities in life. Out of my comfort zone and in to abstract lands of destruction, famine, nature, scarcity, mysticism. It is always a ride and I have learned to really harness my faith in 'all meant to be', when I am witness to some of the insanity in this world.

One message that has really hit home with me, that I didn't appreciate when I left London to move to Sydney many years ago is the incredible value of family. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was on Skype regularly connecting with my folks at opposite ends of the day, but one person was very much missing; my brother.

Apparently its innate for there to be a strained relationship between siblings.  Being academic growing up and the 'always good' one in the eyes of my folks (actually I'd say more like 'always good at getting away with it') and my younger brother who struggled from birth starting with two broken collarbones and major heart surgery - saved by a hole in it ironically - and then being more of a musician than a nerd like me at school created a rather interesting relationship between us. I'm sure most siblings have had it. I remember one girl at my school having her grades stuck on the fridge next to her twin sisters. She struggled with her weight and didn't get straight A's unlike her skinny twin. Can you imagine what an impact that must have on a person? Blimey. Complexities galore. So my little bro developed a rather cool rebellious streak that manifested in to being a really awesome hyperactive and entertaining musician who liked to joy-ride my car, while I was smug little 'I don't need anyone to discipline me' because I just naturally aced things. As my Dad would remind me at this point "no one likes a smart ass".


Nevertheless, that missing relationship in my adult life came to haunt me when I decided to travel. Things were strained between James and I. We really didn't gel. His temper and my smart-ass didn't make friends and as I set out on tour I met many who I would call my 'soul family' - beautiful friends that were like brothers and sisters to me which highlighted that void in my life more and more. I suppose if you want to see the world as "ONE" then knowing what it is to love is pretty important. Thankfully my brother and I had a really cool reunion in the UK last year and again in Antigua. We hung out. We made friends. We respected one another and we had a very cool conversation about aspects of ourselves that were really inherited and didn't do us any favours. He's awesome. I love him. Always have, always will, however now we can actually be mates. That's cool.

Now the wonderful appreciation for 'everyone's my brethren' and I want them to be happy is all good and well HOWEVER, in the West especially we live in a time where competition between us drives a collective mentality. It drives our consumptive culture and if it were not for 'a sense of comparison' perhaps we would not be so driven to buy things we don't truly need and give a damn what others think of us. Not an easy one to transcend I guess. This also creates a separation between people. Which can sadly grow in to wars and bloodshed.

In India when I stayed with who I call 'my surrogate family'. Man, I love them. The parents Melchandar and Didi (same age as I am) slept in one room with their five children. Their life is not comfortable but like we all do, they've adapted in order to survive the reality of intense snowfall, low caste status, lack of running water and employment. They amazingly do survive with an incredible faith in Shiva (God of the Universe). But one thing I really felt they had so powerfully that I feel we have really lost in the West is a true sense of community and family; they share their karma's and dramas. If one member of the family suffers; the whole family suffers with them. I mean what could be more manifest than blood? In the West we have an idea that to need support is weakness. You don't see updates of people saying; "Guys, going through a major break up, feel bloody miserable, could do with a hug" on Facebook do you? And yet we all suffer. We all feel emotions and its hard because we rightly know the value of optimism and don't like to bring another down. This 'one man for himself' and 'dog eat dog' can be a ruthless field of play.

This big wall around our hearts has done an amazing job at blocking out true feelings, true empathy and open heartedness with another. Understandably really because life can be hard, people can be shit and we all by nature, strive to survive. Its sad that we even have to ask for help when really, deep down, there is a sense of knowing when something's up with someone;"R U OK?" is worthy of a plug here.

There are a lot of things to be thankful for when being from a 'developed' nation, I feel super grateful for the freedom and comfort that affords me yet personally, its wonderful to come back to thanks for my family despite them being sprinkled about the globe and my galavants. They are not perfect. We've had a 'story' but thankfully we've taken the lessons and moved on.

The biggest insight I have had recently in terms of relating to people is to 'live and let live', something I am sure is very hard for parents to accept when their little'ns become big'ns or you see people you love missing the obvious...  and in an interestingly cool way this idea could lead to anarchism:

The world is so imbalanced this day today with so much separation because people both in personal relationships and worldwide try to fix other people in the outer sense to get some kind of inner peace and balance. This will never work out, we need to hold ourselves responsible for our own inner selves and lives.

My gorgeous 3 year old nephew who I met for the first time this week just said aloud "Hakuna Matata."

Amen to that little 3 year old man. Such a gift.

paris, je t'aime

Allo Allo {Deux Américains à Paris} from House of Nod on Vimeo.

After my stint as the galley chef crossing the Atlantic, I made a Bounty road trip from Palma - Paris via Barcelona in a VW campervan with my wonderful team mate Flora.

