Back on track!!!

So I will be leaving Sydney for about a month, first to go to Melbourne to witness what everyone seems to call "the cultural center of australia". Apparently the art scene there is unbelieveable, and hopefully I'll be arriving in time to catch some performances of a few of the poets I met at the Woodford Folk Festival. I'm a bit anxious about leaving Sydney, since I've primarily used this city as my base and center for the past two months. But I'm getting itchy feet, and it's a sure sign that things need to start moving on. The ride down there should be an adventure, and I'm sure I'll have some great stories/pictures by the end of it all.

I'll then be heading over to New Zealand for about two weeks to examine what's happening along there. I'm pretty excited about going to Auckland, as it seems to have a quietly thriving poetry scene. I'll be meeting up with Renee Liang, and hopefully she'll be able to introduce me to the scene there. After staying in Auckland for a few days, I'd like to somehow figure a way to Christchurch and maybe (hopefully?!?!) get over to Milford Sound before I head back up to Auckland and fly out. Sadly, there is a rush, mainly because I have to get back to Sydney before the Night Words festival begins.

Nightwords boasts to be the first festival in sydney totally devoted to spoken word. It's being run at the Opera house, which should be amazing to see. Some of Australia's best performance artists will be there, including some returning faces from Brisbane. I'm quite excited.

I know I've been in a rut lately, and I'm starting to feel like things are getting back on track. It's hard to explain traveling alone for this long, it's a weird feeling. Somedays I wake up and I just want to hop on a plane and go back home. Actually, that happens most days. And then I start to feel like this whole thing was a mistake, that I didn't deserve this grant and they should've given it to someone stronger, someone who can deal with being alone better than I can. But, as I was folding the pages of a small poetry booklet I've been writing by hand, well, I can only describe it as snapping out of it. It was a physical snap too, like all the noise and commotion and worry that was in my head just switched off, and all I could feel was the paper in my hand and the sound of it folding. I've had that feeling before, often throughout my childhood and as I've gotten older just right after meditation. It's the feeling of being completely in the moment, of realizing that this is my life, not a story I'm reading or a poem I'm writing about my life. And I'm 22 years old and I'm halfway across the world and I'm doing what I love. And I realized that so much of my misery of late had to do with not being around what I love. Sure I've been hanging out in cafes and used bookstores, talking with poets and poetry fans, but I wasn't all there. It was like I was going through the motions without soaking it up.

Now I know why Ginny said I should be careful about burning out.

So I put on my favorite Taylor Mali album that has my favorite poem on it (the poem that, infact, inspired the poem I wrote for the Bristols when applying for this fellowship). And this weight was lifted. I don't know how long it will be lifted for, or even if there's anything I can do about it, but I'm just enjoying this new found relaxation now. I've got a slam happening on Tuesday, and a few interviews to do before I'm off to Melbourne. The feeling of adventure is slowly returning, the embracement of change, perhaps. And the acknowledgement of the endless possibilities in my life: that if I do want to return to any country, I can make it happen, somehow, if it was meant to happen.