Irish Beginnings...

Welcome one, welcome all!! We will be trekking around Dublin and other parts of Ireland through a short and hopefully sweet series of blogs about living, studying and travelling around this magical country. 

Let’s begin in the gorgeous capital, Dublin. For some she may appear to be an unorganised and industrial city, yet step onto the cobblestone streets with open ears, open eyes and an open mind and you’ll see that she holds a character like no other. Her grunge and rough facades have come from the hardship and sacrifice of her history and people, yet try not to label it as chaos, for there is a beauty in the cracked concrete and stain-glassed windows. With this, beyond the tourist mirages and Carroll’s gift shops, living in Dublin reveals another set of quirks to the city. 

Dublin is a captivating city. Regardless of the 2 hours of sunlight that happen some days and the frequent dribbles of rain, you get your warmth from the numerous cups of tea that people offer you and the melting central heating everywhere. Even better is that you can walk pretty much everywhere. I am living near the historic area called The Liberties, which is about a 20 minute walk to Trinity College and Grafton Street. It is a great place to live yet with most major cities caution and vigilance is needed. Nevertheless, it is a patchwork quilt of people, monuments and a strong fervour for history. 

As much as I’d love to just wander around for 6 months as a tourist, actually ‘setting up shop’ or settling in to Dublin can be a little bit difficult if you don’t know where to look. Moving from a catered college in Sydney, Australia, to a self-catered and alot more independent environment has been a big adjustment. My first night here was an experience to say the least. I had arrived late on a Monday afternoon and had thought that I would have enough time for the first night to run around to stores along Thomas Street and grab essentials like a doona (duvet), pillow, sheets and a towel. After almost 26 hours in flight and transiting, a shower and a good sleep is really all I was after. Due to my shock these homewares and knickknack shops were closed by around 5:30pm. Long story short, all I could find was an hand towel and a pillow. Drying myself and my hair with an hand towel wasn’t a pleasant experience but thank goodness for thermal clothing. I was so tired it didn’t bother me that I was wearing a thermal shirt, sweater, hoodie and coat, plus a pair of tights and tracksuit pants matched with thermal socks on both my hands and feet. My blanket was an oversized scarf. I think I was so cold partly from not being able to figure out the heater and also coming from 40-45 degree celsius days in Australia. I can appreciate the sun alot more whilst being here. Anyways, there is no use complaining about the weather when we can’t change it, let’s keep going!!

Now coming up next I’d like to make a few observations about my initial response to some of the small things about living in Dublin. 

There is a major difference in the supermarkets compared to Australia, here is what I have noticed so far;

• They are ALOT smaller than home, yet this doesn’t seem to make a major impact on cooking as Lidl and Tesco have become my life. I think I have been almost every second day since I’ve been here. Although there is not much of a range, they always to seem just what you need. 
• You have to bring or buy your own bags which at first seems annoying is alot better than having a bunch of plastic bags left over. Yet you have to bag everything yourself, no matter how busy the place is. 
• Also that there isn’t specific alcohol shops, but all of the liquor can be found in the supermarkets and convenience stores right next to your morning cereal or canned tomato.
• The fruit and veg are from far and wide none except for carrots and potatoes are grown in Ireland. For example I’ve bought tomatoes from Spain, kiwi fruit from Greece and grapes from Chile. Yet, all the meat is locally produced and sold both at the supermarkets and cooked in restaurants and pubs. 

This next section is more about miscellaneous things that I’ve noticed; 

• Almost all stores, except for H & M and Zara are not the same as Australia which makes it sometimes difficult but mostly exciting to try and navigate around and figure out what’s best for what. Fun tip, Penney’s will become your go to shop for clothes, shoes, homewares and weird gifts. 
• For school books, Hodges and Figgis is great, partly because it sounds like a bookstore that should be in Harry Potter. Yet for leisurely reading, quirky interests or my fellow bookstore browsers who find comfort in books, CHAPTERS is your humble abode!! It is a massive bookshop on Parnell Street on the North Side of the River where you can spend hours tickling the pages and smelling the second hand pages.
• Dublin is very much a student city, so get that student card as quickly as possible and there will be many coins saved from student food, venue and events discounts on offer both at the University and throughout the city. 