Paris charmed me with her style and elegance. She literally oozed style from every crevice that I almost got a complex. Almost. The food. The wine. The message that despite our sufferings, our high unemployment rate, we still try to keep the idea of ourselves alive and in honesty, she didn't look like she was trying too hard.

Of course my love affair in Paris was tainted with a distinct lack of any cute guy to share it with. Besides my gorgeous friend Cedric but, well, he's my mate however muchly appreciated and a lovely friend to stroll the city with. Nevertheless at points I wanted to hold hands with a handsome man down the streets and share jokes about the red trousers that were getting cooler and cooler every time I saw a person wearing them. Instead I tucked in to a book by Carl Jung about Symbols of Dreams, munched fruit and sat on the ornate bridges reading and watching the world go by. I hung out with Leonardo De Vinci and his mates at Musee de Lourve and treated myself to a sunset canal-side cheese dish and glass of wine. 'If I'm not dating anybody', I thought, 'I am most certainly dating myself'.

Top simple things to do as single lady wondering around Paris:

1. Walk around the city, walk and walk. Walk through the night and feel the incredible craftsmanship that has gone in to the lit up buildings.
2. Spontaneously attend a nightclub on a boat for the fun of it. When you feel like a total loner, get on the dance floor and remind yourself that you may never see these people again and find yourself hugging the lady DJ.
3. Attend the Musee de Lourve and admire, be cultured and get lost in there. See the famously smug Da Vinci's Mona Lisa and have a conversation with her to reveal her secrets.
4. Check out style icon of her days home. Meet Marie Antoinette at the Palace de Versailles. All golden and elegant and amazingly stylish. 
5. Yes. Do admire men wearing red trousers, stripey tops and fancy BoBo shoes. Appreciate just how amazing they are just to be able to don a pair and still look cool.
6. Ask Paris what her problems are. Turns out she's got some serious social welfare issues. Deary me. Unemployment is high. She's struggling.
7. Enjoy a delectable last supper on the canal of cheese and a glass of wine. Enjoy every mouthful and don't feel guilty for it whatsoever. You're awesome. Calories or non.
8. Go to the Moulin Rouge. Sing Lady Marmalade out loud or in your head and take photos.
9. Sunset at La Defense for illuminated skyscrapers and an interesting perspective of the city.
10. Find a yoga studio (thanks to my lovely friend Valerie) and go to a 'Shamanic Free Dance'. Spontaneous, alive and exciting.

Decadent, Paris told me unapologetically. 'Bo-bo' is the term for the bohemian-bourgeois, the consciously self-conscious. For the bicycle riders in stylish twin buttoned camel jackets. Something superficial and yet something real and expressive at the same time. Something that cared so much about caring. A mother to herself in a way. But a really stylish, slim, French model of a mum that all your mates would blatantly fancy.

It may become increasingly apparent that I have the ability to fall in love with everywhere I go and I think in my heart that's what makes the world truly beautiful and to find something to love about places and people. Romantic Paris had me feeling pretty lonely at times but incredibly inspired strolling about in the city and grateful that I could reintegrate myself in to a city after being away from one for so long.

Here are some wonderful quotes on what it is to be stylish from the Daily Love:

“Fashions fade, style is eternal.” - Yves Saint Laurent  

“Style is knowing who you are, what you want to say, and not giving a damn.” - Gore Vidal  

“Don’t be into trends. Don’t make fashion own you, but you decide what you are, what you want to express by the way you dress and the way to live.” - Gianni Versace

According to a survey this is my city.

"You should live in Paris. The city of lights will appeal to your appreciation of beauty and romance. You are a lover and a poet by nature, and Paris' sensitive charms will be a perfect match for yours."

I guess I will just have to wait and see.

why i'm not asking jesus for answers

In response to your BIG, DEEP, HEAVY question about why you feel I am not asking Jesus aka "The One" for answers...

(This video is of the Everest region of Nepal which is Tibetan Buddhist with a Hindu soundtrack of worship to Shiva)

Your question is an incredibly valid one and I am grateful to you to have bravely - despite anonymously - brought it to my attention. As you can imagine on my travels I come across many different codes of conduct; Hindu, Buddhist, Christian, Muslim, Shamanism, Naturists, etc. And just the other day I sat chatting on the train to Exeter with a lovely gentleman/academic who was a writing paper on Muslim philosophy which was so fascinating.

With a mind that loves philosophy and having been an avid wanderer in my time (as you so rightly called out) I’ll say what I feel is the best way to answer this question at this present moment; although I would like to caveat that like much of the essence of ‘knowing’, is still subject to change like seemingly everything in my life; “Wisest is she who knows she does not know” as some wise guy said. I'll back that.

