“If you limit your choice only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want, and all that is left is a compromise."
Robert Fritz, The Path of Least Resistance




"We must be careful about what we pretend to be."
Kurt Vonnegut



"Go into the arts. I'm not kidding.
The arts are NOT a way to make a living.
They are a very human way of making life more bearable.
Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly,
is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven's sake.
Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories.
Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem.
Do it as well as you possibly can.
You will get an enormous reward.
You will have created something."
Kurt Vonnegut




In a modern day capacity, obviously I disagree that people cannot make a living from the arts. 
Maybe, Vonnegut would too.

However, 
it is not surprising Vonnegut felt this way, as he was an unsuccessful book author * until the Piano Player and Slaughterhouse 5 were published.

It was not only his unsuccessful novels that led to this belief system. 
He bore witness to his mother's writing flops, which extended to his father's abandonment of a normal life and into a world as a dreamy artist. 
His father was poor, yet happier.



After seeing and feeling such failure, this may have been an excuse to give up writing. 

More excuses could have followed with the following hardships - he was drafted into wars of that era, even though he possessed an anti-war attitude; lived through the Depression, by which his family's fortune disappeared overnight; his mother committed suicide and other family members passed away; his inability to remain financially secure in a 'real' job, as his father saw it; being captured on various occasions by the Germans, and other adversities.



Despite all of this...

his ongoing passion for writing and becoming a 'successful' author,
remained strong in his heart. 
By successful, Vonnegut was referring to gratification of his soul, not on a fiscal level.
This is not surprising, as he was not "irked" when his family's fortune disappeared overnight.

Money did not drive him! 


So,

this post is dedicated to all the creatives who face hardships; 
that receive critical reviews; 
are not featured in galleries; 
are still struggling to receive recognition for their creative wares, etc.
Do not...
 under any circumstances, give into those 'real' jobs!


Seek inspiration from both the dead, 
                   and the living creatives, like Vonnegut!
Get to know their histories, what led them to say 'fuck off' to adversity and hold steadfast to their passion. 



"Passion. 
Your soul's scream, to listen to your heart".
Rusty

Put simply,
I love buttons.

'The old and chipped, 
the coloured, the plain,
the odd and ugly,
and of course,
                       the handmade'. *
Rusty


I think every family has a 'button box' that has been handed down through the generations, to either be added to or taken from.
I remember sitting with my nan in the kitchen, a cup of black tea and a piece of late night toast in front of us, going through her button box.
Sometimes, while the grownups were in the kitchen nattering, I would sit quietly in her lounge room, just digging through those buttons.
Sorting them onto the carpet, first by colour, then by size.
Then mix them all up and do it again.
Such childlike delight!


It's funny, isn't it? 
Those moments of us talking, sharing, eating, drinking, Xmas dinners, and holidays, are like snapshots in time, based around a box of buttons.
Thinking about all of this, it is hardly surprising that I possess a high regard for these round little treasures.

So,
the days I head out with Kel and our mum, to scour the op shops and recycling centres, it always holds the promise of a great 'find'.


'I dig and prod and poke around,
hitting the spots where no one goes,
under the shelves and on the ground,
and there they sit, all alone.

Please take us, they say with their eyes,
our only friend  has been .... Mr Glass Jar,
I can't bear to bid them 'good bye',
so, a dollar is paid and then home in the car'.
Rusty


The glass jar is the added bonus, as I am a bower bird with those too. 
Kel and I have way too many.
In our defence, they do have a good home with us.
They make interesting little ornaments, vases, & hold alls for our crafty bibs and bobs.
Not forgetting, our family, friends and guests always become a wee bit interested, when they see them. 
They sit in neat little clusters, all along our kitchen cupboard tops and on the window sill.
I digress.
Back to the button box!

Part one of the story is 
                'finding them'.
Part two is,
     'what to do with them ?'

After settling down, from our outing, we introduce them to the others, 
where they sit getting to know each other.
Until, one of us comes along, feeling and looking around to find the perfect ones for our new creation. 


The ever so personal relationship between button and item, is unique in each circumstance. 
We invest a great deal of time and a huge amount of love into every item we make.
It is often the simplest detail that means whether our creation will be sold to a loving home, or if it will remain shelved for a while longer.
Details are important!
Meaning the button is important!

If you have been reading my blog since I began it in August, you will know I have a bit of a thing for digging into the origins of everything.

So, here we go...

Buttons weren't used in the modern day sense as a fastener, instead they served their purpose as ornaments or seals. 
Evidence for this was discovered around 2800-2600 BCE in the Indus Valley Civilisation.
At this same location, around 2000 BCE, buttons were carved into geometric shapes from seashell and had holes pierced into them.
They were also found in China and Rome at Bronze Age sites, around 2000-1500BCE.

