the art and discipline of slow and and expansive musing

It's late-ish on a Friday evening and I am alone with my thoughts ... and they are mixed bunch. They come from different parts of (my) life; new recipes from home cooked meals in Vastoplanning for a new client project that has me reaching for books from my library that haven't been cracked open for a few yearsimages and impressions from the design and travel journals that I digested slowly over a solo pizza dinner at Annie'sfrustration that my foray into learning to play music has taken a pause in recent weeks  preparatory thinking for steering the discussion at a board meeting I will chair next weektroubling and conflicting reflections about elite-ism, democracy and first nation's justice from this last week's two day gathering of civil society leaders in the national capitala commitment to recapture my childhood love of drawing and graphicsFriday night footballanxiety about my lack of exercise due to travel and illnessa commitment to learn Italian so next time I …

the beauty of spoons and the celebration of eight decades of life

About a year ago I wandered into the Muji store in Melbourne and fell in love with a spoon. I love the simplicity and functionality of Japanese design and this spoon was weighted perfectly with a optimally designed shallow ladle for transferring sauces into bowls. Kitchen bliss.
My other favourite spoon is a wooden one that lives in my dad's kitchen. He reckons it is about as old as their marriage which is nearing 60 years. The head of the spoon is probably half the size it once was. The wood is dark and patchy. The tip is almost flat from decades of stirring against the bottom of a pan. The sides are smooth and shaped by countless rotations in pots of all shapes and sizes. 
Japanese culture includes the wonderful idea of wabi sabi; beauty through imperfection. Wabi sabi is not about imperfection as a consequence of mediocre design and/or manufacturing, Wabu sabi is about the beauty that comes from growth, use, scars. My leather messenger bag that I've used most days for deca…

The Overland Track

The bucket list thing doesn't work for me, I think because in my experience satisfaction is an inner world thing rather than an experiential one. But that's not to say that there aren't some things that have felt like unfinished business, and one of those things has been to walk The Overland Track.
The story goes back a long way. Cradle Mountain was in my backyard growing up. I remember driving up there for family outings ... in those days there were windy country roads, cattle grids and slippery muddy tracks that eventually got us to Waldheim Chalet and then on to Dove Lake. At uni I had friends who loved and knew the Park. I listened to their stories of the Pelion mountains and the iconic track that led south toward Lake St Clair. I climbed Cradle Mountain in Blundstones and one of those checkered woollen bush shorts. I sat with some friends in Cradle Mountain Lodge and ate dinner at what used to be communal tables where you served each other while the devils and other …

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