From my own experience, I can’t say I follow or believe in one religion over another now. I have very much connected with Buddhism in the past and have a tattoo of a Tibetan mantra on my foot from a special trek I did in Nepal 2011 that represents compassion and I like the idea of non-clinging and Karma Yoga. And each faith has its merits in teaching us all to be better conditioned people after being beautifully damaged or psychologically disturbed by the histories of family, genetics, society, the world around us blah blah blah and thus can inspire in us a love, devotion and forgiveness for another, for abandoning us for example, that sometimes; if it were not for faith would be hard to come by.

I believe in ONE-ness. The unity consciousness. The One Love that Bob Marley sings about. The ying-yang that creates the virtuous circle and unity between the dualities of perceived dark and light, the good and bad. The realisation that one might not know one without the other. I believe that God’s essence or Jesus as you might say (who to me represents joy and love) is within us all and by serving the greater good of mankind we are in turn serving ‘oneself’.

On a very conditioned and amusing level I can explain why I have avoided - to some extent - Jesus Christ the Superstar. When I was 14, my mother became a "Born Again Christian". She’s Venezuelan, has Catholic roots and now believes that she is her own temple. Her name's Eglee which translates to 'Church' in French so it was all pretty obvious and she got there in the end. Brilliant. However, back then, she relentlessly pressured me to go to this concrete place of worship because her fellow Born Again village friends saw it as good behaviour. This pissed me off no end. Firstly, I didn’t want to get up early on a Sunday and secondly the day she did persuade me to attend in order to make her look like a good Christian; was also the day that the man at the alter started spieling stuff about how “Gays are unnatural” and as you have read - I don't subscribe to this view and thankfully nature has proven this to be an incorrect perspective (many animals have same sex or at least try to - perhaps those Greek Gods were right!), but I didn’t like this at all. In fact, I recall my school friend Fliss and I walking out as ‘nature called’. Meanwhile someone in the church started having a divinely inspired praise the lord moment, which was like a scene out of The Exorcist. For 14 year old me - that was just weird and scary.

So the following Sunday when mum tried to get me to go to church again; I sat on the ledge of my windowsill, quite dramatically, crying in my hormonal state and threatened her that I would jump out my window and kill myself (or badly damage myself) if she forced me to go.  It took that much persuasion to have her let me lie in and respect my views. The church did however succeed in persuading my Mum to marry her boyfriend that she wasn’t ready to commit her whole life to as otherwise she was having to sneak him in to the house in case the church-goers living opposite saw. So now she’s twice divorced and in those circles might be made to feel ashamed of it. Pity because she’s more awesome than ever.

As you probably know Anon; keeping a life-long promise is no walk in the park and people need to learn in their own time, not through peer pressure, when to make that kind of commitment to their word. So essentially she was being made to feel ashamed for her love in that 'organised religion' and that's just as common in other religions too. So that's my Christian connection. But there's a lot I do like about Christianity. I especially love church bells. They’re like giant healing singing bowls and I think the idea of a high building to remind everyone that “God is watching” is a nice reminder to have. My version was to get my mates phone, change my name on it to GOD and text the very same "I can see you" much to both our amusement. I really like the beautiful 'crafted with devotional love' steeples. Perhaps that's why I love La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. Visited 3 times. Still not bored.

I suppose with me, right now, I believe in spirit. The power of inspiration. The genius. But that is something one can only see through experience. What many might term a ‘spiritual experience’. Something that words can only point to but if you are unfortunately as inquisitive as I am and want to appease an inner “But Whhhhhhyyyy?” most the time you might be able to get to the roots of. Exhausting work. If only I listened to Lennon and just 'let it be'. When this spiritual experience happens you might want to humbly attribute it to a God or perhaps, as in my case 'freak out' before eventually doing what Carl Jung or a Yogi might say and “surrender” to the unconscious. Like that Jesus on the cross moment “Forgive me father for they know not what they do” or in my case “Forgive me folks for I knew not what I was doing” because people are unconsciously behaving a certain way. We all do it and it sucks but we need to learn right?

My "God" is what the tribes too remote for organised religion have: my heart and I am learning to have faith in this big bad-ass heart of mine although admittedly its hard when it takes a battering or two. There are some cruel things happening in this world right now, its like self-harm(!) and I am a big softy under the bad-ass "I am fine alone" exterior.

I did go through a short-lived phase of preaching and I didn’t like myself very much; nor did my mates. I felt very inauthentic and this feeling of ‘holier than thou’ was stupid. Psychologists might call it co-dependency which is world endemic. A need to be needed or trying to fix others. It started to resemble a ‘spiritual arrogance’ like I was the Queen's Mother or something and I believe NOW that this takes away the biggest learning one could grasp from any true and loving religion or better termed in my world ‘inspiration’; that we are equal. That we “were made in his image”. That we are all special. This is very hard to deal with when you see people hurting themselves and your inner superhero wants to save them. You can't evidently.