Now, I know I could have presented a blog that seems meticulously planned and rational but I suppose my sporadic observations match the incredibly haphazard beginnings to Dublin and Ireland that we all experience. These experiences will never be tightly organised into a plan or calendar but happen through an open mind, wandering with maybe a sprinkle of risk-taking and accepting challenges that present themselves. 

And on that note, I shall leave you with this; 

 If you ever get lost, just follow the River Liffey, it is like a natural compass. 

And so the Adventure begins...

Welcome back everyone, now make yourself comfortable. A massive apology should be sent out, hand-written with gold ink, wrapped in amazonian leaves and sealed with the tears of a unicorn, for how long it has been since I've written one of these. With the New Year I hope to be writing more and more about many different topics. Never mind the excuses and subplots, let's get straight into it!

I'd like to take you on a little bit of an adventure, only a small one to start with. I hope to take you away to another part of the world. I have arrived in Ireland, to live in Dublin, study at their best university, breath the Irish air, take a sip of Irish beer and walk through Irish hills and ruins. I hope to delve into some travel writing as well as other bits and pieces over the next 6 months.

Now block out the annoyance of the world and I welcome you to another realm...

You walk through the frail emerald mahogany door into a vintage emporium. It is a tiny second hand shop that has the dusty aroma that clings to old books and the earthy spices attached to leather. These books are filled with many stories, so many in fact the pages cough conversations and observations. Yet beyond the endless rows of romance, classics and fishing volumes, these are not what catch your gaze.

You find to your right, perched upon a copper singer sewing machine, a pair of brown boots. They are stained from the rain and mud. The grips on the bottom have started to wear out and the laces have tassels upon tassels. Lift them to eye level. Aren't they wonderful?

Now may you take them home for a generous price of $27.00. The older lady has wrapped them in parchment paper. You take them home without even trying them on, convincing yourself that even if they don't fit they'll look good on display.

Let's wear them. Your right foot fits perfectly, snug and warm like a cup of tea on a crisp morning. Yet something is stopping your left foot. It scrunches against your toes.

A note. Iron out those crinkles with your dewy finger tips. As you unfold the edges you see that it has been inked with these words;

'To the next wanderlust traveller,

These boots of mine are bruised and used,
they have trodden through great lands,
that are filled to the brim with great tales,
of lands with gruesome pasts and promising futures,
with people that speak in different tongues,
those that who are ancient and young,
ones with one god and many.
They have danced with people from forests
upon cobblestone streets and in a snowy haze.
Through sand dunes of the East and the quagmires of the West,
and at the end of the day are always hung up to dry.
They have known many sights, sounds, smells,
if you ask them nicely they may share them with you...'


Now reader, instead of simply listening to the tales, go and live them! Be the person who has worn these boots. Wear them until the sole is falling out and the laces have unravelled. Stay in touch for the next edition which will be hopefully of my tales around Ireland...



*photos are not my own.

Why History?

Why History? This is something I am asked all the time. Why couldn't I have been interested in something more practical? Something more modern? More stream-lined to a particular career? This is for all you who love history, those that share the passion for the past. This is for all of you who hate history, who would rather wait in peak hour traffic or watch paint dry, than read about the Titanic or Henry VIII's Field of Cloth of Gold, or Viking raids.

This piece of writing is pretty much me rambling about why I looooveeeeee studying, learning, immersing myself in history of pretty much any era. It isn't a scholarly deconstruction on history or the problems that occur with studying it. Anyways, so here we go. The only way I could simply describe the feeling is probably the same as when a painter gets new paintbrushes or a gym junkie finds a new protein powder; it's exciting. Yet I'd hope that history has a more meaningful impact on me than the protein powder or paintbrushes have for others.

It is fascinating collecting knowledge of the lives of people, how they interacted, lived, thought, acted and rebelled. History is a sort of intrigue and curiosity, the whys?, the hows? when? where? We investigate it, as Sherlock and Watson sleuth around a crime scene.  It is all about questions, and if we're lucky, sometimes they are answered. How were the pyramids built? Why did women wear corsets? What does the Great Wall of China keep out?