Buttons used as closures appeared in the 13th Century in Germany. At this point, buttons were the 'thing' to be used on clothes. It opened up new clothing opportunities, whereby closer fitting garments could be successfully held together. 
In this same era, in Paris, there were button making guilds, where buttons were made out of a variety of materials including wood, bone, brass, pewter, gold, and silver.
Many artisans began investing their time into creating fine buttons such as French artist, Antoine Watteau, through to Wedgwood, Limoges, and Staffordshire.

Buttons became widespread by the late 18th Century, as factories were punching out buttons.
WWII saw the introduction of plastic arrive in society, thus, making for a 'simpler' styled and 'cheaper' made button. In saying this, there are still many button makers that specialise in designing and creating, quality, non mass produced, artistic buttons.

This is why I love the vintage, the antique and the handmade button.
So, much so, that Kel and I create our own buttons from fallen branches by using a scroll saw to slice them and a Dremel to add holes.

So,
in all fairness to the button,
with its variegated history,
I provided two odes to thee.*

Blessings,
Rusty 

Okay. 

So, in my last post titled '10 Dollars of Deep Contentment', we established that in my personal opinion, societal views towards same sex relationships have changed.

Particularly over the last several years.

We know this view can be extrapolated to the Australian population on a legislative level, 
for example -  Medicare, taxation, wills, superannuation, and social security.
As an aside, I remember how liberating and special it was for Kel and I to work out who was going to be numero uno on our Medicare card...

it ended up being me *smiles*.


I dug a little further and decided to hit the A.B.S. for some stats.

This information is as current as the last census in 2011.
I am keen to see the stats from the next one.


So...

since 1996, there has been a growing, yet standard increase in same sex relationships.
Yet, despite this trend, coupled with a reasonable amount of public pressure for gay marriage, I ponder how many more months, years, before I can marry my Kel.

Probably not until Abbott is out of office.
Crossed fingers, there is no reelecting him.

I understand there is still quite a bit of negativity towards homosexuality.
However, it is almost as if it ‘those’ very people, the ones that frown upon 'our sort', are now the ‘same ones’ frowned upon by the majority who support gay rights.


I feel we are no longer the minority. 
The out group.




Oh ... the bitter irony.


Here I sit in my super comfy bed, eating my gluten free, fat free soup, surrounded by two of my three fur babies and am gobsmacked by what has just occurred in the last 24 hours.
This post was saved under 'drafts' on my site here, until I could come back today to finish it.
My last sentence was 'The out group'.

The moment Kel told me Abbott is no longer our P.M.* I uttered a loud 'YESSSSS' and then 'now we will be able to get married. Who is in?'
Kel replied, 'Malcome Turnbull. You better see what is happening with the marriage situation online'.

So, excitedly,

I jumped onto Google and the first thing I discovered was that Turnbull is still aligned with Abbott's policies on climate change

                         and.....


                                       gay marriage.



So, there's my answer.



Blessings.
Particularly to all the souls who support gay marriage.

That deep sense of needing to make, to create, to form, to play, to experiment with the unneeded. 



The unneeded that lives along the side of the road, at recycling centres, in the bush, on the beach, in junk yards, in our homes.

Junk jewellery, crappy shower rings, unloved jumpers, discarded palings, old toys.

Nature’s sticks, branches, driftwood, shed feathers, vines.



I see so much beauty in all that exists around me.

Do you share this feeling with me?

Do you see the discarded, the unloved, the unused that deserves to have a new home?

Do you see that it can be overhauled and upcycled into a prettier, worthier item, than the one that formerly took it’s first breath, after being manufactured?




I still buy the new at times, although I always feel a mild guilt. 

I know there are some things in life that still need to be bought first hand. 

It’s not the same buzz though. 

In fact, there is no buzz. 

It’s just a requirement. 



The moments I know I am heading out to scrounge, definitely defines the fun moments in my life.

The hunt. 

The find. 

The pondering. 

The designing. 

The creation. 

This is all what I get from finding an unloved item.



Thank you to all the junkers that provide the discarded items.

Thank you to all my fellow tinkerers that recreate them.


Blessings.

Begrudgingly, I walked away from my ten dollar parking spot, which allowed me to adventure around Newcastle, for a grand total of four hours.

I rounded the corner to  one of my favourite haunts to write and consume.

At the same time, with MacBook under one arm, shoeless, with my turquoise, felt bag hanging comfortably across my chest, I prayed to the universe/God/earth/everybody & anything, that I would get 'my' seat,

and…

Yes! 
Yes, I did!


