The Donkey Wheel House: A Magical Vortex of Possibility

Enter all who dare to do not dream

In the past three weeks I have become a full-blown, totally addicted work-a-holic. It's not exactly what you think. Yes, I am quite interested in what I'm working on finishing up for this masters degree but that's not why I've fallen for the life of 9to9 days.

The real reason is because I can't wait to get out of bed and come to this beautiful building on Bourke St. Before I even get to my desk, I have to choose between getting my coffee with a side of philosophy or community development. Then from the moment I step through the big ornate wooden threshold, I'm not allowed to be a pessimist. These walls are strategically filled with individuals designing business structures around serving community needs, attempting all those enterprises frequently dubbed impossible and just generally functioning in a realm of infinite social possibility. It all blends beautifully like a stew of ideas, perspectives, skills and experience.

One of Alexar's fabulous Sunday night dinners 

Since taking up a space at Hub Melbourne, I have met more inspiring business trailblazers in three weeks than I have in my past 22 months in Melbourne. I've been learning everything from Persian proverbs to genetic algorithms from Alexar, a web developer. I've been learning how you force people to be social by redesigning urban spaces as well as how to brand myself and start a profitable blog from Tatyana, a feisty urban planner. I've had numerous intense economic discussions with Sam, a consultant and badass musician. Those are just some of the regulars that I have the pleasure of sharing my study break conversation with. Every week there's new people and heaps of great events and networking opportunities. It's not normally about business but I know that all I need is to ask for some direction and I shall receive.

This coffee card sits on my desk with me now, for good reason.

While I know what I'm capable of from my years of getting myself into pickles around numerous countries and contexts, the question of personal value is still something I struggle with. This place seems to understand that through sheer mental osmosis. All these happy, driven and successful people have more faith and confidence in me than I do. That's just the way they are. That's just the way this place is. That's the way you get shit done in life. I'm surrounded by people who don't take shit and and get things done, and mostly enjoy life along the way. This is exactly where I need to be.

As I get closer and closer to being finished with this last academic transformation, I feel like it's time to decide what 'growing up' means to me. It means figuring out how to mostly know what's next, why you're doing what you're doing and generally structuring your days around your values (and not the other way around). Here that isn't only possible, it's imperative.

Look Mom, I'm growing up...and crazy enough, I think I kind of like it!

**For more information on Hub's take on co-working & creative collaboration community check out more info at http://hubaustralia.com/ or come in for one of the tours.

Lovely globe trotting ladies...Oh My!

Paris skyline at night

It's funny how people perceive and prioritize things when traveling. For some, a posh hotel with fancy fittings in the bathroom and a suited concierge is non-negotiable and for others a good meal in good company with a few cheap drinks is living it up. Personally, I had the best time in Paris because I got to spend two days with a lovely friend of mine. While we had a blast seeing some of the sites, I think we could have had just as much fun going to a yarn museum or walking around non-famous parts of the city. I'll have some reflections on Paris at a later time but that will take a bit of research to put everything I experienced in the wider context.

Warschauer strasse at night

So far Berlin has been great. I made friends with a super cool Estonian girl on my walking tour of street art. Despite some challenges in coordinating without a phone, we managed to meet back up and walk to this really nifty place full of bars, a skatepark and even a massive climbing gym. We had a few cheap beers and enjoyed the lovely swing music while discussing all manner of topics. Dare I say, I doubt it will be the last time we cross paths.

A lovely piece by Alice (2013?) 

From my perspective, it's all about who you meet and making connections with people. It seems to be, the more I travel, the more I find independent, adventurous inquisitive ladies that are wandering the world for enlightenment and excitement. Oddly enough, I hear the same story constantly from them. People are forever surprised to meet solo female travelers. Yes, it is the 21st century. Yes, all of these women I've met so far are from developed countries where women play basically equal roles in societies. And yes, these are almost all educated, motivated ladies doing their own thing back home...So why the surprise? How long is it going to take for global cultures to recognise the solo female traveler as a "normal" and important part of the travelers' community?

