Month.

Two weeks ago I tried to update my blog. Became completely distracted, but this is what I have so far.

I perhaps am a little late with the most recent update. Of course I am. My internet connection is yet to be established in my apartment (finally ordered this week!). I am a responsible employee and cannot blog while I am at work. Wireless in Ballarat is less than to be desired and most of my time in cafes are spent yakking with business owners and other customers. Of course the 'I forgot' or 'I was having to much fun to be bothered' excuse could be used, but that places blame back on me- something that as we all know I avoid pretty well.

There is so much to address and so much to share but unclear about where to possibly begin.

To start- my digital camera shit the bed during a trip to Melbourne. Two years of photographs and incessant power up and power downs = kaput. This week I will buy an upgraded version of the same camera and sign-up for a photo unlimited-upload website to fully document my experiences. I am being badgered, rightfully so, about sharing pictures. Everyone wants to see what Australia looks like. I can say, and with confidence, Australia looks very similar to the United States in many ways. Due to my lack of wheels I have not seen much of Australia and likely most of Ballarat. Ballarat, unlike what I've mentioned in the past, is far more peculiar that I originally thought. So funny the arbour scheme here! Coniferous trees, falling leaves and mighty palms! Some on Twitter even today suggest Ballarat has a Malasian influence (politically Malasian refugees are a hot-button issue and it is surmised it has been for a while). Punk kids still run rampant but now that I can access internet in my office (and have no reason to spend my days there anymore) I do not hang out at the Bridge Mall McDonalds for wireless. Or for any reason. I put back on the weight I lost in Canada (only about five pounds but I can feel it) but at least it is not at the hands of corporate fast 'food.' There is rural culture strong and prevalent but I could still find a high-culture resource. As I type I am sipping sapporo and eating octopus and fennel tapas dishes at a restaurant called "Portico." This week the "Ballarat Foto Bienalle" commenced. Artists and photographers from all over the world display their works in the local art gallaries, cafes and salons. It attracts hundreds if not thousands of global tourists and connoisseurs. I have seen several and they are fantastic. Not only is it relieving to have art as a culture in a small town but considering what else Ballarat is known for due to its location it is almost a miracle. Not many small towns in America with such agricultural prominence have the bevy of cultural emphasis as Ballarat. Two blocks from the Arts Academy Old Law Courts a window was kicked in from Friday night party-activity. This is also a college town, after all. So when people ask me, "what is Ballarat like?" it is so hard to answer. There are palm trees and college students and green activists and bogans (hicks) and Utes (low riding trucks with really long beds and short little wheels) and Indigenous cultures and tourists and Gold Rush Victorian buildings and...

But it is unlike any American college town I have ever seen.

No two places I lived extensively have ever been the same. Or even felt remotely close. New York was different than Phoenix. Phoenix was different than Amherst. Tempe is not like Ballarat. Ballarat is not realy much like Melbourne. Melbourne is kind of like New York but in many ways far more vivacious, more beautiful. I suppose Fredonia was much like Amherst- almost too similar, and why I felt at times like an undergraduate twenty-six year old graduate student.

The weather here has been absolutely dreadful and a bit bi-polar. An old Australian folk song describes our patterns as "Four Seasons in One Day," and is accurate. Mostly gray in the AMs but within hours it can be completely opposite. Temperature shifts by five degrees at the drop of a hat. Rainy. Cold. It is winter here in this hemisphere. Mostly feels like autumn. The Northeastern United States autumn still cannot be defeated for its crown as the best. But today the sun shone bright over Ballarat. And it was divine.

The conclusion of my second month in Ballarat is quickly approaching. It is a bit unbelievable how  fast the time passes. And how for a solid month I have delved into the business of art and connection. My mind, body, and finances are finally to make sense after so long. My typical fiscal responsibility slips and while hot on my mind I take it upon myself to enjoy my time in Ballarat. The job I'm in, while a job, of course, still feels more like a paid vacation and I am a tourist ravenous for new culture and ideas.

I am now moved in to my new apartment with a gentleman by the name of Tim. Unless the man did inconspicuous research and learned everything about me in order to relate, this man is the Australian mirror image.  He and I share an incredible amount in common- an uncanny collection of similarities that are just sheer spooky- from personal stories to love of travel; from insecurities to our response to over-indulgence...the same. In three weeks I've grown very comfortable with Tim very quickly and mostly because we just knew we would be mates (friends) immediately. This bloke (guy) knows everyone in this damn town. He is gregarious, chatty, very friendly and trustworthy- and when he is out amongst the public his infectious energy is like a magnet- people are drawn to him. Being in the penthouse apartment for the first month was nice and necessary but I feel less of a refugee now and it is super nice to have yet another amazing person in my life to come home and chat with. I have known great men in my life who have helped me simmer and concentrate and life-focus. Some of whom I have lived with for some period of time (Pat, Jason, and Judge, of course, who I still consider to be one of the best friends I ever had). Tim immediately is no exception.