I could care less for dates, statistics and policies; History is not made up of numbers but of people, rebels, revolutionaries, day dreamers and night thinkers, sufferers, hardships and hope. The French Revolution was not important because it began in 1789, but because of the ideas it fought for, the legacy it left, that sketched a mark throughout Europe. Just as Leonardo Da Vinci's great inventions of the ball bearing and flying machine, the beauty of his paintings transcended his time.

                (The Vitruvian Man) 

The past seems to sit in a milky cloud, that we peer through often seeing the golden memories, the quirky abstracts that transform into novelties. Like how in the Georgian period noble women and men wore white face powders as make-up that were lead based some including vinegar and horse manure. Wigs were also popular because of the fear of lice. The next image is an eccentric wig belonging to Marie Antoinette.

History evokes emotion, for myself, I feel a patchwork quilt of emotions ranging from heart-wrenching sadness, to wild anger, to curiosity and happiness. The only fatal tragedy is that we can't change it...



                        "The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there." (L.P. Hartley)


History does boast a dark side. A side that ignores wrongs done, trauma that slices through generations and horrors across all continents that still remain unknown because of an unwillingness to accept the mistakes and abuses of our ancestors. Hindsight is such a luxury for us, we know what  has happened in the past, the overall picture of a narcissistic ruler that systematically destroys or the dominating coloniser that destroys the peace of first peoples. We remove emotion and raw tragedy with academic examination, scholarly intrigue and judgement-- some don't care for the people.  History is such a powerful force because us in the present are handed with hindsight to stop what has previously happened. Yet many people abuse it, will mimic the mistakes, galvanise the failures and wrong doings of the leaders to roll them over into our time. It takes courage to combat this. The courage of the Suffragette Movement of the 19th and 20th centuries and the rebels of the Easter Uprising of 1916.

It makes you grateful for how far we've come, for example in the Western world the advancement of women and Indigenous rights, but even though we're thankful for the progress, it makes some people complacent, they stop continuing this progression that has clearly not finished. History has walked with us thus far, yet we have many more journeys to go.

History will always be relevant and important. We will always be cherry picking into the past for reasons to explain the present and change the future. We will always try to chase back with nostalgia for the 'good ol' days'. And I don't think I'll ever stop chasing. I've always been told I was born in the wrong era, and I intend to keep exploring that world as closely as possible...

Stay curious...

Hello everyone, now I know we have all aged since my last post, but hopefully this will make up for the new found wrinkles and grey streaks in our hair. As you may remember or are yet to read, my last post was about the tingles and stirrings of happiness and excitement that adventure can brew. This week we will take a step back. Let's retreat under our blanket cubbyhouses and fairy lights and delve into the realms of curiosity and inner adventure. Within your clouds of blankets I hope you can enjoy these snippets of adventure, imagination and curiosity to be flown away to someplace different.

Curiosity involves a little sprinkle of risk taking. To be curious is to reach out and roll around in something that is unfamiliar. To fall in love with being alive, not through square screens with the swipes of apps but in what inspires, enraptures, challenges and makes us curiouser and curioser.

Now, I confess that I'm not the one for major risk taking. I'm yet to jump out of a plane or spring from a cliff, but risks can start with trying things that are fresh, new, outside your personal comfortable bubble. Try a piece of that spicy food (although it might singe your tongue), eat those marinated insects and snails or even something as simple as watching a film with subtitles. By all means though, go jump out of a plane if you want to... let me know how it goes. 

Moving on, remember our surroundings can provide us with pots and pans full of curious imaginings;

You curve and coil, then stretch and dive as if a wave. You have a mind of your own, making your own choices, at points feeling serene, bobbing cheerfully yet you also go through tough times in a violent dance with the cliff. But the sea salt always sits on your lips and crystallises in your hair. 

You are an autumn leaf that floats away giggling like a carefree toddler with twirls and curls choreographed by the breeze. Moving left and right, up and down, wondering about your surroundings until you find somewhere comfortable to land. Until the next breath moves you, you rest until next time.

If the brown boots of your travels would speak, the tales and fables they possess would allow you to delve back into these adventures. Where some moments have been swallowed into the gapping mouth of forgetfulness. Imagine the stories your shoes would hold?