As a rather open-minded spiritual tourist; I have connected with Jesus and the Virgin Mary a few times symbolically so you know. I actually met a guy who was having his born again moment and I felt like an abandoned mother. The same guy I fell in love with and experienced a sense of rejection from. I also went to an amazing gospel church in Antigua and was the only 'white person' there. The pastor said “who’s ready to surrender to whatever it is you are here on Earth to do?” – I was like “Yes. Please. Finally. Lets do this God!”. Next thing I know I am being hustled from the back row to stand at the front with a handful of others in a massive room of people. God has a marvellous sense of humour and loves a dramatic backdrop while also embarrassing the hell out of me in public. So I surrendered and the next thing I knew I was crying with a big beautiful black lady hugging me from behind. Always good to know a sister has my back. Wonderful little scene it was and the energy in that room was incredible. I was buzzing.

And so now I feel like I am living "Gods will" which is just being who I am. I am happy to be “a channel of his peace” and I always was. Don't we all wish for that deep down? I share love in my own way. I keep a blog for entertainment. I share my toys. I try to protect nature (she’s my version of Virgin Mary), I do massages, practice yoga and meditation and I pray for peace in the world. I am also not perfect. I can lose my way and I have learned to ask for help without feeling ashamed. I have said the 'wrong' thing many a time. I also love the mystery of life, flowers, alternative medicine and have a strong intuition which once upon a time, if a Christian knew, would have me burned at the stake and called a witch! Which in my opinion is not very equal and loving at all, especially if women are a representation of Mother Nature or like 'a man with a womb'. Come on people!

I also had the best trek with a fellow traveler to Everest Basecamp who had been brought up in an Evangelical Christian community and carried her heavy bible with her on the high altitude trail. The two best moments (beyond arriving at Basecamp and sharing Hobnobs of course) were when she was sharing passages out of the bible – I am a big fan of the ‘what is love’ verses -  as my Tibetan Buddhist monk friend, Pasang, sat there uncomfortably as though one were a threat to the other.

The second best moment was when we went to this beautiful bridge (above) aligned with prayer flags and both Krista and I tied flags on it making prayers for those we love so that the wind could blow those messages to ‘God’. We had just walked by a very commercial part of the trail and really craved Mars Bars but were on a tight a budget (no ATMs) so we couldn’t have overpriced Mars Bars. I said to Krista “this would’ve been the perfect spot to eat our Mars Bars” and pretended to eat one as a joke. We crossed the bridge. Then a very lovely guesthouse owner who had met us at high altitude on Krista’s birthday freezing cold and soaked in rain walked past us at super duper Nepali speed. As they do. We smiled, said “Namaste” (which translates to “I see God in you”) and moments later he spun round and gave us two Mars Bars. Now there my friend is Holiness. Krista laughed – “Well God certainly has a sense of humour” as we ceremoniously tucked in to our gifts, sat on a rock and admired the beautiful unspoilt nature around us.

I feel our beliefs have a very strong interpretation on our reality. It's a bit like advertising. And to see things truly I feel, we have to do a pretty good job at de-cluttering the space within and out. Kinda zen-like-present-moment-I-love-myself and let go of my past work. 

So I love The Universe, or God, or the world. Lets all be peaceful and awesome to each other and enjoy gifts in epic landscapes. More love and forgiveness of our 'stories' would go down pretty well right now whatever your colour, sexual orientation or religion.

I hope that's a fair and entertaining answer. The shortcut: Love is my religion and I express it through my actions aka. Karma. Not always perfectly but I'm always learning how to do it better.

And by the way, what a divinely timed question Anon. Next week I am doing a very special pilgrimage with my Mum: El Camino de Santiago in Spain. Stay tuuuuuuuuuned and thanks for reading me and pointing out the obvious... Big love to Jesus the Superstar... 

Along with all the other beautiful icons of worship... now try, the biggest challenge for me thus far, to love your reflection without conditions. 

Namaste Anon. Thanks again.

time for the population?

I worked for an agency amusingly titled 'The Population' many years ago (2008). This was the first and most awesome social media agency to bravely launch in Sydney before the plonkas at the top decided to merge it with another agency hugely culturally removed, without any integration, that every member of staff jumped ship.

(If you don't believe me when I say how cool we were, check out this naff little farewell video I threw together.)

While working there I did indulge myself with a little article on "The Stoop" which was the entrance way to our offices tucked away in Surry Hill's namely famous for Tony Thomas' encounter with a homeless lady taking a dump on the doorstep in broad day light early one morning. 

