Do you draw what you see in front of you or what you dream about?

Where the birds have found their voices

Walking beneath a jarrah crown canopy so dense the light barely filters through,

it's hard to believe,

I am just 90 minutes from Perth.

I am in the old timber town called Dwellingup.

Deep in the forest I find the ghost settlement.

Walking around the abandoned old cottages,

around the whitewashed church where no one pray any more,

big city pressures are easing from my mind.

I am lost in different time and space.

I have set out on a 12,4 km walk from Yarragil River to River Road, which is part of the long distance trai,

WA's Bibbulmun Track stretching an incredible 1 000 km through hills,

ghost towns,

and ghost farms. I have never been in a landscape so eerily quiet.

Here you can convince yourself, you are the only one on Earth. I follow old timber trail sometimes weering back among the trees,

finally before me open a view of abandoned farm, spotting the derelict farm house in the distance,

I can not escape the urge to look through its dusty windows if someone is still around.

Track winds through coastal plains,

once I enter the forest again, the big hollow-out jarrah stand by trail and the waugal sign it bears points me in the right direction.

At the end of my trail I discover an overgrown sunlit plateau where the humans lost their trace and the birds have found their voices.

Deep in the forest

I find the area

strewn

with think branches

that have been sheard

from thick trunks

by the wild storms

that pounded the region

in recent months.

In some parts

trunks

have been

uprooted

leaving gaping holes

where proud trees

once

stood tall.

And above it all,

darkened ruins

mark the place,

where an old governor

built his holiday retreat.

I open my sketch book

and start to draw,

not what I see,

but what I hear,

what I smell

and what I feel

this place

looked like,

long time ago

A late Victorian house

perched on a hill

with sweeping views

of the forest

bellow,

the house of fragile beauty.

Moving quietly

around

not to wake up

sleeping ghosts,

I touch gently

its delicate bones

of finely detailed

timber fretwork,

cast-iron brackets

and balustrade.

'A portrait of late Victorian house'

I write on the top

of my sketch paper

and start to draw

the deteriorating

carved wood,

iron fence,

the distressed effect

of peeling

painted timber

and suddenly

in my imagination

a lady's face appears

among the beautiful patina

of frame,

her wrinkled skin

hidden behind a veil

speaks of age

and the wear of time.

Just like the old house

she is a ghost

balancing

on the brink

of non-existence.

The last owner

in black velvet

looks straight at me,

her pleading eyes

reveal the traces

and pains

of former inhabitants,

constructing a kind of mythology

or archeology of decay.

An abandoned Victorian house

standing

after 150 years

inspires you

to imagine

the history of its habitation

and the events

that have occured

within its walls.

The charm and nostalgia

of the grieving widow

in the old house,

their muted twilight colours

and dark menancing shadows.

An old house,

a motionless face

behind a dark veil

as if seen

in a bad dream.

Picture of an old age

and decay,

the pictorial drama

of an old lady

in an old house,

in the space

between

old culture

and nature,

the owner is dying

the house is the victim,

a disquieting sense

of just how

rickety and unstable

ones life,

a built structure

is

when confronted

with

the unstoppable

forces

of nature

and time.

A portrait of late Victorian house

becomes a portrait

of a lady in black,

locked in its ancient walls,

forever.

When I finish my drawing,

I look around,

the plateau of fallen trees

changes the mood,

cold shadows embrace me,

the ruins of the house

are lost in dark.

Rushing back home

through the damp forest

and airy bush

which crackles underfoot

I leave behind

the many moods

of the forest,

that never cease

to change.

It is dynamic.

It is alive.

When I sleep,

that night,

warmed

by the flue

from the log fire,

the lady in an old Victorian house,

smiles at me

in the warm light

reflected on her face,

by my hand,

she has become

alive,

again.

How do you figure out if a belief is true or not?

The nature of truth itself

Stepping off the plane in a winter rain as a self described 'fellow traveller', he was here to soak up the vibe,

to witness the change in the most obese nation in the world, the nation with the empty beaches and endless parks, the next day, , in one of them he found..

a middle aged businessman sweating there to loose his extra weight under the watchful eye of his personal trainer.

