Franti-liscious

A gig I needed and felt to the core. Michael Franti has a way with me (& clearly many others) that tantalises my very centre of being. He brings heart, beauty, music and life to every performance. Yesterday started with sunrise at Bondi and ended with a teeth-filled grin that couldn’t be wiped from my face.

I’m not sure whether it was the onslaught of a lunar eclipse on Saturday night and the energy change that comes with that or the awareness of a past love, still very much in my heart, closer at range than has been for months, but this past week has been a fragile one for me. I needed a life force to reckon with my unsteady stance. Enter Michael Franti!

When a gig starts with an acoustic yoga session, includes a mosh dance mania and ends with the musician staying on for the closing radio music as he noticed the crowd continuing in an impromptu sing-along to Arrested Development’s “Everyday People”, you know you’re in good hands.

There’s a reason Michael Franti was one of my relationship ‘outs’. He exudes an energy that overwhelms and induces the heart to feel for everyone around you. I remember seeing him introduce his documentary, “I Know I’m Not Alone” at Sydney Uni years ago. He was standing on stage barefoot with his son wrapped around his legs as he explained why he created this film on the Middle East. I was in the front row and already knew his music with Spearhead but now saw his yearning to use his skills in music to delve into our interactions in the Middle East.

So he went over to Iraq, Palestine and Israel with very little plan, but his guitar and a camera crew. The result is beautiful and telling of a different side of the story from both the inhabitants of these lands as well as the military personnel involved. He was moved by both sides of the story, as was I.

What am I on about? I went to this gig on my own and was engulfed in those around me. It seems Franti has found his path to share what he knows and enrich lives. You can feel he's on the right track, while I have no false sense of perfection in his life. He told his story of adoption, life from a mixed race, and his adopted mother’s strength to raise fulfilling, honest and accepting adults. You’ve done a good job Carole!

There’s happiness and sadness everywhere around us. Taking the day and filling your cup with beauty is a treasure. I’m reminded again of our innate need for love and that comes in many different forms. For me today, it’s music, friends, and giving back that which I have to give.

Thank you to the beautiful people that passed through my life over the past week, filling it with happiness and love. And to those that I shared last night’s gig – bliss!

Today is another day and what I can do with this energy boost is still unclear but I’ll harness it, share my thoughts and embrace it! Maybe it’s time for another salt water swim – off to the beach.

Peace and love to all you hippy folk out there – “you make the beauty of the world”.

#MichaelFranti
#Soja
#allthefreakypeoplemakethebeautyoftheworld

The Dali Dilemma

I know, I promised updates, stories and news of adventure….then I dropped off the planet for a few months, but alas, I’ve been busy. No excuses, but here they are anyway: I got a new job, flew home to the States for the holidays on a whim’s notice, returned to start the new job, moved my stuff in from storage after 2 years and found a new flatmate – schwee, it’s allot, you must admit!

So yes, 2015 started with a bang and I’m not getting off the happy bandwagon anytime soon. As for today’s tale, I couldn’t decide which story to tell first so I’m publishing them both in combination as the “Dali Dilemma”.

What does that mean? Well if you know Dali (& WHO doesn’t know Dali?!), he can be described as a man with a very obscure way of looking at the world. Whether melting clocks, meshing multiple images into aligning frames, or even forecasting the Microsoft logo (check out the right side of the Lincoln piece), he is a genius. The ‘dilemma’ side of the story is whether to take a job for money or for meaning, which were my options at the end of 2014. Combining the two, you have a view into two different directions with multiple different outcomes. 

While I was in Florida, my Mum and I had a day at the Dali Museum (the largest collection of his works in the world; if you haven’t been, I highly recommend it). On this particular occasion, there was a special exhibit of Picasso and Dali which simply blew my mind. Both artists, although proven in their field, may not be everyone’s sip of whiskey. But if you see their early works, you know that these men mastered the traditional art forms before moving on to create their own space in time. 