I thought I'd give that little article a home on Jectaspecta because its so lovely to remember a fun time in my career and a place that I felt quite inspired at. Especially because having been living a 'homeless/everywhere's my home' life since October 2011; I can relate a bit more to the hobo's of Surry Hills. I did manage my madness in nature though as she doesn't seem to mind if I poop in her jungle in broad daylight.

The Stoop really is a place for the diverse.
Commonly we have the socially neglected surry hills hobo’s hang out on our doorstep. So far I have noted a few categories of the characters who like to chill in our neighbourhood.

1. The guitar hero Nikki on her way to work one morning was met with a rather interesting display. A homeless dude enthusiastically playing on his air guitar in the middle of Foster Street, with his full head of knotted hair rocking to his imaginary sound. As a big rock fan, for her that was amusing if not a very bizarre out of context dejavu.

2. The Dozer This is the guy often found curled up in the fetal position nicely tucked on our front door step. One day my heart raced as I opened our rather large and heavy front door to leave work for the day when I found myself nearly stomping on the Dozer’s head with my booted foot! Little did he know as he continued to dream. What do you think hobo’s dream about? I suppose their points of reference would be very alien to many.

3. The Loud Mentalist I know, its not PC to go round calling people hobo’s or mentalists but you have to believe me when I tell you this one is relatively just! Unfortunately the Loud Mentalist frequents these parts very often, if not daily. He is the man shouting obscenities in his weathered voice relentlessly. This is usually well timed with a client meeting. I don’t know why. Perhaps we have just become accustomed to his constant bellowing that we don’t take note until we become aware of the circumstances through awkward sound effects to our social media strategies.

There are a few more characters who brighten our day and add an element of surprise at The Population. Of course it is sad seeing people looking desperate, struggling and not sound of mind but its also reassuring to see that the Salvation Army work really hard to make their lives easier and there is even a little commune who hang out with their brown paper bags on the Hub Store doorstep (this one’s much bigger than ours) who crack jokes and support each other.

Thought it would be quite topical to post the winner from Tropfest NY 2008, "Mankind Is No Island" by Jason van Genderen.

Peace and love to Tony, Ms Scaman, Nikki Johns-Stammers-Johns, Hayley Richardson, Benhamin, Julian Cole and Cate Mathers for bringing their dash of inspired madness to The Population mix and I am happy to say that I am still in touch with most of them who became really good friends despite my worldly and sometimes illusive hobo antics...

a day well spent

Broomhill hotel and sculpture garden is about passion and determination.  It is a beautiful place tucked just outside of my Dad’s guesthouse in Braunton; a mere bike ride away and well, many know I have a weak spot for bike riding. This lovely place tickled my inner Alice in Wonderland no end as I admired the stunningly inspiring sculpture garden and 'done for love' hotel complete with hanging art and curious pieces on display. Its a place of passion for collecting paintings and sculpture. A great spot for tea and an organic ploughman's while wondering in its gardens in awe with my first love, Dad.

The line that accompanies Broomhill is ‘the art of a well-spent day’. That is precisely how I felt after a day trip day with my Dad as I commented ‘this one’s going in the memory bank Pops’ and it has so much that I am writing about it.

With an exhibition in the gallery, numerous sculptures in the garden, a band performing for weekly jazz nights, Broomhill is a wonderfully inspiring project from the two owners that decided to bring their dreams and passions to life. As a place to visit in British Summertime; it made me happy. Artistic explorations in the woods accompanied by yummy outdoor gastronomic smiles, a bike ride and one of my favourite men's company. Ticked all the boxes. If you ever grace North Devon in the UK with your presence allow Broomhill to grace you too.

This place illuminates some of the cheesey catch-phrases I have found myself saying as I play around The Brookfield Guesthouse (which my very British Dad loves to tease me about); 'teamworks dreamwork', 'live to give' and 'sharing's caring'; 

"What would you say if those words didn't rhyme Jessica?" the old man says with more of a preference to acronyms such as "JFDI" for "Just F*cking Do It".

He's speaking to a lady who worked in advertising.

"You can't kid a kidder" I quoted back to him. That one's his.

me julie’s garden

"The best place to find God is in a garden. You can dig for him there." George Bernard Shaw

This summer as I returned to the UK for time with family and friends; I spent a good duration at The Brookfield; my Dad and second-mum’s guesthouse in Braunton, North Devon.

Besides indulging a game of backgammon or bike ride with the old man and yummy sunny luncheon with Julie, I also practiced a bit of goodness and worked at the guesthouse as its also a very busy time for them both. There I would learn how to do hospital corners on bed sheets and use a press iron.  One of the other skills I acquired was a spot of gardening.  

Gardening for me was always been a ‘pop it in a pot and give it water’ job for me and really my plants have been limited to houseplants beside the one time 7 years ago when I got a bonsai tree, went on two week ski trip and came back to it dead. A big lesson for me. 