You are the 10 cent coin that has found a place suffocated between receipts and business cards.  Your current master fails to spend you on tipping a waitress or to a homeless person. Your previous masters have been a florist, a priest, a truck driver and a surf instructor, to name a few. Who will you be passed onto next?

You are this girl, carefully amazed by the cloudy white of a pearl. How could something so pure be trapped beneath the spikes of a shell and the force of the ocean?

Your days that are constant can sometimes be reassuring but is it really something that you want to continue? Sitting at work, at a desk, with the vibrating twangs of phone calls? The continual worries about washing, ironing, the gossip of about the unnecessaries, for we a simply stardust, with absolutely no need for rudeness and unkindness. Now may these be gone and take notice of the weird and random things throughout your day, in particular the little things. I was sitting on the train that shakes like ice in a cocktail shaker and noticed that my hands are coated in porcelain triangles wedged together.

Find through the noise, the embers that whisper your purpose, waiting to be enflamed into a bonfire!

Now I have a plan, for you who want to build your inner crusade for curiosity. Yet the beauty of this inward expedition is that it can begin with the calmness of you, sometimes as simply as staying in your home. Keep asking yourself the whats? whys? hows? and wheres? Also, start with these steps that will let your brain take three deep breaths, start with these and you will enjoy what is simple that is enchanted with tranquility. Start with these and your sense of curiosity will flower. 

* Read at least 20mins every day (or every second day). It's the only way to trek abroad, meet new people, see new cultures and worlds for almost under $20.

* Switch off all electronics for 1-2days.

*Go outside and savour some sunlight before the artificial glare of indoors is all we can get at work and school.

* Even indulge in the splendour of our own private space. Our own castles and four poster mahogany beds without the knocks of annoyance and rudeness.

*Be grateful and empathise with others. Not talking about yourself all the time can unlock something as magical and simple as kindness.

* Don't compare yourself to others. As the wise philosopher Dr Seuss penned "Today you are you, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is you-er than you. Shout aloud, I am glad to be what I am. Thank goodness I'm not a ham, or a clam, or a dusty old jar of gooseberry jam. I am what I am, what a great thing to be. If I say so myself, happy everyday to me!".

* Write a handwritten letter to someone who you care about, lace it with love, sprinkle some humour and make people smile with words.

* Read, watch, write and do something you love in a small or big way every day. Go for a walk to your favourite place, take up photography, go see a movie or live performances. Escape from the superglue of monotony.

Be curious; this world is a puzzling place. It is curiosity that allows us to piece it together.

Adventure is out there...

Ahoy readers of all ages, sizes, hair colours and fruit preferences. Today's edition will take us all on a bit of an expedition. I will hope to explore the excitement and joy around adventure. Yes 'adventure is out there' and we don't have to go to the other side of the world to find it... it could just be right outside our glass, wood and gauze doors.

I have been incredibly grateful to see some beautiful places around the globe. From the beautiful autumn tones of country NSW with the warmth of wood fires that soon follow, to the peaceful tropical gem of Kiribati, with the people making up for their small land mass with great smiles and welcoming hearts. And from the bedroom-sized pubs of Dublin to the Vatican, where even the rugs and lampposts are imbued with a sense of spirit.

For those who have been recurring readers (thank you), you may recall my diary entries of my travels to the UK with my brother. These have been experiences that have become the flint that strikes my wanderlust. I'm sure a lot of people here share this feeling; a little stirring that sits between your stomach and heart when someone mentions a famous landmark, a specific cuisine, an historical period or plane flight deals; we are willing to drop everything, fly away and be immersed in another part of this world.

                                                           Have we all got our tickets?


                                                                   Let's go exploring!



I do admit it is easier sometimes to just waste away our weekends in bed, scrolling through food videos or celebrity interviews. But this is unbelievably boring. Do rest, when needed. But imagine spending the rest of your free days thumb-tacked to the sticky lounge or a springy bed. Game of thrones may be captivating for a moment, but I doubt in 40 years you will sit there thinking of the times you binged watched it across a week of the holidays whilst others were trekking through national parks or having brunch somewhere new everyday.

