I’ve read a lot of articles as of late about an epidemic that is plaguing homes, workplaces and even schools. It’s the world’s addiction to the Internet and in particular social media.

At first I thought it was scary how reliant we are on something so intangible. I still remember a time when I used to sit on the home phone to my friends all night and as we couldn’t just Google the answer to questions we had a journey that went along with finding the answer. The process was slower but the end result was always more satisfying.

I think the bigger issue is our urgent need for instant gratification. We must surely be virtue-less as it seems patience is a thing of the past. We want to know things and we want to know them now. How long does it take to cook a soft boiled egg? How can I dye my hair purple? When is Taylor Swift’s next period? All these things can be found out within two or three clicks and if it took any longer or if our Internet connection was lagging I’m sure there’d be some four-letter words being thrown around.

I get so lazy trying to find information sometimes that I don’t even open a browser to do it- I asks my phone. “Siri, when did John Dillinger die?” within four and a half seconds I found out that he died on Sunday 22 July 1934 which was 78 years 3 months and 21 days ago or 4086 and 1 day ago etcetera, etcetera. All this I did without having to type a thing or troll through websites… It’s getting easier and easier (aka scarier and scarier).

So are we getting dumber through lack of exploration or more intelligent due to having endless information at our fingertips? I think a bit of both. I think we are learning more but retaining less because we can just ask Siri again if we forget it.

Being an avid reader with an unhealthy obsession for collecting books I find there is still some information I’d prefer to get between densely worded pages rather than on a brightly lit screen. Literary reference books are my drug of choice, I could Google information on authors, on writing styles, literary history and even what my beloved F. Scott Fitzgerald used to eat for breakfast but I’d rather try and find it I a book. That’s because the information I find in those pages is sacred to me. What I find on the Internet is not.

Social media has some really great benefits. The support that residents of the east coast of America had when that crazy bitch Sandy decided to make a big bloody mess, was humanity at its finest. I also believe social media gave the US election the extra push in the right direction and allowed people to put the tragic Mit-supporting, senile Trump man in his place.

It’s the way we connect, meet like minded people, find old friends and unfortunately it is also the new cowardly way to bully people.  I must admit that regardless of the fact that my job requires me to sit on Twitter and Facebook all day, I still check my personal Twitter account more then would be considered healthy. Its a quick escape, a dab of entertainment and a way that I can connect with people I admire that I would never normally be able to connect with.

The ever expanding social media platforms are making us disconnect more than connect and it has made high school reunions a bit redundant but is there a positive in it all? Most definitely. As a writer, I find Twitter an exceptional resource of information, inspiration and simply finding support from other writers. It’s a really great community. Instagram gives me my daily dose of beauty as I always see pictures that make me feel warm and fuzzy inside (note: they are generally of cats). Facebook is more like a crack addiction, I check it everyday hoping for something exciting but always leave with a feeling of app remorse.

But is it really an epidemic? Is this “addiction” causing irreparable damage or are we just evolving? In five thousand years we’ll most probably be born with the our brains automatically connected to the internet and we won’t have to go to school as we’ll just download the information at the appropriate age. Watch our teachers.

I honestly think we are just moving up another step of the human evolution ladder. Sure we may be doing some damage to our brains and attention span in the process but at least we’re more productive. As a result of not having to pull out the dusty encyclopedia to find out darling Dillinger’s death, I was able to get back to watching Gossip Girl sooner- See, productive!

The other half of me ponders that perhaps if I lived in a slower time, I’d be able to sit by candlelight and ink my way into the night. Does the world around me and its undying urgency make me anxious? Is my inability to slow down a result of the disposable, pressurized society that I live in? Could it be that I’m not mental after all and the world is to blame?

This would explain why I romanticise about living in the country or moving to a small village in Tuscany to write the days away. It’s not the moving that I crave, it’s the calm.

In an attempt to capture some serenity in my life, I’m about to start the best unmedicated thing I can think of- yoga. My peaceful life starts next week and I can’t wait. My excessive excitement about one of the simple pleasures in life goes to show, I need this.

