We never return from a visit to my sister Gillian without booty. Fruit for me to make marmalade or jelly, cookies, cakes, flowers, books, magazines, fabrics, gossip, ideas, and inspirations. Banana cake with the Lynsey-friendly lemon icing, and the – urgh – chocolate icing.

In adding the lemon peel slivers to the cake Gillian really touched a part of our shared hearts. As kids we took great delight in having our very own, just for me, food – a little cake, a dessert made in an individual dish, something just for us. Mum used to bring us home tiny, individual loaves of wholemeal bread – identical in every respect to the full loaves except baby loaves – and just for each of us. We made sandwiches out of our very own loaves, and probably some toast. Back then bread was white, and unsliced, and wholemeal bread, especially presented as a tiny individual loaf, was very special to us. The simple pleasures.

Manifesto
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.
20. Every day say thank you.
29. Every day eat, drink, rest, work, exercise, play, love, create for your own good. And the good of others.

Sometimes it is better. That’s rewarding. The real reward is that we’ve got enough of the right things and the good things to make a meal at all. I feel so blessed when I sit down to a meal – elegant or simple – perhaps more often when the meal is simple – we have food on the table. Everything else doesn’t matter.

Manifesto
06. Every day you make choices.
09. Every day learn something new.
20. Every day say thank you.

Meanwhile on the way back, back to the car, back to the office, back to the daily grind – I can take a quiet breath or two – a meditation on the moment – sweeping away like a bird in the view of the lights rolling down to the valley floor and up the other side. I love the contrast between the mists and the sharp edges of the immediate foliage. I breath in. I love the fresh air. Some mornings every pure breath feels like you’ve breathed in twice.

Manifesto
01. Every day is a fresh new day.
20. Every day say thank you.
36. Every day be still. Connect to your inner being. Listen and be guided by it.

In the middle of the road of my life
I awoke in the dark wood
with no path I could see anywhere. — Dante La Commedia Divina

Red billed gulls tried to pick out some warmth and security from the howling winds today. One of them would not settle for the path at all, turning away from the rest of the flock.

Takes a force of nature or a liberal dose of courage to turn away from the crowd, to strike out alone. So few people ever stretch out into finding their own voice, reluctant to leave the path. It seems a sad waste to go to the grave with your song unsung.

Manifesto
06. Every day you make choices.
13. Every day be better than you were the day before.
23. Every day retain your personal power. It belongs to you. No one else.

I’m feeling a bit sad tonight. After a great weekend, and an ok day at work, I come home and find some words that left me feeling empty. There’s a story here. It involves you too, now. It’s a long story and you’re now part of it, because you’re reading this posting.

When do stories ever start? When do they finish? I believe they’re all already started and they never finish – at least not while there’s a story teller, and someone to tell stories to.

This part of the story starts back in about 2003-4. Marica told me about blogs. Blogs? Woss a blog then eh? I didn’t really get it – as much as anything because most blog writers didn’t do anything for me. C.R.U.S.T.Y. Crusty. Didn’t have anything to say. Didn’t say it very well. And then one day, I found a blog written by a guy who could string two words together, and, best of all, could draw and illustrate what he had to say. Actually, it was the other way around. He drew, and wrote about his drawings. And he encouraged other people to do the same. Some of us did. I went off and did some life drawing – you know – staring at nekkid chicks and make drawings on paper. If you’ve never tried it you should have a go.

I found he was a pretty normal sounding guy with a great eye for colour and line, and through his blog we came to know his wife who’d survived a bad accident and was wheelchair bound and their son – a pretty cool kind of kid who grew up on the blog. And their dogs. And the interesting things that were kind of humdrum but fascinating in a domestic kind of way, a drawing a day kind of way. Beautiful stories about everyday matters.

On the side of his blog site he had links, and, from time to time, a bit of a review, and one day I slid down one of links to another illustrator/author’s work. This guy did these cool kind of pen and ink and water colour cartoon-y kind of illustrations, and he focussed on uplifting themes, with stories about kids with cancer and kids facing personal trauma. I became a regular reader. I didn’t tell Marica about this blog – we’ve got this kind of issue in our own home and I didn’t want to kick off any scabs unnecessarily.

Fast forward a few months and I’m inspired by the drawing and writing and I’m starting to write, draw, and make photos a bit myself. We’ve both become fans of the trauma guy’s blog, and we go to BlogTalk Downunder in Sydney. We become inspired and decide to run a blog conference – BlogHui – here in New Zealand, and, after trials and tribulations that still make us laugh whenever we have a cheese sandwich, we got it off the ground. We invited the trauma guy to speak at BlogHui, never fully believing he’d take us seriously. He – Trevor (and his wonderful wife) did. We fell in love with each other. Our lives change forever.

Turns out our new pal Trevor is not just a link – he’s friends with the first artist/writer I’d read consistently – even been to visit the guy and his wife and son in New York. They were collaborating on a book together. I’m secretly envious. No. I’m envious.

