everything is borrowed
23/08/08
Daydreams are made of this
16/08/08
I've spent a good chunk of the last week poring over
databases, spreadsheets, budgets,
facts-figures-numbers; Call it what you will and
whatever you call it, it'll still be dull. My sleep
deprived brain was beginning to send signals to my
eyes that resembled a scene from the matrix, numbers
falling from the top of my vision to the bottom, but
slightly too quick to take in their meaning. For any
of you who work in that sort of environment full
time, I'm truly sorry if I ever mock you, but listen
to me know, I have a secret to share with you.
Come closer...
Life's too short dude. You only get one crack at it, do you want to look back and see the prime of your life filled with numbers and meaningless boardroom projects? Take a paycut, do something you want to do, not something you feel you have to do.
Because my Crohn's makes me very attuned to how my body responds to stress I noticed immediately what even a week of targets, deadlines, and relying on other people can do to your health. Stress isn't something that most people really pick up on, you just get on and deal with it, Crohn's makes me notice and then it's quite easy for me to take that step back. One advantage to being sick maybe?
Anyway, if you're sitting there, stuck in your cubicle, or lovely open plan office, sat behind a ubiquitous black dell display on a uniform mock beech desk, join me, come join the dark side. No I don't mean buy an Apple, I mean stare into space for 5 minutes, tell people your thinking a problem through, brainstorming (or what are we supposed to call it now in this politically correct world?). Join me in a daydream.
You've had an early start, the car's locked, lunch is in your backpack, the waders are swishing as you wander across the few fields to your favourite river. You can hear cows munching on grass, see the swallows swirling on the still summer air, smell the warm earth and grass as you cross the meadow.
Getting to the river, it's gin clear, weed waves slowly, nonchalantly in the current. Flies flit above the surface and there, out of the corner of your eye you see a movement sub surface. You see a flash of white and then a small circle spreads in the otherwise still section of the river behind the fallen willow. Your brain has already scanned a thousand possibilities of approach, fly selection, drag, silhouette - that nanosecond is all you need to have decided. Unreeling a bit of line from the reel as you go, you crawl up to the reeds, flick the line out, one false cast, bugger! The line is in the willow. A small tug and the fly plops out of the tree onto the surface, someone is certainly smiling on you today. The nanosecond it took your brain to decide on an approach is countered by the 3 hours it takes your fly to drift the 5" or so to where you saw the rise. closer. closer. closer. Slowly, slowly you see the river bed coalesce into the unmistakable shape of a brownie, he's looking, he's looking, then like lightning he's decided and your connected to a jumping, thrashing wild thing. A thing of primordial beauty that once at the bank you hold gingerly in your slightly shaking hands, until on some unseen signal you blink and he's gone, back to his shady home, and back to the timeless cycle of life.
See, now that 5 minutes of daydream has just sent all thoughts of bosses and banks and numbers swirling away like the Autumn leaves that will all too soon be drifting down the Nadder once again.
Oh, seems I rambled some today!
Anyway, having worked my ass off, the data was sent in, the spreadsheets closed down and the rod was lifted down from it's hooks over the back door. I wandered across the fields, the waders swished, the cows munched, swallows swooped and the trout, well, he's still there as in the real world, the fly didn't plop from the tree and he bolted. He's just one resident in a good mile of river though and his spotty mates were as always obliging.
~ malcolm
Come closer...
Life's too short dude. You only get one crack at it, do you want to look back and see the prime of your life filled with numbers and meaningless boardroom projects? Take a paycut, do something you want to do, not something you feel you have to do.
Because my Crohn's makes me very attuned to how my body responds to stress I noticed immediately what even a week of targets, deadlines, and relying on other people can do to your health. Stress isn't something that most people really pick up on, you just get on and deal with it, Crohn's makes me notice and then it's quite easy for me to take that step back. One advantage to being sick maybe?
Anyway, if you're sitting there, stuck in your cubicle, or lovely open plan office, sat behind a ubiquitous black dell display on a uniform mock beech desk, join me, come join the dark side. No I don't mean buy an Apple, I mean stare into space for 5 minutes, tell people your thinking a problem through, brainstorming (or what are we supposed to call it now in this politically correct world?). Join me in a daydream.
You've had an early start, the car's locked, lunch is in your backpack, the waders are swishing as you wander across the few fields to your favourite river. You can hear cows munching on grass, see the swallows swirling on the still summer air, smell the warm earth and grass as you cross the meadow.