Setting their works side by side, I was mesmerised even more so with Dali and his talent. Dali teetered in life on the brink of insanity yet his art manipulated minds and body to extreme awe of fashion. 

As for my dilemma of whether to take a job for money or meaning, it seems a more simplistic divergent than art or insanity but ultimately the act comes down to options. I gathered opinions galore as I travelled down the road of choices where some said, “Take the money and run!” and others pushed for where they knew my heart was tugging – meaning. 

We all strive to make meaning in our lives and for Dali that was creating masterpieces of art, for others it’s building a family, a few strive to protect our world, and for me, it’s still unknown. What I do know is that I took a year to step out of my life and I didn’t want to just step back in the same one on my return. I felt the red dirt between my toes, I etched the trees in my skin and I built a longing in my heart for something else. 

Dali manipulated a life of oddity, familial stress, and mental angst. In the end, he consistently chose to expand his dilemmas through art. He pushed through the confusion to create wonder and question normality which you can awe at the results for hours. I hope to create wonder in my life and always question what is normal.

A rather odd combination of stories, but alas, it is told. I tied a wish onto the Dali tree outside the exhibit that read, “To see life through new eyes in Dali fashion.” I hope to keep true to that guide. And I’m happy in my new job but will not stop striving for the absurdity of awe.

"I love boobs; words & boobs."

Amazing! Filled our hearts full of goodness and hope! Spoken word combined with music and the depth of the soul. Sounds very hippy but it felt like an invite to a private intellectual society gone punk with a touch of burlesque. My fav review from my attending friend, "I love boobs; words and boobs."

When I shared my short review with another friend, she exclaimed, "Best review ever." So I thought it was worthy of a wider audience. Plus, how often in life can you say that an event has filled your heart so full?! It’s a lucky moment and one that should most definitely be celebrated.

I first saw Candy Royalle at a spoken word event earlier in the year which was held at a local pub in Glebe, Friend in Hand. She was hosting a poetry night and I was in need of a life injection. Quickly the night shed more than light into a world of inspiration and titillating existence that I thought died in storybooks from the Renaissance era or the Age of Enlightenment.

Frida People was birthed out of a combination of Candy Royalle’s words and Sloppy Joe’s funk. The result is moving, exciting and naked! Literally naked as they were joined on stage by Emma Maye Gibson (aka Betty Grumble) – an energetic punk, sometimes dramatic, but always fun dancing queen.

From the start of the night with guest poets sharing a few of their writings, I was deeply moved. True stories from the heart of a girl’s struggles as she watches her immigrant grandfather toil in life to lists of love unrequited to historical references of hate, racism and religion – each told honestly and from spaces deep within.

Then Frida People honoured the stage and the night escalated to open minds and hearts to life combined in a room of strangers. When I last saw Royalle she had dreads down her back with shaved sides but this time, she was bald with a crown of horns. She even joked halfway through the show when she asked the audience if her eyebrows were bleeding down her face (as they were painted on).

Royalle had to end her touring earlier in the year after getting diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She has gone through treatment and is in recovery now. I can only wish this extraordinary woman the very best as she’s a light in the world that shouldn’t be dimmed.

With a trumpeter, grand piano, drums, bass and Royalle’s rhythmic words of the impermanence of life, challenging the norm, and bringing people together through performance – ultimate success was achieved. Royalle thanked the audience for giving her the energy to feed off and lift herself to perform. It is clearly us who need to thank her!

I walked home as the third night of thunderstorms and lightening crashed down on Sydney but it felt like life announcing itself with a fierce and powerful exclamation. I heard it and was happy for doing so.

So this show is over and maybe you won't get to see Royalle on your side of the world but the takeaway here is "words" - check out a poetry reading in your town or jot a note to your partner and leave it on their pillow to see their reaction.

Words are meaningful. My mum used to write me notes on my napkin in my lunch bag. Totally embarrassed me but secretly I loved it! The little things do make a difference.

candyroyalle.com/
#CandyRoyalle

Drip feed - I'm back!