The best way to start is to go to some local markets. Food, fashion, quirky gifts and collectibles are the usual residents of these events. Depending on the market and your budget $20 or a bit more, should get you something different and yummy. From personal experience these are hubs of hipster moustaches and rounded clear glasses that sell second- hand denim jackets and overalls. Next door may be miniature succulent plants in teacups and small terracotta pots; reminding you on when you were a kid and would imagine a fairy realm tickling the tops of the leaves. Across from the little village of winged creatures, could potentially hold organic bars or cupcake wrappings of vegan, paleo, vegetarian, herbivore and everything in between, chocolate cakes... each to their own. All the meanwhile, the acoustic strum and angelic hum of a musician plays, twisting and twirling modern pop songs with an alternative edge.


In normal day to day life, another way to explore is to... wait for it... actually have a conversation with a random person. Whether it's a customer at work, a shop assistant, uber driver, person next to you on the train, a simple chat can broaden your outlook. I've had many conversations that start with a comment on the weather, that I usually finish with 'oh well, we can't change it' and then turns to people's travel, heritage and where and what they recommend in the world.


 I know it can be hard, but start by putting your phone down, making eye contact, smiling, then say hi!! Easy right??

Now if these levels seem a bit mediocre for some of you then a day or weekend trip away, may be another adventurous option. Pack a duffle bag with the essentials, book a hotel, hostel, motel, Airbnb, caravan, tent, swag or whatever for a couple of nights and jump in a vehicle and voila your trip has commenced. With this expedition I do recommend taking others with you, just so you know exactly what train to catch, have someone to talk to and you have another's toothpaste because you've forgotten yours. It's a profound experience being completely captivated by your surroundings. Turn off connections with the modern world, except a radio that plays some nostalgic tunes and simply sit beside the smouldering embers with a water's edge continually kissing the land in the distance. A book always helps aswell.


Laughter is exponential, stress descends to nothingness.


And, I'll tell you the best part... lying down and gazing above to the crystals that dress the whole sky. The constellations start to tell stories when you read them enough. They speak the stories of many cultures and religions. A sparkling ceiling that you share with every being in the world.


In other news, I will cast out to you, that it is completely okay to create adventures all by yourself. Sometimes this is the best way to spark your thoughts and creativity. Explore cobblestone streets and market stalls without having to worry about talking too much, or not enough to the other people with you. Switch off the pop songs that blast through your earphones, and let your mind wander. Think of the people that once lived here, what did they do? what did they wear? How are we different? Could you live like this? Explore those quaint museums and second hand shops, wind around the river or climb to the tree canopies. Buy a random and unnecessary keyring or bobble-head. Take pictures but not too many, you want to experience these incredible places through your eyes not the manufactured lens of a camera.

Now, lastly, before I leave you all to go off to go crazy (in your adventures); my idea of an ultimate adventure is to go off and simply wander and explore, new and exciting places. You may have a different idea of adventure, but mine is to put on a pair of brown boots with worn laces, a pair of jeans and a jacket and stroll around the cobblestoned streets of other cities and countries. Following the cross layout of a Gothic Cathedral encircling the altar with a motley rainbow of stained glass windows and the whispers of visitors and worshippers. The climbing of hundreds of stairs to have a surrounding view of an ancient city or landscape. To hear and attempt to speak the language, whether French, Italian or another, waiting with baited breath to see if they understood you. Attempting cultural cuisines, like snails and local beer. Tasting and touching the snow of another continent. And as a self-confessed history obsessor, to transport myself to the past of the locals; imagining how a 12th century nun spends her days at Montecassino Abbey or the secrets spread in the castles of Medieval Scotland.  The hundred year old terrace houses that capture like photographs, the stories of hope and heartbreak of those who lived in them. A constant period drama loops in my mind as I weave through these places that to some may be archaic, but to me are treasure troves of yesteryear.


Keep in store for the next expedition which we will embark on the exploration of ourselves. Day to day doings of the mind; what enraptures and captivates us.

Even for you homebodies out there, try to get out and explore something different. Even if it starts with trying something different at your favourite restaurant or reading a different genre or getting the bus to the other side of town. It doesn't have to be a world wide travel journey (although that would be nice)...

It's all out there to be gazed upon. Make a promise to embark on your own exploration

I'm stuck...