We (as in humans) are more productive than we’ve ever been. We’re living longer, we’re smarter and we’re realising that chocolate can even be good for you. Beside war, terrorism, poverty and global warming, you’d think the world has got its shit together.  So then why are so many people suffering from mental illnesses such as depression, anxiety and bi polar? I think it boils down to high expectations. We expect to study hard, get a good job, be the best person at the job, have a family if you want, still work, maintain friendships, work, not forget about your family, work and have time to shower. I don’t think life was that busy in the 1500’s, plus I don’t think they had showers.

Kindly note this is not backed up with any historical reference for accuracy but I think that living in 1500’s or anytime before the 20^th century, would have been easier on the nerves. Sure, people worked and had similar problems of money, happiness or relationships issues but it comes across as a simpler time. You can’t say the people living then were over stimulated and overwhelmed with the speed in which things were happening. This idea could possibly be a ‘grass is always greener’ situation but even so, there’s a point to it.

We are so reliant on technology. Social media rules most people’s lives. A large part of my job is social media. I don’t remember the last time I went a whole 24hours without turning the television on, playing my 3DS or using my laptop to write (or play The Sims). I don’t give my mind time to rest because most of my possessions are electronic items that promise entertainment and excitement.

What it comes down to is stripping back all the junk and finding the inner peace that most of us can barely remember having. It’s okay to live in the busy, congested highway we call life, but sometimes you need to pull over and pick a daisy from the grass. Warning: doing this may result in stepping on bindies because our lives aren’t designed to allow us to just stop, but it’ll be worth it I’m sure.

Maybe after I start my yoga regime and maybe even meditate (shock horror), I’ll be able to centre my thoughts, write calmly not so urgently. Shakespeare… bring it!

I’ve started reading ‘This is not the end of the book’ by Eco Umberto and Jean-Claude Carriere. It reveals an intriguing and oddly entertaining conversation between to two geniuses about how the book will survive this electronic era.

I’ve touched on this subject before when discussing the difference between publishing electronically versus book form. For me books always win.

These two gentlemen have valid points about why books won’t die out like the Dinosaurs. Eco tells us that the book has been perfected into something that cannot be improved. It can be changed but not improved.

The book is like the spoon, scissors, the hammer, the wheel. Once invented, it cannot be improved. You cannot make a spoon that is better than a spoon. – Umberto Eco 

I agree with Carriere in thinking a book’s biggest threat has come and gone. Cinema, television and even radio posed a triple threat against its older competitor, the book. Even so, as these scholars discuss, they have taken nothing away from the book that it couldn’t afford to lose.

Kindles, Nooks and other e-readers changes the way we read but it doesn’t improve it. Many may argue of their convenience but I think we hold convenience above more important things like the divine connection between the reader, the book and the writer. The e-reader seems to stop that connection in its tracks. There’s no identifying with the texture of the paper, the way the ink in pressed into its foundation or leaving creases in its spine to show it’s loved.  E-readers make books seem disposable and that’s a scary thought. 

I’ve tried reading on an e-reader and it doesn’t feel the same. I can’t feel the thickness of the pages shifting from right to left as I make my way through the book and I don’t feel like I can curl up with it. It feels ridged and disconnected with it content. I think this is one of the many reasons why books won’t succumb to extinction. As this book argues, if electricity was to stop, we’d lose television, computers and even e-readers but books would live on.

One thing this book put into my mind that frightened me a little, is what will happen to my book collection after I die? I cherish my books to the point of slight obsession. My only choice is to condition my future children to be bibliophiles so I know my books will end up in good hands. 

Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good, it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit. Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through. 
― Ira Glass

 

I’ve always loved Pin-up girls. They’re the epitome of sexy and the highlight of feminine beauty. Now, more than ever they are popular. Whether it’s in the tattoo world, in pop culture or even in fashion, the Pin-up influence in everywhere.

For me the image of a beautiful, cheerful Pin-up girl is one that warms my heart. It makes me feel nostalgic for a time I didn’t belong to. A time when women were seen as elegant creations- God’s artwork.