I’m baaaccckkk! Yes, the Billagog blog is back!

I hope there are a few readers still out there following this transformation. The blog originated for the trip around Oz but always had a side story of facilitating my need to write.

Well, the need is far from gone and I might as well use the avenue that I created to extend the story of things that continue to provide tales of adventure in my life.

Thus my new novel idea – a drip feed of stories and my next adventure. BTW, novel as in new, versus novel as in long story, which is still to come...

Bear with me as I navigate these waters. The tributaries may lead to exploits of Sydney scenes (where I currently call home), reviews of gigs, music and theatre, or just creative ideas that pop into my ever-churning mind. The goal is that they are interesting and at times even inspiring.

Who recalls the concept of the “choose your own adventure” series which was all the hype in the 80s and 90s? It allowed the reader to decide their own direction. So why not a new concept for this age?

We’re all so busy with the inability to stay focussed long enough to read a novel anymore. What I’m creating here is a “drip feed” of stories like a quote-a-day flip calendar or the app that teaches you a new word. Through Billagog, I’ll give you periodic updates on either a current event, marketing concept or alternating interesting facts. It’s kinda like subscribing to an editorial in the paper where the author gets to drone on about something of interest to them with hopes you are listening.

Ok, so it’s not a new concept. That's the very meaning of a blog. But I still hope you’ll enjoy, be inspired and find creativity in common thoughts!

My favourite yoga teacher ends each session with a quote. I always find it intriguingly appropriate for my life so I thought I would do the same for each blog update. This one started and ended with one in the postcard format and then another here from my Mum –

“I hope each and every one of your days is filled with aha’s.”

x, Tara

The end in sight, or maybe not

When you start seeing Sydney on the road signs, you know the end is near. It's a sad moment and unsettling at the same time. A trip of a lifetime though and one that I won't soon forget. We've been reviewing the camps that we liked the best (Robinson River Crossing, Litchfield waterfalls, & Mayfield Beach) and what we'll miss the most off the road (campfires, open night sky & singing as loud as you want). But something tells me we won't lead a 'normal' life after this if we can help it. You certainly start to realise what's important and what's not.

But before it's all done, we're trying to make the most of the road still ahead. Since getting off the ferry from Tasmania, we spent a lazy couple days with Matt's friend, Amanda, in the Melbourne suburb of Cheltenham. The next stop was meant to be Wilson's Promontory but we stopped at a bush camp across the water from the Prom at Bear Gully in Cape Liptrap Coastal Reserve.

One of the campers at Bear Gully was escaping the coal fires in Morwell VIC and told us we should check out a free festival in Boolarra just a couple hours

drive from the coast so we drove the back roads through mountains and rainforest to get there. Luckily it was the weekend as the logging trucks would have been an unwelcome sight on these small windy dirt roads.

The Boolarra Folk Festival was a good day and we tracked some slightly less scenic roads back to the coast and into the Prom. Beautiful views and a good hike around Lilly Pilly Gully and Mt Bishop. From the mountains to the sand where Squeaky Beach was well named with white sands that squeaked beneath your feet. The 450+ campsite was more than we could handle so backtracked off the peninsula to a recommended bush camp at Shallow Inlet.

Just before the border from Victoria to New South Wales, we camped at a peaceful spot on Wallagaraugh River. The retreat had a protected reserve where the mob of kangaroos enjoyed the afternoon sunset along with the rest of us and even emu strolled through camp for a hello.

Once over the border, reality was setting in and we put on the brakes to enjoy a couple days at Mystery Bay bush camp. It's a beautiful spot just south of Narooma. Tomorrow is another day closer to the end, but for now, ahhh to the salty air and sunshine coast. Matt's fishing on the cliffs and I'll walk around for a beach swim this afternoon. You can't rush these things!