The importance of seating is of utmost importance to me.

So, I picked the back bench seat, again, not only for the level of comfort it provides.
Certainly not on any cushiony comfort level anyway,
but,

more about the guaranteed 180 degree view, to quietly observe the comings and goings, the gatherings and the conversations to my right.

I liken my ears to unseen peeping Toms.
I have no guilt.



I am sitting relaxedly in my seat today, one foot up on the opposite chair, hair out and a chai latte to my left, ready to write.

Despite the loud, busy chatter, the jangling of keys, the tinkling of cutlery and the non-annoying thrum of cars outside the window, there is a comfortability on a zen level for me here.


I suppose you can find your zen even amidst chaos.
I do have the view of the beach to my right.
So, I am kind of cheating my way to zen.



Okay, interesting shit is happening.
Firstly, I ordered my poached eggs and I received scrambled.
I didn’t mind as I had the thought, ‘I am meant to have them this way for a reason’.

My zen spot is, indeed working.

Sure enough, the chef saunters out and says, ‘You ordered poached, I am so sorry!’.
To which I cheerily replied, ‘No problem at all. In fact, I thought that maybe I was meant to have them this way for some reason’.

She didn’t even bat one eyelid at my weird retort.
So, either she decided to humour me, or genuinely felt guilt at the egg situation, she ordered a large chai latte for me on the house.

Like I said, correct seating arrangement is everything.
Seat leads to zen, zen leads to chai, chai leads to more zen.


Okay, so I am eating and two middle aged ladies arrive to my right, donning exercise wear and ever so slight perspiration on the face. Maybe they don’t take their exercise seriously, or else they had the ocean breeze to cool them down.
Either way, they began to discuss a thesis and simplifying life. 

Great! I was onto something.


Hold up! 

I look up and notice two young ladies, barely out of their teens, sporting their very sensible clothing, neat pony tail and braids, with one wearing glasses. 
Both have their arms around the other, offering support.
Then neat ponytail girl gently tugs on neat braids girl’s jeans.

There you go two unsuspecting young ladies, not fearing retribution from the general public and showing, affection to each other. 

A soft, loving kiss is placed by each other on the forehead and the mouthing of ‘I love you’.

and then, 
neat braids girl dons her apron 

and, starts her shift at this cafe.


I am genuinely impressed.
I am not sure if it is the openness of their gay relationship in the public arena, in the workplace, 

or,

maybe, I am impressed at how far society has evolved. 
No. 
It’s a combination of the two.


The public. 
Men, boys, women, girls, older, middle aged and younger, can accept this display of affection from the two neat girls,

without ogling,
without lewd comments,
without raised eyebrows, displayed towards their companions before lowering their faces to their cutlery and plate.

That was worth more than ten dollars.

FIRSTLY, WHAT CAUSES DANDRUFF







Image Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dandruff


Dandruff can be an absolute pain in the butt. Not only does it itch, it leaves flaky, white scales on everything and people think it's a sign of poor hygiene (which is is definitely NOT).


It's always been one of those where does it come from problems, but here are a few thoughts:
Hair dyes and NOP (non-organic products)
Not enough washing 
Not enough brushing to rid the scalp of skin 
Over brushing 
Hormonal imbalance
Dry skin, particularly in Winter and windy weather
Stress
Certain skin conditions
A fungus called Malassezia
Not enough fatty acids, zinc or vitamin B
Airborne irritants
Poor circulation
Genetics

Have a look at the link attached to 'A fungus called Malassezia' to check out more information on dandruff. 

FREE DIY ORGANIC SHAMPOO AND SOOTHING AFTER RINSE
Hit THE LINK ABOVE for the post with our DIY organic shampoo and soothing after rinse which removes dandruff. 

We use it and can vouch for it in our recipes. 
Mind you, what works for both of us, may not work for you.

And.....if you have some DIY Homemade Organic Remedies, please share in comments.

This essential oil has been proven to contain antibacterial and antiseptic elements. 
This is particularly helpful as a common fungus, Malassezia, is determined to be present when cultures of dandruff have been taken.
It feels soothing, reduces the itch, lifts the plaques off the scalp, helps to combat Malassezia and smells brilliant!

After a lot of digging, for many hours, I investigated the safety of lavender oil.
This is what I found.

Heather M A Cavanagh, states that "Lavender is traditionally regarded as a 'safe' oil and, although it was recently reported that lavender oil, and its major constituent linalyl acetate, are toxic to human skin cells in vitro, the relevance of this in vitro toxicity to dermatological application of Lavandula oils remains unclear. Despite the apparent safety of lavender oil as a topical agent, oral administration is not recommended".


