…of false starts and frustrations, pt. 1.

Two posts. That’s all it took. Two posts – one of them only really there for the purpose of testing linking images from flickr – before I felt the need to rip it all down and start again. To tear the pages out and save the notebook for another day.

By now, I’m think you’re probably starting to understanding why I chose the title I did.

Today was not a good day. In fact, you could probably stretch that out to the week. For reasons I won’t go into here, what started with good intentions ended with a good kilometre stretch of nicely paved road to you-know-where.

Plans of daily Wii-fitting and nightly salads have quickly turned to a desperate need to be as horizontal on my couch as possible, for as long as possible. While at work, at around eleven a.m. today, the thought of curling up in front of the T.V. entered my head, and then, would not leave. Needless to say, the rest of the day was less than productive.

As a kid – and until rather embarrassingly late in life – I was under the impression that cancer made your hair fall out. I consider myself very fortunate when I say I’d not ever had any friends or family members who ever had cancer, so my only exposure to the disease was when I saw it on television. And since the television I watched was never all that high-brow or true-to-life, stories that revolved around a character being diagnosed usually went something like:

Doctor: “You have cancer.”

Cut to: Character in hospital wearing a scarf or hat, signifying their hair had fallen out.

So, in my brain (and I was going to say ‘child like’ brain, but that would suggest it’s somehow different to how it is now), I put one and one together and got “cancer makes your hair fall out”. I don’t really know where I was going with that. To be honest, it’s a far less embarrassing than admitting I thought Barkley for Sesame Street was a real dog till I was around ten.

…of false starts: these things we start – or that perhaps start us – that refuse to be finished. The unexpected end to best laid plans. The result of good intentions.

… and frustrations: the feelings we find on the unfinished road, when all we can see is all that could’ve been. The disappointment. The anger.

And where to from here? I do not know. Perseverence, I guess. Perhaps more road anaolgies?


…of photos and fancy ambitions

Originally uploaded by tobiasampersand.

One of my favourite photos from my first Tour of Duty in Cape Town – something I’ll talk more about later. Taken on a day tour through several townships not at all far from where we were staying.

And if I was a better tourist, I’d be able to tell you where exactly it was taken, and the name of the township. But I’m not. So you’ll have to make do with the picture I’m afraid.

I’ve realised recently I really enjoy taking photos, and it’s probably something I should do more of. Like most of the photos I take, very little thought went into this. Camera was on auto, and I pointed and clicked. Which, reading it back sounds like I think I have some sort of natural photo taking ability. I don’t. But I do seem to be good at happy accidents.

I’m not a religious person by any stretch of the imagination, but there’s something uplifting about a Church in a tiny shed. Something about reminding us to do the best with what we’ve got,

… of New Years and New Beginings.

We hope you enjoy your stay
It’s good to have you with us,
Even if it’s just for the day.

The Killers.

I’m still in two minds about this whole “online presence” thing. I mean, I understand why people do do it – or, at least I think I do. My uncertainty is more that, I’m not still sure it’s the thing for me. And you may well glance to the right and see links to my twitter, last.fm, flickr and .mac account and scoff, and well … yeah, ok that’s fair.

All told, this will be the fourth attempt at an online journal for me (I am – for now – rejecting the use of the ‘b’ word), and I do honestly hope it sticks. But, I also know me, my notoriously short attention span, and propensity for not finishing the things I start. Sometimes I think I’m more anamored with the idea of creating and starting a journal, more than I am with updating it.

Which – and I don’t mean to jump on the Dr. Phil train too early in this process – I know stems back to my childhood. As a kid I would collect exercise and notebooks with the intent of filling them with epic tales of I-don’t-remember-what. Amazing intentions, only I’d usually get distracted not long after starting and, consequently, I would end up with piles of books with one or two pages filled, then nothing. Occaisionally I’d tear the used pages out and try to start the book again, but I’d never get much further than the last attempt.

Jump to 22-ish years later and not much has changed. I’ve spent more time here trying to refine my stylesheet than I have writing anything of worth. Building books cover first – much like some kind of Ed Wood picture. Only, I’ve not go anything as exciting as a monster preying on young teens as my inspiration.

At least, I don’t yet.

So, in a effort to get things moving, I’ve settled on an “it’ll do” design, and figured I’d try and get some words in here for now. Something I’ve not done in a very, very long time. Here’s hoping that these won’t be the pages I’m tearing out in two weeks when I decide it’s time to start again.