Julie (my second mum) on the other hand, is an incredibly talented gardener as was her mum. So consequently her garden is a wonderful retreat to sit out in, flush with blooming colours and relaxing vibrations. I asked Julie what the key is to creating a stunning garden and she explained the importance of having “an eye for contrasts and textures, time and dedication” and her appreciation for continued learning while “discovering new plants”.

 What do you love about gardening? “I like to potter in my creations. To see new life develop from cuttings I’ve taken and to be able to pick fresh from the garden in order to cook”

Julie and I took out two trees from the root while we were in the garden. While such a simple task of digging a big hole, shaking the branches and yanking the roots with fierce determination – it was very, very satisfying and now Jules has space to plant some beautiful colourful flowers that give life as opposed to the old trees that were taking away the goodness...I will be leaving Julie’s garden inspired to do more.

london, you've got the love

You've Got to Love London from Alex Silver on Vimeo.

I love London. After spending nearly 3 months in England, I jumped in to London in her prime while summer sunshine reflected off her stunning goldlit buildings and bringing that natural glow to the otherwise white faces on a nation often swimming in its tears. London she played me and I played London.

In 2009 I wrote a blogpost aptly titled: London vs Sydney. it continues to get more hits than anything else I have written and frankly, I don't even feel the writing's that impressive. Nevertheless the title suggests something and of course it talks to our natural wish to compare. Whether we compare ourselves, jobs, homes, cars or the city we live in. Personally I feel a little stumped now when asked to make a comparison. I left London pale, overweight and stressed fed up with a lousy graduate job that hardly paid me enough to sustain myself and I was in the world of the corporate costumes; the ocean of black woollen jackets. A tough gig for colourful me.

Now in hindsight; I didn't give London a chance. She's a bad-ass when she wants to be and has an incredible art and culture scene. When the sun does disperse the clouds, London is a giant theme park for those that work hard enough to earn their playtime. And sometime's it feels that way. Living in major cities is no picnic especially in places where the sky sits so low, however, in my case, I skipped the shoddy weather and caught her in her prime. English summertime with real sunshine. People high as kites on life because they're seeing something they haven't seen for so long.

I can't compare two places anymore. It seems foolish to do so. I just think home is where you are happy. And what everyone is looking for is different. So I am delighted that after reconnecting with an old home, I am in love with London again and I look forward to visiting again in the future. Distance really does make the heart grow fonder.

"We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time." - T. S. Eliot

I am dedicating this post to one of the great inspirations in my life Fern Trelfa who is the yogini behind Super Cape-Abilities. I am proud to call her my friend and loved playing with her in shining London. We've always been a magical pair...

surviving a 'grown up' gap year(s)

I love it when I explain to people that I am travelling around the world and they respond "Oh have you just finished Uni?" Urm... nope. I'm 28 now complete with wrinkles. I was however the 'over-achiever' who believed all the lies and chased her way from Law degree to London Stock Exchange to Sydney advertising world and worked insanely hard with lots of determination to succeed. Ambitious little number I was but one that lost sight of her dreams.

That said I needed to work; I had a ridiculous amount of student debt to tackle and a ruthless determination not to depend on my parents for financial support after University. So my gap year was belated and aptly timed with my quarter-life crisis that involved breaking up with an amazing boyfriend and best-friend, leaving my wonderful mates, the beach view apartment and quitting my career in time to miss the award ceremonies whilst obsessively taking up Bikram yoga and herbal tea wondering what the hell I truly wanted in this life (thanks to friends for showing up at this time). I remember sitting down with my boss and mentor Andrew Wynne, after being at the company for a mere 9 months, explaining 'I have to go' as being one of the scariest things I'd ever done in my career. Incredibly and much to my surprise he said 'we'll have you back when you're done Jess'.

My 'gap year' has been more of a giant poop-my-pants leap year. And actually not really a gap year at all as it nears plural status. However, I can say that at 26 years old, my decision to leave pretty much everything to go on a journey of self-discovery and adventure until I 'run out of money' has been the best possible gift to myself. Incredibly frightful nevertheless especially as I initially allowed my inner child to take the reins. A bad-ass tomboy who likes extreme sports, rolling in nature, doing crazy things like getting lost up mountains, hanging out with rebels and inevitably one that had to relive a sense of self-abandonment. Strength in adversity proved true.

Being the change I wanted to see in the mountains

Nevertheless, self-psychosis aside, one thing I have realised is the limited ideas we can have when it comes to money. This question comes up a lot with people; "how do you afford it?". Well simply put: I give but not with money in mind. More for fun actually. It feels good to give doesn't it? And giving is more than money, its life's most valuable asset; time and effort.

