A few weeks back I did an overnighter at Rocky Paddock. There were a few tears but it was a great night, sitting by a fire at site 24 drinking beers.
Definitely time away to recharge, reclaiming the place and not needing to write myself off. Writing haiku and reminding myself to think about the good memories.
Scrawled at the end of the beer reviews, a poster slogan, not ironic or sarcastic. I had grand plans to do it as an elaborate hand lettered thing, set it up on a cliche poster mockup with wooden pegs and a cactus on the side. Funnily enough after the last two drawings also involved custom lettering I lost enthusiasm!
Working on the laborious scribble writing I remembered back to 1991, a visit with the Gover St crew to somewhere nearby at Mount Crawford. Tripping, I had crawled into a thorn bush and gotten stuck, had an epiphany and was writing down the meaning of life. Slowly. Scribbling out the letters, convinced that an out of control four wheel drive would come down a nearby track, would kill me before I could finish and reveal it. But didn’t write it any simpler or faster!
There was no ultimate neutral standpoint to contemplate from, but not everything after was crap.
Ironically I’m working on this while drinking heavy duty laxative to prep for a colonoscopy tomorrow. Shitting the past indeed.