Zoned out on a tram today, it took me a few moments to realise that next to me sat a woman with a huge bare belly rolled out over her pants like a still-shot of a full blown tsunami. Shocking I know. But really, I wasn’t shocked. I simply continued to scan my eyes around the tram, not really focusing on anyone, but mainly taking a short stroll through my sub-conscience.

I haven’t visited for a while, and she was a little overgrown, I must say. It was as though I had trapped a small Leo-Lion in there and left it to fend for itself for weeks, scampering about chasing dreams like mice before absconding through a small window. It is funny how when you leave a space for what seems such a short amount of time, how quickly it can erode. With the cat gone, my sub conscience looked like a dilapidated city apartment block with an idea smudged on the hazy splash-backs that are my eyes, a positive thought crunched and crooked, caught between synapses, confidence hanging from brainy sinew like old cobwebs in an attic.

While I was there, I cleaned up a bit and rearranged a few things before the belly charged its way in. How rude! But, why wasn’t I shocked? Then began a thought process: I’m not shocked because I have seen it before. I’m not shocked because I don’t care and the owner of the belly probably doesn’t either. There are more important things to care about. There are other things that shock me. Like what? Usually when I’m shocked about something I have an inappropriate reaction to stress which usually involves fits of laughter. I hate funerals because no one else sees the funny things like I do. Well except for a few exceptional people I know well. Panic. So do many things make me laugh? Sometimes. But there are times when the old laugh box ain’t being tickled.

If I have lost you its all good because I will now try to wrap this point up like tomorrow’s lunch. If we think we know everything then we are being closed minded, nothing is shocking to us and we are not learning. It is inevitable that at some stage we will get to certain intervals in our lives where nothing is shocking or funny because we have seen too much. That’s okay. But after a while, we need to push ourselves out of this comfort zone so that we see more. So that we learn more. So that we laugh. So that we cry. So that we feel lost. So we feel open. So that we feel alive. So that we gain perspective. I don’t think that even after my life experiences that I know everything about the world and I challenge you to approach the next old person you see and ask them if they think they know everything there is to know about the world because I think that even in our last minutes, we, as humans, are still learning. That’s why, I need to visit my sub-conscience every now and then to feel like a student of life, to be open and creative and child-like – to feel young – and not feel busy or old or haggard.

Whilst sorting this out over a cup of tea in the lounge-room that is my sub-conscience, I asked myself a question:

Why did you come here today?

I then listened carefully for an answer.

Well, it’s nice to catch up with old friends every now and then. Even if it is for a quick clean up and a cuppa. But I will try to visit again every day from now on, like the old days; because, there’s nothing worse than consistently asking a friend for a catch up only to hear the reply, ‘sorry I’m busy’.

Peace out.



Thanks to Carmel Debreuil for allowing me the opportunity to not only cherish this print called ‘Here Kitty Kitty’ but also for allowing me to include it on my blog. You can find Carmel’s work at or on Facebook at