By living in the giving and being detached from what comes back; This is how I feel I've walked into abundance. Of course money is practical, and a means of survival in this material world, but it is not the only thing we can offer in exchange for a positive experience in life. In fact, just being awesomely true to oneself and others has its benefits; people actually enjoy your company for one thing! And working from the heart on projects gives a natural high (look how much I am buzzing in this pic!) and genuinely giving a damn about the world in a hands-on way can reward in ways that transcend the illusion of 'give to get'.

I remember locals asking me whether I got paid to collect garbage (read my little PR rant here) and were somewhat confused when I said no, I do it for love (and garbage on the path kinda pisses off this British earth mother). And for me, obviously, it really isn't about making money - that's what I did to afford the journey in the first place and I'm committed to keep traveling until it runs out so I may as well make myself useful. Miraculously, it seems to stretch the less I worry about it and the more humbly I live. Importantly I've also learned to accept the kindness of others; which is difficult when pride kicks-in. I'd say the biggest miracle had to be when my tax accountant emailed me to say that I didn't have to pay him his fees and for me to see it as a contribution to my travels. When your tax accountant says that - you get busy!

If you are blessed enough to live within the top 5% of the world's richest (if you're reading this, that is likely to include you) then I hope this message resonates on some level. Some of the most inspiring people I have met were happy to trade their services or just happy to give in anyway they could. In fact the lovely circulation of seasonal clothing in the backpacker community is really awesome as is couch-surfing and that doesn't go to mention my surrogate family in Parvati family who were so humble that my heart is still broken.

I have also realised that real friends are the ones that want to see you shine. And I hope in a way I can make that happen for 'my crew'. I've loved being a photographer on adventures, making videos, offering strategic communications advice or just showing up when my intrepid soul brothers and sisters could do with a chat, cuddle, bed or a cook up.

You see something I have learned is true appreciation for life before anything else. The mere opportunity to be alive is pretty awesome not to mention to be born in a developed nation. Then I could go in to the things I am super grateful for: my family, friends and also importantly; me. I have truly proven to myself that I can grab life by the balls on my own. Eeeeek! Well ‘alone’ is really figuratively speaking as ‘no man is an island’ however, I have to remind myself that all I am left with is a bit of courage when things don't go to plan, I get seriously sick or my heart gets broken.

My surrogate family in remote Himalayas

And living a remarkable life does take the courage to face a lot of fears while learning to endure discomfort whether its cockroaches, an armpit of an Indian man on a local train, getting my backside pinched on a tourist bus, falling childishly in love with someone who doesn’t love me the same way, singing to an audience, racing boats in regattas, crossing the Atlantic as a chef(!) or presenting an online TV show. Yup. I actually experienced those things. All instances where I have had a daemon on my shoulder telling me some stupid story to take my power away as I faced some darker emotions that people don't see in the highlights reel: loneliness, vulnerability and shame.

Like kryptonite to Superman's soul the toxic self-talk and uncomfortable situations did nothing less than drag me down and yet challenge me once again to keep going when all I wanted was to hide away somewhere or 'fly home to Mum'. And no word of a lie, while I love a challenge there comes a point where peaceful surrender becomes the best resort to the battle. To embrace Lennon and let it be. To rise to the challenge with faith that whatever will be will be and work really bloody hard at ensuring that each day is still fully lived and each lesson is learned. That I show up to life despite its 'moments' and keep being positive because there's always something to smile about.


Traveling alone can be hard as hell. I’ve missed my family, my friends, my home comforts, my mind at times and I’ve even missed having a man to share those romantic moments with. However I know I have given myself space and time to get to know Jess, I've made some wonderful friends and learned to take full responsibility for 'me and my story'.

There are times when I really just want to find a base and hide away in a cave of comforts, a nice wardrobe, some pretty jewellery, a network of stable friends on my doorstep, have my family on call, my own kitchen(!), the routine and security of a 9-5 job but then I remind myself I have lived that life and will have the rest of my life to live it again one day.  So I'm keeping the dream alive while the Universe invites me to and working very hard to share as much kindness on the way while preserving my sanity i.e. knowing when to walk away. That to me is a much more powerful currency than money and a powerful thing to trust in through personal experience. Sadly an intellectual understanding of karma, philosophy and wise idioms didn't cut it for me… I had to learn it myself through some raw experiences.

So that's how I've survived my relentlessly changing and challenging world. The non-stop scenery and costume change of these last 22 months. I hope my sentiments aren't too self-indulgent. Perhaps they are. I have to write my ramblings somewhere and crazily people read my drivel (thanks if you made it this far).

But perhaps these words might even inspire someone to take life by the balls too, to follow their heart, live and give a little if not A LOT without being afraid of scarcity. 

G'waaaaan, what's the worst thing that can happen? 

It's not like we're getting out alive.