Getting to the river, it's gin clear, weed waves slowly, nonchalantly in the current. Flies flit above the surface and there, out of the corner of your eye you see a movement sub surface. You see a flash of white and then a small circle spreads in the otherwise still section of the river behind the fallen willow. Your brain has already scanned a thousand possibilities of approach, fly selection, drag, silhouette - that nanosecond is all you need to have decided. Unreeling a bit of line from the reel as you go, you crawl up to the reeds, flick the line out, one false cast, bugger! The line is in the willow. A small tug and the fly plops out of the tree onto the surface, someone is certainly smiling on you today. The nanosecond it took your brain to decide on an approach is countered by the 3 hours it takes your fly to drift the 5" or so to where you saw the rise. closer. closer. closer. Slowly, slowly you see the river bed coalesce into the unmistakable shape of a brownie, he's looking, he's looking, then like lightning he's decided and your connected to a jumping, thrashing wild thing. A thing of primordial beauty that once at the bank you hold gingerly in your slightly shaking hands, until on some unseen signal you blink and he's gone, back to his shady home, and back to the timeless cycle of life.
See, now that 5 minutes of daydream has just sent all thoughts of bosses and banks and numbers swirling away like the Autumn leaves that will all too soon be drifting down the Nadder once again.
Oh, seems I rambled some today!
Anyway, having worked my ass off, the data was sent in, the spreadsheets closed down and the rod was lifted down from it's hooks over the back door. I wandered across the fields, the waders swished, the cows munched, swallows swooped and the trout, well, he's still there as in the real world, the fly didn't plop from the tree and he bolted. He's just one resident in a good mile of river though and his spotty mates were as always obliging.
~ malcolm
Don't get comfortable
12/08/08
In my younger days I used to paint my meandering
thoughts down on canvas, doors, bits of board -
anything that didn't move basically. It suddenly
dawned on me yesterday that I hadn't picked up a
paint brush in an absolute age, so I shoved all the
fly tying mess into a bag, cleared a bit of desk
(which I now know is actually a light beech colour as
opposed to the dusty grey I thought it was) and got
painting for an hour.
I'm no Van Gough or de kooning but I do rather enjoy painting, don't be surpised if the odd one crops up here in place of a photo or two.
~ malcolm
I'm no Van Gough or de kooning but I do rather enjoy painting, don't be surpised if the odd one crops up here in place of a photo or two.
~ malcolm
ευθυμίες!
03/08/08
or for those of you who don't speak Greek, cheers!
(according to my online translator at least, it's all
greek to me - ooohh, the puns never stop)
anyway, just managed to get through the hell on earth that is Gatwick on my way back from a week in the sun. I honestly didn't think I would, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself in Greece. Hot beach holidays aren't my thang at all, but the area around Parga turned out to be simply gorgeous. I avoided the hugely busy beaches such as Valtos and instead we snuck though dirt tracks up and down mountain villages and spent days on quiet, crystal clear watered, not another English person in sight, perfect beaches.
Oh, and for the piscatorially minded, the rivers were to die for! Just incredible... Andreas had told me how good they were but I'm not sure I believed him. Well, now, I believe him, and I really want to go back with a rod. Those mountain rivers were just incredible, when I win the lottery, I'll go back!
Anyway, just a few photos to prove I'm not making all this up ;)
the first this is fly T-shirt in Greece?
the castle overlooking the harbour in Parga was simply amazing. There is no way in England that the place would be open to the public - crumbling walls and walkways, sheer drops, slick pavingstones, no lighting in the tunnels, no ropes or barriers - you get the picture. BUT, it was so much better for it. Having ranted about how Stonehenge is totally devoid of any mysticism any more a few entries back this was a real gem. You could just soak it all in, free from the litigious minded way that we now seem to have to live in the UK.
oh, and Andreas, if you read this, thanks for the tip. It really was a fantastic place to visit - this one's for you!
~ malcolm
anyway, just managed to get through the hell on earth that is Gatwick on my way back from a week in the sun. I honestly didn't think I would, but I thoroughly enjoyed myself in Greece. Hot beach holidays aren't my thang at all, but the area around Parga turned out to be simply gorgeous. I avoided the hugely busy beaches such as Valtos and instead we snuck though dirt tracks up and down mountain villages and spent days on quiet, crystal clear watered, not another English person in sight, perfect beaches.
Oh, and for the piscatorially minded, the rivers were to die for! Just incredible... Andreas had told me how good they were but I'm not sure I believed him. Well, now, I believe him, and I really want to go back with a rod. Those mountain rivers were just incredible, when I win the lottery, I'll go back!
Anyway, just a few photos to prove I'm not making all this up ;)
the first this is fly T-shirt in Greece?
the castle overlooking the harbour in Parga was simply amazing. There is no way in England that the place would be open to the public - crumbling walls and walkways, sheer drops, slick pavingstones, no lighting in the tunnels, no ropes or barriers - you get the picture. BUT, it was so much better for it. Having ranted about how Stonehenge is totally devoid of any mysticism any more a few entries back this was a real gem. You could just soak it all in, free from the litigious minded way that we now seem to have to live in the UK.
oh, and Andreas, if you read this, thanks for the tip. It really was a fantastic place to visit - this one's for you!
~ malcolm