Some hums and ha's over whether to go to Mt Kosiousko or not but we opted for the more direct route to Sydney along the coast with a planned stop at my favourite farmstay in Wandandian at my friend's Margot's place. Then maybe another lap is Oz?

From Cradle to sea again

We've covered some ground lately and returned to the Tasman Peninsula for the third time in this trip on the little island. First up, some recap on the beautiful northwest and famous Cradle Mountain.

Because of road closures on the west coast, we had to do some round about driving from Strahan in the south up to Corinna on the single car ferry (the "Fatso") and then around through Waratah and the Hellyer Gorge before reaching Stanley on the north coast and around to Arthur River on the west coast again. Sounds like allot and it was, but beautiful and windy country! I credit Matt with brilliant and steady driving as my nerves, and Albert's brakes, would be shattered by now.

At Arthur River, we decided to navigate the waters via boat and rented a 'tinnie' for the day. The Tassie forests are alive and kicking in this area and it was good to see. A couple nights at the Arthur-Pieman Conservation Area camp and we were on towards Cradle Mountain smack in the middle of Tassie.

Our Cradle hike started innocent enough strolling in the misty weather around the Dove Lake Circuit but by the end, we decided we needed more umph in our trek so veered towards Wombat Pool leading up to Cradle Lake and around the back tracks towards Ronny Creek.

Now since I had reviewed the maps, I knew we were on a 10km hike but Matt thought something named, "Wombat Pool", would be fairly tame. So equipped with only 1 litre of water and reaching the end by 4pm, it was a shame we hadn't packed lunch...Oh well, a wonder what a granola bar and beautiful scenery can do for a couple weary trekkers! Plus we ended the hike with a visit of a very large wombat and her bub!

We returned to camp at Lake Gairdner for our river shower, camp fire, and a well earned meal! Thanks Laura & Thibout for the recommendation of this spot!

In need of clean laundry and a proper shower, we saw Ulverstone had a free day music festival so up to the north coast for a couple days.

From here we were pretty undecided but Matt's desire for another go at the deep sea was burning a memory to be made. A call to Captain Steve and we were back on the road to the Tasman Peninsula where I wait patiently for the seafarers' return.

We did arrive a day early and went to Fortesque Bay in the national park for a hike to Cape Hauy which turns out was well waited for as we needed Cradle Mountain as practice for this up and down step track out to a beautiful point! Everything happens for a reason!

Tall trees and blue seas

Via the end of the most southerly road in Australia, we come upon the Southwest National Park where the sands are white and the landscape vast if you're prepared to hike it for a couple days. Since our home is the camper, we set up camp at Catamaran River and enjoyed the sights from there.

Next stop was a stay in Hobart with lovely René who opened up her home and let us veg out on the couch for a couple days. We did make it to the MONA museum to check out the craziness that is the man that put this together.

Walsh made his fortune gambling and has an intriguing art collection that he built this museum to showcase. He also brews his own beer label called, "Moo", that he loses money on because he wanted to drink beer from wine-like bottles so the customisation costs a fortune. The whole set up is enjoyable and if you're a Tassie local, it's free!

An obligatory visit to the Salamanca Markets and farewell to our host, and we were off to Mt Field National Park and around through Wild Rivers National Park on the way to Strahan on the west coast.

A beautiful hike through Mt Field, we covered the Tall Trees circuit as well as Russell Falls, Horseshoe Falls, and Lady Barron Falls track. All of these mini hikes are in preparation for our Cradle Mountain venture.

Bush fires were making their way through Wild Rivers NP so one of the hikes we wanted to do was closed and fires were smoldering along the road. After the huge fires in Kakadu, we were used to the effects so it didn't startle us as much.

Crossing the grand mountain ranges of Wild Rivers, you then come across Queenstown and its bare dug out silver hills that have been excavated for minerals until the waters run orange. Somehow they are proud of this barren look but it was simply sad to me.

Luckily Strahan is on the other side and a wonderful destination on the west coast.