Fast forward to earlier this year – March 18. Patti – Danny’s wife, Jack’s mother, is killed in a horrible accident. Thousands of miles away from people I’ve never met, I feel numb. Shattered. I manage to catch up with Trevor online and we have a clipped exchange – sharing a few words of a story – we’re both gutted.

Today. Tonight. After a great weekend, and an ok day at work, I come home and find some words that left me feeling inspired. There’s a story here. It involves you too, now. It’s a long story and you’re a part of it now, because you’re part of the telling. Danny continues to write and draw, and today was wondering what immortality might be. He proposes we make a drawing or a cake or a dress and to share it with others who’ll be inspired to do something nice and creative of their own. And to think of Patti when you do. He notes that he has no idea what impression he’ll make on the world, or how long the ripples will last.

Danny, you might be surprised. While we only ever see some of the connections, there’s a chain, and it’s unbroken.

Manifesto
18. Every day express love. Some people need to hear it. Most people need to see it. Don’t take it for granted.
39. Every day trust that there is a bigger picture. You are a part of it even if you may not know what it is.
42. Every day celebrate. Who you are. What you have achieved. Things that matter to you.

There’s a graffito on a wall near the university that says, “You are a small part of a beautiful picture”. I’ve failed to get a picture of the wall that adequately captures the message in context, but I think about the message a great lot. If I’m part of a beautiful picture, then possibly, just possibly, I’m beautiful too. Some days it’s hard to imagine that. Other days, easy. I stay the same, it’s the picture that changes.

Or maybe the picture stays the same.

It’s how I think about it that changes.

Manifesto
36. Every day be still. Connect to your inner being. Listen and be guided by it.
38. Every day be brave and give things a go. Use fear to trigger you into action.
48. Every day there are things you can’t change. You can change the way you think about them and deal with them.

How completely beautiful. This afternoon I took the pear and quince juice my sister Gillian brought us and made jelly. Jam is good, but jelly is better. I love the way the light becomes golden, richer, turning the glass jars into gem stones. The house becomes redolent with the fragrance of quince. I love the meditative experience.

When I first started making jelly I got some really helpful criticism – comments like: ‘You should’ve made it on a sunny day’, ‘The tiny bubbles in this jelly means it wouldn’t win prizes’, and ‘This jelly is too hard/soft/whatever’…

You know, there are some times when it’s better to not listen to helpful criticism. The best thing to do is to make some jelly – some grape, or apple, or peach, or quince – and then make some nice toast. Spread it with butter. Yes, that’s right, butter. No synthetics. Butter. Let the butter melt a little. Spoon over some jelly. Go on, spoon a little more. You’ll love it. Take a bite – let the rich fruit flavours make love with your taste buds. Shut your eyes. Breathe in the sublime summer. Sigh. Love. Love. Love.

So what criticism?

Manifesto
17. Every day look through a new lens.
22. Every day refine, clarify and simplify.
30. Every day use all your senses. Touch. Smell. Taste. Hear. See.

This afternoon, the sublime pleasure of a nap in the sun. When I woke, this is the first sight. So beautiful. Next time you take a rest, by day or by night, have your camera handy. Take a shot or two of what you see when you wake – it’s the universe that can’t be seen in any other way.

Manifesto
05. Every day is now. The present moment.
19. Every day make time for yourself.
20. Every day say thank you.

What about you? What’re the gray pillars of your community – of your inner you?

Are you willing to change, or, are you so totally happy with what you are and where you are that change is just out of the question. In fact, it’s not even something that comes up on your radar. If so, good for you. Stay who, what, and where you are. Don’t have a new thought. Stay the same, we love you as you are.

What about those of us rebels, resistant to our gray pillars? It’s not easy to deal with our inner gray pillars, but why not join the fight against them anyway? What are you prepared to give up, what are you prepared to change to move on? Join the resistance! Topple a gray pillar or two, become someone new.

Manifesto
02. Every day is an opportunity for a new beginning.
12. Every day love yourself.
15. Every day make a difference to yourself and others.

How we seek the right angle. I don’t mean the 90^o kind of right angle, I mean the kind of edge to get things done. The right way. The wu wei. The angle of repose. The active inaction. The do without doing. Naturally occurring evidence. It’s the kind of thing you often see with someone who can do a manual task with the elegant simplicity that looks absolutely effortless.

I love to watch this kind of activity. The ballet of blowing glass. The delicacy of cake decorating. Cutting glass. Throwing a lump of clay on to a wheel and then stroking up a beautiful pot. The one that grinds me – people who can draw a likeness in a couple of lines, a dot or two, and a couple of squiggles. I hate them, I love them.

In my head I know there’s hours of practice and failure before this effortless magnificent, but I also secretly hope that one day there’ll be some astounding talent to be mined out of my murky depths and I’ll be able to amaze my friends and family.

I guess everyone dreams of having super powers. Maybe it’s just about getting the angle right.

Manifesto
13. Every day be better than you were the day before.
19. Every day make time for yourself.
23. Every day retain your personal power. It belongs to you. No one else.