This is RP, Now meet BV, The Rest is History

Photo thanks to Luke... I think?

You'd probably never give this odd array of rowdy cats a second glance on the street or train, but add a mic and a stage and its a whole different story. The room might be barely filled but this night in Newcastle is nothing but love. Heads bobbing to a situational soundtrack thats aphrodisiac, education, auditory safety blanket, and all friendship. Kids of all ages desperately seeking flow in a disjointed daily grind unsatiated but awash of hustle with little to no thrills. These are songs to walk across a landscape to, help you through the proverbial dust storms, help you not just look but see those around you for all their bizarre beauty. This is not product to fill a background, something to be consumed sitting down. This is art in motion, pulses of life, all bigger than them who create, them who ingest, that which goes on in between. This is trial and error of talent, balls, and passion boiled down over the last decade in living rooms and late night pubs to create this collective of unique sounds and ideas. These are friends that blur the definition of family and rarely fit into exactly one genre neatly.

Initiation came four years ago upon waking up in a strange bedroom, safe and warm to the sound of some interesting bedroom rap introduced by none other Jake and Elwood Blues. It was just supposed to be another night of hectic music, a few pints, then back to Manly to pass out at daybreak with the ghosts and bandicoots as usual. But plans dissolve and next thing you know you're tragically hungover but accidentally cracked the code of this grossly commercial city. You've found the den of culture; fresh with overspray, surrounded by saxophones and MPCs, and smelling downright funky. You're not going to find beats and rhymes that make your heart expand at Circular Quay. You can't find friends that don't mind if you have a cry in their garden at a hostel bar. The best parts of Sydney aren't for sale, they can only be found down proverbial back allies at the end of that night you've given up on. That's where I started meeting the colorful cast of this Big Village family.

Photo thanks to Kevin..I mean Damon. 

So fast forward to last weekend and I'm chilling in the impromptu artspace that is the roof in beautiful Sydney sun catching up and tossing the footy. It is obvious that the projected departure time was nothing but a nice idea but, after all, this crew IS the show so soundcheck happens when it happens. Shoes optional but step lightly on account of the shards of glass, rusty bottle caps, and watch out for the soft spots. All in good fun, take another sip of luke cold beer and take in a nice long mental picture. Just remember to bring the CDs this time. It's always better when you can actually sell your music.

If I had to summarize the following 48 hours it would have to be something like: boxes, beer, scroot! scroot!...yes scroot (can't really explain), 'another pee break!', soundcheck, hype, 'No you cannot take that hoodie, please give it back', footy in the street, back on road, sleep, wake up, coffee, do it again but this time without sleeping and add one really yummy steak and substitute some penis jokes for a debate on the validity of reality. Next thing I know, Sunday afternoon came way too soon. The mad dash to the airport took about 5 hours including a stop off to randomly visit somebody's kid but I was on the flight as planned, oddly conflicted about what just happened. It was the perfect finale to the past three weeks but why do I always get a little choked up when parting ways with this side of Sydney?

This is the real life embodiment of one of the facets of this illusive Oz that keep me chipping away at the immigration bullshit in order to etch out a home in this gorgeous but unforgiving land. When I throw caution to the wind and find myself facing homeless nights, foodless weekends, or just nocked down by failure I've always been shown a hand by Mute, Smurf, or Billie to name a few. I can't name too many other artists on my ipod that I can say that about.

Photo thanks to Damon

At this point I feel like the music gives more than it gets but as they keep getting more and more Triple J love and touring like crazy, I can see this train gaining some steam. It all goes to show you what can happen when you're nice to everybody, even some seemingly crazy, sloshed dude at a show who tries to bum a cigarette off you then proceeds to tell you he's a rapper.

Thanks a ton to the BV family for an awesome weekend and making great music, art, and energy to keep it all in beautiful perspective :)

*Check out the tunes and videos in the Big Village link to the right of this post.*