churches

was thinking about the unique situations of where i was born and raised today. so often i have taken for granted that i reside in a somewhat sleepy capital city called adelaide. i was born in 1992 in ashford hospital. both of my parents were in the room, as well as my grandmother, which she says was one of the most incredible moments of her life and perhaps why we remain so close today. it was around 1:30 in the morning. i grew up to be quiet a docile and quiet child. i was always asking my mother what certain words meant or what phrases meant and that this was one of the few attempts at conversation i would make in between constantly reading (or as my mother would say, devouring) books far beyond my age limit. i have memories of weaving in and out of people on rundle street or on the norwood parade while i clung tightly to my the hand of either my mother or father, feeling enraptured in the feeling of where i was, being jostled continually by a sea of people: and often, this was made all the more hard by the book i would have been reading at the same time. it was impossible for me to stop building my fantasies, and it was even harder for my parents to refuse my invitations into every bookstore i see. the angus and robertson near the crossing in the norwood parade has been visited so many times by me that it is quintessentially one of the things that i remember most about this town. so in this way, adelaide has quite a unique feeling and meaning for me, always the backdrop for some creation inside my head, always appearing over the top of some pages, a glint out of the corner of my eye.

the situations of some people are so helpless and filled with hardships and in comparison adelaide is unspeakably beautiful, like a friend who is always in the corner and will help you out when you're in need. never obnoxious, but exciting in their own understated way. we are not decimated by war or overtly affected by poverty and death. it's so easy to make a mark in adelaide but still the right size to hide when you feel like you want noone to see you. i'm grateful that if i want to achieve something i have just the right amount of people for it to have an effect and for the rest of the world to hear it, while still having the freedom for it to be a practice pad for something else if i decide to reach higher.

when you know the right people a place can be filled with a completely different light: where once before it was tired and uninteresting, it becomes even more like a home, with hidden places opening up like you have a secret passcode, a 2nd home unravelling itself slowly and beautifully. it's like knowing the cheat codes to your favourite video games, like knowing exactly when to jump on that super mario level, and finding the hidden pipe that takes you to the 8th level. with my mind i can paint the city with new shades of gold, and drape the grey with strokes of aquamarine. your location does not define you but the attitude and the things that you make of it does.

from the highest building in the epicentre of the city the roman structures below seem to glow with a light befitting of a city three times it's size. in certain places i'll turn unknowingly down streets and feel like i've captured a little pocket of new york...at least until i reach the big apple myself, for whatever reason.

so much hatred has been aimed at me from the ants in this city, but the butterflies are the ones who matter, and the power of a butterflies wings can cause a cyclone.