“Indeed our hearts are golden treasures, but a true tragedy would be to conceal your inner gold because you are afraid of someone stealing it or it falling and breaking. There is no love in fear. The great wisdom of the ages always tells us the more we Love the more of it you receive. Love is not a giving or a taking, it is a state of being – a one way street of allowing, accepting and holding a space for all things to be exactly as they are. 

Fear not that your heart will be broken or stolen. Love becomes love. Give it away with no expectation of return and soon you will be having a love affair with the whole world!” - Jackson Kiddard, author & polymath.

love is love. gay. straight. love.

My gorgeous friend Steve Marshall from Sydney went on holiday recently with his lovely boyfriend Rob. This video he shared captured something that really moved me. True love between two guys. It's a pity we live in a world where the crazy idea that two men or two women who love one another cannot possibly be entitled to the same rights as a man and women in union do.

"This is a video of my partner and I and some of what we got up to on a recent holiday to the USA. It’s just a video Rob created to show our family and friends what a great time we had, but I guess in addition to that, showed them just how much in love we are. We’re just two guys, travelling through life, having fun together – and perhaps anyone who saw this video who originally felt that our relationship was somehow different, or less valid than that of our heterosexual friends, would hopefully see that love is just love – regardless of who that love is between, and should not be viewed any differently by anybody, or any law, anytime or anywhere." - Steve

When I watch this video (admittedly a few times now) I feel so much love and joy. I hope you feel it too and if there ever was doubt in your mind about gay-love may I remind you that GAY also means happy. I hope we can live in a world with more of it. However it chooses to look.

Update: I saw this beautiful article on Upworthy of a mother's response to her son coming out on Facebook.

- Says it all really.

the polar bear connection

People who know me well enough will know that I have a 'thing' for Polar Bears. It is a little cringing. I sometimes liken it to Britney Spears' obsession with fairies and then I feel even more silly. However, I cannot deny that whenever I see stories about polar bears the child in me gets all soppy and wants to save them.

Standon Calling Fairies @ Super Cape-Abilities

My good friend Candice Quartermain (formerly Landsman) has a similar connection with killer whales and horses. She's really grown up so when the Britney Spears association makes me feel like a muppet I remind myself of 'Landice' and allow myself to feel cool and compassionate through her inspiration. Nothing wrong with loving animals after all. In fact fairies aren't even real (I am really sorry if that statement just killed one) but I mean... they're like not animals that need protecting. Admittedly I did meet a couple of fairies recently at Standon Calling music festival who granted me a wish by virtue of a glittery fairy dusting, so I shouldn't write them off... but well... they're not Polar Bears and they looked pretty happy and safe making capes to complement their wings and pink hair.


Now one of the most wonderfully illuminating realisations I've had on my travels has been the understanding of why Polar Bears are my 'favourite'...

As a child I went to Venezuela a lot to visit my mother's side of the family. There I would witness and perhaps even empathise with my father and uncles joy as they would be tucking in to the local Venezuelan beer... POLAR BEER. As you can imagine, this year I smiled a lot to myself as I, an adult, had the opportunity to embrace two loves at the same time; beer and polar bears. And now despite realising this personal conditioning and very amusing synchronicity; I still love polar bears. Obviously. They're awesome creatures.

Recently I read that polar bears 'may need to be fed by humans to survive', and my love and kinship for this giant mammal went to another level. I was heart broken at Berlin Zoo seeing Knut looking desperately misplaced and lonely and now seeing that it might take for Polar Bears to become a nuisance to mankind for the issue to really come to the fore really makes me wonder. Without adequate sea ice for enough of the year, bears will not be able to use ice as a feeding platform to hunt their favoured prey, seals, hence will be forced to spend more time fasting on land and posing a risk to human populations on the Arctic. The future's looking pretty bleak for this beautiful animal.

Global warming is directly affecting this animal's survival and no matter where you stand on the issue, it is safe to say that mankind is mostly ignorant to the idea of loving and protecting nature if our collective behaviour is anything to go by. I mean we do have a very unfortunate and shocking tendency to kill one another in big wars that we often don't fully understand the political undertones of.

On a very basic level, littering is a classic example of ignorance. I have found myself giving 'a look' to people chucking their waste on the street biting my tongue sometimes. Some people who claim to be 'spiritual' or 'awake' or 'in love with the world'... and of course this behaviour is unconscious, forgivable and another conditioning or lack of education and we can't be expected to be perfect human beings HOWEVER I suppose this wee polar bear is getting really disappointed with it... The question I find myself pondering is; will it take mankind to absolutely destroy this planet before we come to the realisation that we cannot eat money? 

And when that time comes... will polar bears already be dead?

I sincerely hope not. 


Dear God please can we not destroy it by nuclear activity, cockroaches (one of the few animals likely to survive) and I have a very, very strained relationship.