Welcome back,

I know, I know, I know, it's been a very long time and I send my apologies as I have both a lot of assessments with a ladle worth of writers block. But fear not, as I hope to throw together bits and pieces, knicks and knacks of words that will hopefully cure me from this plague of writers block!!


I'm stuck
wedged
constricted by this
overcast of needing to write,
yet, I have nothing.

Like a freshly-painted classroom wall
before the kids come and create;
they draw, whether crude
or imaginative,
and the wall is no longer bland.

Like a pot of boiling water
before the parent drops
everything from the cupboard
with a splash, spray to excite
the simple liquid with
a spoonful of culinary colour.

Like the clean foot paths
and picnic tables,
until Autumn arrives
bringing the breath of falling
leaves to lay
a patchwork of oranges and reds.

I'm still lost
searching for the right
words to string together
and hang upon my walls
to glisten and shine
for others to read.

                              *                                               *                                             *

                                                     

Dear Reader, 

Yes I bought a typewriter the other day…

I’m hoping it will help me with this little problem I seem to have, where a massive sandstone block is sitting and squishing on the creative lobe of my brain. I am slowly chipping at it with a pick and cutlery, yes I am using a spoon and a fork, to try and come up with something a bit more riveting than an essay about society and culture with a million and one references. 

This old (not ancient) piece of machinery has been at the ink stained fingertips of excited writers, poets, film makers, artists etc. as they transport their ideas from the convoluted maze of their thoughts to a structured, together and tangible A4 page. 

The Great Gatsby was at times whispered or yelled by the keys of the typewriter. F.Scott Fitzgerald in a frenzy of words shares the ash from his cigarette that has hung in his mouth for months with the keys. Filmscripts for Hollywood cinema, Wizard of Oz and Citizen Kane had been words before moving pictures. The sparkling crimson red of Dorothy's shoes were described with black and white materials before the heels hit each other in technicolour. 

Its clinks, clanks and bings are satisfying to a creators ear, with a sense of excitement and trepidation. You can’t as easily erase your mistakes. They are glorified and adapted not erased and forgotten. 

Who knows maybe I’ll discover something amongst the red and black rolls of ribbons and the harshness of the keys? 

I’ll keep you posted, 

Sincerely, 

Apprentice of Writing…

                                         (mine looks nothing like this, but hopefully one day)



                    *                                                         *                                                     *


I think I know what will cure my writer's block;

• A plane ticket 
• Fake gold embodied note books that you can get from any good bookshop.
• The scenery of the Scottish countryside near a Loch.
• A pen. Not just any pen. One that when you pick it up it becomes apart of the movements and contortions of your hand. The words seem to glide not from your hand but straight from the magical ink of the pen. 
• Dublin would be nice!
• New typewriter ink. Just as a back up. 
• A comfortable chair back home under the warmth of the sun with the grass a bit to high and the dog bouncing around. 
• A teacup with floral patterns. Maybe a matching saucer but can be bargained. 
• A cafe in Europe somewhere, anywhere. 
• Endless supply of Dad's pumpkin soup or Saturday soup. 
• Unlimited access to Westminster Abbey and the Tower of London. 

Feel free to be generous and give to another! 

Thankyou for your help, I hope you enjoyed the ride. 

If you've kept up with this saga of writing, never forget to 'Embrace your weirdness' and check off your own list. I promise to try and be a bit more active. Enjoy, laugh and smile...

Embrace your Weirdness...

Be it weird and wonderful, bizarre and beautiful, you and I need to embrace our quirky qualities!!


Pick them off the floor and pin them above your bed. Smile and wave at them when you wake up, take them with you throughout the day, show them to others whether they are your friends or new faces that you come across. Keep them close to you at all times and at night when you attempt to sleep or if you are lucky enough to dream, pack them away under your pillow case for the morning. Mould and craft them if need be, with a pinch here and there, but don't, please don't change them too much, because once they are lost, I'm afraid, they may never be rediscovered. Sew new patches on top of old, with bright pops of canary yellow and emerald greens, gloomy blacks and dessert oranges, until you have a patchwork of colours and textures. Once you have your collection of oddities display them in your own life exhibition, to let everyone discover you. I don't mean the person they briefly say 'hi' coming back from class or at work, but the person they can talk to hours upon hours about the most random of topics, with no questions asked.