Robert Tisserand states that "any toxicity to human skin cells in vitro, means the test substance has to be in direct contact with isolated cells in a petri dish. Without that direct contact, cell membrane damage will not take place at those low dilutions". He goes on to say "Any type of in vitro test is only suggestive of a possible effect. You can never assume that the same effect will take place in the living body."[36]

I don't have any qualms using this, but then I am not planning on becoming pregnant. 
Some pregnant women probably wouldn't even be aware of all the effects commercial products have on your body, let alone natural ones produced by mother nature.

I am not a doctor, herbologist, aromatherapist, so use your common sense, as I am sure you do, and conduct your own research & talk to your doctor. 



DIY ORGANIC ANTI-ITCH SCALP SPRAY FOR DREADLOCKS

Materials Needed:
1x 500ml bottle
6-10 drops lavender essential oil*
500ml water
10 minutes of your time
 
Method:
1]  Ensure your bottle is clean
2] Add water to the bottle
3] Add lavender oil
4] Shake bottle thoroughly to disperse oil through the water
5] Part your dreads with your fingers to get to the dandruff
6] Mist your affected scalp 
7] Do not rinse out

*Optional: you can add a few drops of teetree oil in the spray as well

Another post will be arriving soon on the properties of teatree oil and how it aids in dandruff relief.

After being away in the promised land, where all your worries are diminished, whether it be at festivals, travelling or on vacation, you find you eventually return home. 
Sometimes, the weight of the world can come crashing down on you like a 1/2 tonne elephant. 



The link here is to the Elephant Journal, where Steve and Troy post on how to bring a little of  what you loved about being away into your daily life at home.


I remember the very first time I experienced this feeling as a child. 
For two weeks, I had been at my nan's and getting back home was the weirdest, surreal feeling.
I just wanted the holiday to go on forever.

Funnily enough, even as a seven year old, I brought home newly acquired skills, so I could keep part of that holiday going forever.
Crocheting and knitting.
I began crocheting and knitting with great fervour, almost everyday.


Sadly, somewhere between the time I left home and after travelling for many years, I lost this knack.
I 'settled down' and went to uni. 
I felt like I had joined the sheeple culture.
I worked in the psych field as a coordinator, remunerated well fiscally, yet not emotionally.

Every fucking day, I began to feel like I had short changed myself.


The holidays stopped.
The passion for standing up for what I believed in stopped. 
The interesting, off beat interactions stopped.
The spontenaity stopped.

The sadness began.
The craving for ridding my shackles began.
The rheumatoid arthritis began.
My new relationship began.
My new career as an artisan began.


Despite, being confined at many different times over the last five years, I have never felt happier and freer.
I would much prefer to be of a lesser physical freedom*, than emotionally and intellectually.

Interestingly, I never stopped crocheting or knitting.
I always needed to feel my nan was close to me.
I am getting choked up as I think of her now.


Fittingly, I dedicate half this post to my dear Nan, who is no longer on this earth, but still provides me with comfort.
I devote the second half, to my wife in life, who for five years in February, believes in me as an artisan, and as a being who could change their life back to the way it was.
The better me.

In closing, click that link I posted above and here.

Grab what you need from it and go live the life you know you need to live!


* This only pertains to me and in no way do I intend offence to those that suffer a physical ailment 
binds them more physically, than on a psychological level.

Namaste.

Namaste translates from Sanskrit to "I bow to the divine in you" & is used when greeting, departing from or thanking another regarding a kind gesture.

It is not just used with family, friends and acquaintances, but is used as a way of initiating contact with a stranger. 

Although this word expresses politeness, courtesy, honor, and hospitality from one person to the other, it goes deeper than this.
It recognizes the belief that the life force, the divinity, the Self or the God in me is the same in all. 
Acknowledging this oneness with the meeting of the palms, we honor the god in the person we meet.

The correct positioning is with the hands pressed together, palms touching, fingers pointing up, & the thumbs close to the chest.
 It is commonly practiced in India, Nepal and parts of Asia.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Namaste

🙏🏻

I have absolutely no clue as to what my purpose is in life. 

Do you?

If you do, how did you know?

How did you arrive at your conclusion?

Do you think it will change?




For me, I have spent many an hour thinking what I am here for.

Is it to meet people and provide a piece of knowledge with them, a sense of connection that is needed, or a hundred other reasons.

Am I here now with no particular purpose except to just, be. 

Be.

Is that such a bad thing?

Are people coming into my life to gear me up for something that is for a particular purpose later on?




Eventually, I arrived at the idea that maybe, just maybe, if I am truly happy, which will come from inner peace, then I have my purpose.