b r a v e c r e a t u r e s

I am not sure what I expected from this weekend in Madrid. I was planning to see some sights, get some sun, go to a few parties and enjoying hanging out with my friends. All of that happened of course, although in the end I only went to the Saturday night party, Infinita.

The rest of the weekend I spent hanging out with two new mates I met here. Two days full of laughter and conversation. They have gone now and I need to start packing - and its weird how empty my apartment feels.

When people click, its amazing how quickly they become part of your world. One lives in London, the other here in Madrid - but I have no idea when I will see them again. But I will.

As Miss Crawford says - Endings are beginnings, Beautiful Things.

12 months.

12 months I have been in Europe. I arrived here last year just in time for Europride in Madrid. I came here from Melbourne, from winter and darkness, sadness and woe. I came with my self esteem just reconstructed after a dire few years.

I came here to Madrid, one of the proudest, most regal cities in the world, to sunshine and summer, friends and excitement and warmth of all kinds.

And since then I have been happier than I can remember.

Oh not mindless, unexamined happiness. There have been ups and downs, annoyances, trouble and a little strife. But the abiding impression I have is of happiness.

So this year I have come back to Madrid to celebrate the anniversary of my arrival here, on this continent, in this new life. My return from the moon where I had allowed myself to be cast out. My return to myself.

Last night I had dinner with a few of the people who greeted me to this new life of mine. New friends and old. We ate and laughed; joked and teased each other (as is the way of my clan); flirted and lavished physical affection.

Now I am back from outer space. I love it here, and I intend to stay.

So , the picture I have in the corner. I have been asked a number of times who took it and what I am smiling at. I have been told that I look happy and I have been asked why - well there is a story to that.

There is another one, that my now-ex took of me took, they ex who did such a effective job of breaking my heart. Its of me laying on my back smiling. And everyone loves it of me.

They tell me I am so happy, appear so in love and it glows from me. I was - It did - that time is now past.

I wanted another one - that glowed as much, that was just about me.

So when I was in Rio, first couple of days there, I was up early and the sun was streaming in, past Corcovada. I was happy and at peace and at rest and at ease - with myself and my life, and I wanted to capture that. So I lay on the sofa and using the timer took a couple of pictures - only 2 or 3, and that was one of them.

I really like the picture, and I think it captures me now - grey in my beard, a few wrinkles, a bit of sun damage but smiling and looking out to the world with a measure of joy.

And thats the story of that picture.

Last week was beautiful.

Stunning weather, light into the evening and the smell of spring in the air.

Then the weekend came and all that changed. Suddenly it was cold again - so cold in fact I got my first experience of snow in London. It was beautiful. I sat on my front stoop for about 30 minutes in the cold - rugged up and watching the snow fall softly on the streets of Marble Arch where I live.

Quiet and peaceful and cold - you wouldnt want it all the time, but for that one morning it was pretty magical.

As aways, the regular newsletter creates a flurry of email activity, which in turn takes me a while to respond to. I am working through it though.

One thing did strike me, and it was in the sig file from a mate in Australia. It does sum up how I feel about life and the absense of this thinking is central to the things that I am now very glad to have left behind in Australia*.

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, Champagne in one hand - strawberries in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming WOO HOO - What  a Ride!

As much as I do love this phrase and see it as a philosophy, its exactly the sort of thing my mother would say - in fact I think she has sent it to me in the past. So I am continuing to sound like my mother. This is not HUGELY surprising, but it is a little disturbing.

* There are lots of other things from Australia that I am not glad to be without including (but not restrictred to) my dog Saxon, David "The Boy Friend" Chapman, Bitchie Barbie, Penny, Al, Avi, Sunday brunch at Ice and my Art work.

Ok people. Its April 1st - and London has turned on a 10 p piece. Grey winter is falling behind and spring is welling up all over the place.

Last night I was in Covent Garden at 7pm and the last of the sunlight had not yet faded. People were laughing, discussing dinner plans and enjoying the pulse of the city.

London is at last coming out from under its grey winter doona because suddenly the weather has turned and the days are long again. Summer is coming - hooray.

I have survived my first London winter, and all is right with the world. 

At long last I have written another letter to friends.

It's been a long time coming, but there has been so much life to live, I have had a little trouble chronicling it.

But here it is at last….