If people question your stencils and patterns, don't listen to them! If they mock and insult your choice of baby blue or the way the rough velvet matches with the silk, ignore them! They do not deserve to even glimpse at the workings of this creation for they may either be far behind, or haven't even started their own yet. Use their negativity and convert it through your sewing machine to help your piece gleam with uniqueness.


By all means I am still in the planning and creating stages of my patchwork of quirkiness, but I do believe I already have compiled throughout these 20yrs alot of fabrics, colours and textures that mix and match with each other. One day my project will be completed, but that's far from now.

This is what my collection includes currently;

• When drinking tea, there must be a perfect balance between milk and hot water. Personally, this means just enough so the tea is warm and does not scald your tongue when drinking with the colour of an almond. 
• I know the complete playlist of George Ezra's album off by heart as I have played it on repeat no less than 1000 times in the 3 yrs since its release. And I am almost at fangirl mode as I will see him in concert in July.  
• When in conversation I tend to say random historical facts about anything that mostly is related to the topic of the chat, but also can be very random at times. Like the fact that in many English Medieval Courts they used to eat peacocks and would have polar bears as pets!!  Interesting hey?!? 
• I may have a bordering obsession with James Dean that has flourished over the last few years. For you who don't know he was an actor in the 1950s and made 3 films, died in a car crash in his aluminium car named 'Little Bastard' in 1955 after filming Giant... I could keep going but for your sake I'll stop now. If you have any questions I'm more than happy to answer them!!! 
• My sister and I have seen Moulin Rouge and Grease so many times, that quotes from them sneak into our daily conversations which most of the time no one understands.

• I spent between $50-$100 (actual price will not be disclosed) on an ink quill as an impulse buy. 
• I sometimes make weird facial expressions and noises when talking. They just seem to happen randomly sometimes but I just go with it and people laugh :D I think it's me just laughing at myself. 
•  And I am never, NEVER!! Able to take a nice looking photo when posing on the first, second, third or every single shot !! I'll smile but then the photographer is taking too long so my face starts weirdly twitching or I'll be doing something at the moment the camera flashes. And I'm always mid-blink aswell, even if we're not in the sun. 
• I have a peculiar variety of interests, mostly that I love music and movies from the 50s-60s and all bits and bobs that are 'out there', retro and vintage, like my numerous teapots, fob watches, wax stamps for letters and my record player. I'm also hoping to add a proper typewriter to this collection. Perhaps this is my biggest quirk, that I am an old and eclectic soul. 
• Downton Abbey, Peaky Blinders and Call the Midwife are without a doubt cinematic masterpieces in the television realm. Second to them is Love Child, and almost or period (historical) dramas. Enough said!! Everyone needs this viewing experience! 
• Some people might have an athlete or politician as an inspiration but mine is legitimately Miranda Hart. She is wonderful, weird, very bizarre and British. 
• I also have a love hate (mostly adoration) for books shops. Mostly because I never seem to be able to leave a bookshop without buying something, or if I did have enough stamina to break free of the words and pages that are screaming for a reader to free them from their mundane shelves, it's because I couldn't decide what to get, so nothing it is for now...  
• Every time I tell a story to someone I never do the old 'long story short' method, I tend to go into unnecessary detail that side tracks sometimes from the actual point, but I'm just adding interesting detail.
• My most used word/phrase seems to be either 'Buddy' or 'Oh dear' which I say sometimes without even realising. But do not fear I am working on paying more attention to my use of the first word. 

Nevertheless, over my 2 decades of living, I have acquired these weird, bizarre characteristics that I am happy to keep, store and grow for the next however many decades. These are just a few examples that I can think of right now as I perch myself in a procrastination daze whilst looking over the ever growing Sydney Skyline. If any friends and family are out there who have any more weird facts/qualities they notice of me, let me know so I can cut them and add them to this patchwork.

For you, who is reading this. Have you started your weirdly wonderful creation? It's never too late to find those colours and fabrics and start sewing them together with a needle and thread. For one day you'll have a conglomeration of colour and quirks, textures and tastes, fabrics and layers of rarities...

Miranda Hart

James Dean