But aside from people I live with there are the small communities of people who diversify my sociability and prevent me from going completely too homesick. I encountered an Anglican church early and spent the month worshiping and spiritually cleansing with them. Yakking, of course. Sipping tea. A man named Martin, was very friendly and introduced me to the market and auction culture in Ballarat. He is currently studying to be in the High Clergy for the Anglicans at a time. All the congregation there, the musical staff particularly, were quite excited to meet me and expressed great enthusiasm about my inclusion in their community. I met some fun Vietnam war vets who once in a while I'll share a glass of wine, watch the footy and talk about days gone by.

I cannot go without mentioned Chris and Alison over at a pie shop near the Arts Academy called "The Swallow's Nest." Alison lived in Melbourne before moving here and Chris is her husband who is a choral musician, formerly from Oxford. His warm rich baritone voice and knowledge of American popular culture from before I was borne keeps me coming back day after day. They also are some of the nicest people...their friendship, helpfulness and usage of American idioms I am thankful for daily. He calls me "Pard" (partner) and unfailingly greets me with a goold ole' "Howdy Pard, put 'er there." "How's ole Obama today?" "You betchya." He is a real riot.

I met a woman by the name of Laura at a cafe. We shared a real unique EFTPOS (debit card) exchange. The whole sparkly eye bit...Martin was with me and insisted that I trade numbers. I was too shy to do any such thing. Doors are not closing in America and I am in no hurry find me a bird (lady) here.

There are also the other random Americans in Melbourne! A gorgeous city...last weekend I spent the entirety there. A chocolate festival on the Harbour Esplanade enticed me to go (after a long run, of course). The "Melbourne Chocolate Rush" as it was called. Sixty exhibits with free samples and a demonstration cooking course on the construction of chocolate flowers. The chocolate art! Stunning...simply stunning! And I have not eaten chocolate since, nor if I even had any desire could I justifiably do it. After the festival I headed home, enjoyed a glass of shiraz and fell fast asleep. The next morn I went back on the train (most beautiful train ride ever, just to mention) and watched a service at St. Patrick's Catholic Cathedral. EXTRAORDINARY architecture with high ceilings, elaborate stained glass windows and so many buttresses ... just gorgeous. After the service I accidentally stumbled into a proper [authentic] German Lutheran church with real German speaking Lutherans! Come to find out, they are hosting a major Bach festival in the 2011-2012 singing season and quite keen on my participation. I was so eager to learn more about them that in fact, tomorrow, I will hop back on a train to Melbourne to sit in a German Lutheran service which will be performed entirely in German. Hans Schroeder is responsible for welcoming me into their spiritual home. And, of course, for the allowance to taste meatloaf wrapped in a pastry shell with a side of carrot/vinegar/sultana salad. So blatantly German. Twenty minutes and a city circle tram later I was sharing a fancy meal with Sandy Glass and his partner Mark in Melbourne's Victoria National Gallery. Sandy holds a DMA from University of Arizona (Bruce Chamberlain's programme) and we also have so much in common in regards to who we know and where we have been. After a trio of decadent desserts the party moved to a bar outside of Federation Square, and several barley wines later the ideas just started pouring! My belief in God and my relationship with divinity has exponentially grown since my break-up with an Atheist and meeting Marius and Alina...and at the risk of sounding too preachy, there really is something to be said about fate, divine intervention, whatever you want to call it. How random, hey? [eh?] that in the middle of a continent almost 2,500 kilometers [1,555.427981 miles] away from home I would have discussion about topical subjects related to Arizonan choral culture with another mate who lived it? So strange!...and beautiful.

Post barley wine pies and Hungry Jacks [Burger King] might not be too helpful with the whole weight loss thing. I may have stretched the truth, slightly, about the fast food thing.

Not everything here has been peaches and cream. Distance and some cultural adjustments are resulting in some problems in regards to my life in the States...people, money, etc.  But after an enlightening conversation with a new friend here I decided to live completely in the moment. My entire life has been too focused on my future and too saturated in my reminiscence of the past. Most of my personal and professional struggles, have always been due to my constant worry of progression. Being the next, something, or having this pressure of being some revolutionary prodigy of something, as fast as I can. I just turned twenty six years old. I am a lecturer at an internationally accredited college. I am a student of life and so just because I am teaching means nothing about me knowing everything, nor will I feel any more responsibility to pretend to know more than I do, or to feel guilt for not. Most of my learning block is due my repentance for the "I should have known that already" bit [idea/part]. Also, to let go of your past is to let go of certain people in your life, and also to let go of the guilt associated with the hypothetical band-aid that could have fixed it. Part of not letting people and situations go is due to my self-inflated ego; the disbelief that I mean something different, or possibly nothing, to them anymore. It is a bit of a harsh wake-up call and self realization I had to make. Of course I sometimes make poor judgment as to how to alleviate the pressure of the past and the cycle repeats and repeats...Australia is the change of pace I needed. To become a functional person in society but to also rediscover my love of learning new things. And seeing new cultures. And returning to love. And to trust love.