The Itch

feeling an itch, a longing to be there again
to be down by the sea
standing on those cliffs
and feeling the sea breeze on my face
yes I’m by the sea here
but it’s not quite the same
it’s not my place of dreams
my place of magic and wonder
I need to be there again
to digest, to breathe
to just be
I need to go home.

The Photograph

in the photograph, you look
just like her, it’s like looking
in a mirror, the only thing
separating us is time
and the fact that I never knew you
and you’re in black and white
frozen forever in posterity
hands clasped, eyes gazing
at something just off camera
and I can only see
what’s reflected in your eyes,
while I live
in a colour world
that you don’t know.

The Writer’s Manifesto

Give me half an hour of peace
and a desk to write at,
a pen or pencil, and a notebook.

 

Give me a morning to daydream away
to conjure up worlds and magic
and drink coffee while I’m busy
in my own head.

 

Give me space to return to other worlds
to sail away across the seas
to a place that nobody knows of but me.

 

Give me time alone to be at one
in my own mind
to put words to paper
even if they don’t mean much
they make me feel better
and then I’m all yours –
for a few hours at least.

 

The Sun Will Rise Again

Here’s what I know of this world,

that the sun will set every day

and will rise again the next.

The darkness will fade and the sun

will come out again.

That there will always be music

and singing and dancing and art

and writing. That there will be

writers and artists and creators

and people who want to make a change

and that no matter what

there will be love and kindness

somewhere to be found.

 

Hope is a root that keeps growing

for we are never without it

and the sun, always rises.

Meditation on Water

Today the water is glassy still

the wind dies and builds up

leaving ripples in its wake.

Tide goes in and out.

Sun glimmers on the surface.

Boats pootle along

the car ferry chugs back and forth,

Ferryside lit up by the evening sun

that falls across its window

and there is nothing

but the gentle tap

of water against the harbour wall

and the squawk of a seagull swooping.

 

That Wetsuit Smell

The smell of the wetsuit brings it back –

the cold early mornings,

the sunsets watched from the water

shivering in a carpark as it grew dark

and bundling wet things into plastic bags.

The smell of wetsuit lingers

on my skin longer after it’s peeled away

and all that’s left are aching muscles.

It brings back the memory

of water swirls around my feet

sails raised up into the wind

as we push our boards into the sea.

Fearless: The Interview Series – Olivia O’Connor

When I began setting up this blog, I started googling and searching for lifestyle, outdoors, travel, and surf blogs. I was amazed by the number of links that came up – lining up all these blogs to read, and spent hours reading inspiring posts and interviews written by these utterly inspiring women. Each blog lead me to click through to more – and I soon discovered that there was one thing in common with all these blogs – they were all utterly inspiring and run by women who had decided to go out and do what they wanted to do. Do what I wanted to do. They were living lives that I wanted to. So, I thought, in the spirit of doing things, what better than ask them for interviews and feature them here.

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