Yes, it was considered raunchy for it’s era but these women were sexy on a level that still left something to the imagination. As time went on and sex became more accessible in advertising, the Pin-up girl became more about sex and nudity than art and beauty. This path has slowly continued until now where we’ve reached a time of full, overexposed nudity that leaves nothing to the imagination.

There is still something that men and women find innately sexy about the Pin-up look. Take Dita Von Teese for example. She is a modern day, elegant pin up beauty. Sure, she gets naked but that’s to keep up with her audience no doubt. People can pretend Glamour Models like Jordan and Playboy Blonde Bombshells are “sexy” but they are just “sex”. To gain the ‘Y’ you need a level of feminine elegance that the Pin-up girl embodies.

Here is some beautiful Pin-up girl artwork that I love.

Never has a city so wholly consumed me. It’s as if I’ve fallen in love and I am a drooling, aching, love sick puppy.

I’ve travelled the world but never have I felt the way I do about New York. It hit me unexpectedly. I knew I would love it but it wasn’t until I was boarding the plane to Sydney that I realised I was leaving apart of my heart there.

During my week in the city that never sleeps, I had a wonderful time. I loved the sounds, smells and energy of the city. I loved the crisp morning air and the heat of the sun as it came down between the giant buildings. I loved the shops, the food and the way it inspired me. I loved everything.

I had the most magnificent time but I put it down to the enjoyment of travel. After most trips, I lock the memories into a vault in my mind to uncover when I’m feeling stagnant. It’s very different with NYC. I think about it everyday.

It hasn’t once been in my mind vault, I tried to put it in there but it just won’t go. Everything I do makes me think of the city. I even keep buying books on it just to fuel my love until we meet again.

I try to understand where this deep connection comes from. Perhaps I was a New Yorker in a past life and something triggered a past love upon my visit? Perhaps the remarkable energy in the city penetrated my soul and won’t let me rest until I get there again? Whatever it is, it makes me undeniably happy and miserable at the same time.

It’s the epitome of unrequited love. It pains my heart that I don’t know when I’ll visit again but that unknowing doesn’t stop the full fledged obsession growing within me.

Soon enough my friends and family will grow weary of my rants and perhaps they even send me there just to shut me up.

New York I love you but being away from you is bringing me down.

I love tea. I don’t just enjoy it as a beverage- I really love it! It’s the combination of comfort, warmth and peaceful happiness that makes me want to reach for my teapot even more than my iPhone. So when my mum bought me The Book of Tea by Okakura Kakuzo I knew I’d end up writing a blog on it.

It seems that my excessive love for tea isn’t pure madness, and this book supports tea lovers everywhere. It eloquently describes that tea is more than a drink, it’s a religion.

Teaism is a cult founded on the adoration of the beautiful among the sordid facts of everyday existence. It inculcates purity and harmony, the mystery of mutual charity, the romanticism of the social order. It is essentially a worship of the Imperfect, as it is a tender attempt to accomplish something possible in this impossible thing called life.

You might be thinking what does tea have to do with all that? Well this marvelous little book goes on to say that tea isn’t simply the drink itself, it is the way it makes you feel and it’s the traditions behind it. The book is filled with anecdotes, history and philosophies. One of my favourite parts is when Lotung, a Tang poet describes his relationship with tea.

The first cup moistens my lips and throat, the second cup breaks my loneliness, the third cup searches my barren entrail but to find therein some five thousand volumes of odd ideographs. The fourth cup raises a slight perspiration,- all the wrong of life passes away through my pores. At the fifth cup I am purified; the sixth cup calls me to the realms of immortals. The seventh cup- ah, but I could take no more! I only feel the breath of cool wind that rises in my sleeves. Where is Horaisan? Let me ride on this sweet breeze and waft away thither.

For me, tea is the connecting fluid of life. It is more vital than blood (ok not medically, but metaphorically). It connects everything I do with my core. Whether I am reading, writing, watching television or even doing my taxes, drinking a cup of tea while I do so helps me. It pulls me through the darkness, ignites my inspiration and lets me know that even if everything feels like its falling apart, I still can find calmness in a cup of tea.

Raise your teacup and lets make a toast to tea!

Peace x