His mobile rang and he picked it up shouting angrily that he wants to change the menu of his prepared party for a hundred guests, he doesn't care if food is already made and go to waste, he pays and wants something else with less sugar and fat

The trainer, a vegan by choice with holistic training under his belt, reassured the man that one night doesn't mean anything if he is not ready to change his whole lifestyle accordingly..

The fellow traveller watched a close-range encounter between two men driven by conflicting codes of honour and decency.

Both Australian men of similar age, conservative, generally consistent about their core values and their respect for traditional authority and uncertain about radical change.

Julian Cribb,the athour of the book: 'The coming famine: The Global Food Crisis and What We Can Do to Avoid It',  approached them with the question he came here to ask.

"Do you fear that we run out of our food supply?" The men stopped on their track unsure what to think, while Julian added that the food system is already creating misery for the poor.

"It's not our problem, mate," the businessman waved his hand. The trainer smiled politely: " We eat too much here and people pay their price."

"Maybe you would be happy to hear then, that by the middle of this century the world will be unable to feed itself unless there are radical changes to agriculture, land and water usage..."

"Good news for us then, no more problems with being overweight," laughed the businessman cheerfully.

It is the biggest challenge we face because it is even more immediate than climate change, Julian added urgently.

"Modern diet has to change," the trainer said in agreement with Julian, "and the way modern cities recycle resources, there is so much waste."

Julian smiled broadly: "Precisely..." "Lady Gaga's concert tonight," the businessman chipped in, "she has her famous meat dress on, no danger of not enough meat there, ha,ha, ha."

"And look at that endless mass media food advertisements," the trainer pointed the finger at him: " There is more food not less."

"As things stand," Julian sighed impatiently,"we will probably lose about a quarter of our food supply in the next few decades when the world's population will grow from 7 billion to 10 billion."

But both men had already lost interest in his prophecy concentrating on their more immediate concern, how to survive in the world of food over-supply...

The same evening in a pouring rain struggling to get through the Lady Gaga's fans, many dressed in 'made home' meat clothes, he boarded the plane again and left the country of the most obese people who don't believe in incoming famine...

and what about you, what do you believe, where do you stand?

Human beings are gregarious

conformist

and suggestible,

why else

would they

spontaneously

adopt

inarticulate idioms

picked up

from the media,

shouted in their ears

every day.

The same phrases

that sounded so incomprehensible

and suddenly

with every repetition

unbelievable

becomes

believable.

And why do we

do

more dangerous

things

such as adopting

fantastic ideas,

populist prejudices

and simplistic

political ideologies?

Why, in fact,

do individuals

want to give up

their independence

and become

part of a mass?

Perhaps it is too much

of an effort

a responsibility

to stand on your own feet,

take the trouble

to find out

what you really believe.

We just like to be alike,

likeness

in the deepest sense

of the word

doesn't consist

in the photographic

accuracy

with which we note

every mole

or age blemish

but in the overall sense

of a movement

and life

within the person,

in capturing

that impression

of a living human being.

We can recognise

a friend

even from behind

and in the distance

from their stance

and their gait,

do we really

want to believe

what they believe in

for their sake?

Looking

at the dark

silhouetted

trees

that emphase

the depth of space,

I am as well

searching

for the metaphor,

for the depth

in the unkown

surrounded by shadows

of long passed associations,

based on memory

it is as though

observation

and experience

that have been concentrated

through the passing years,

are just files

in my head

neatly compacted

ready to be recalled

flavoured

by my imagination

to form the belief

I want to believe in.

We need to believe,

we like to believe

shadowing the beliefs

of fellow human beings

without losing touch

with the world

we rely on our spontaneity

and authenticity

and repeat

the inarticulate idioms

shouted by those

with the strongest voice,

instead

we should separate them

from the familiar faces

those idioms of supposed truth

we trust without doubt

they should be looked at

in silence

listening only

to our own mind and heart....

"Knowledge is opportunity,"

2011 Physics

Noble Prize winner

Brian Schmidt

likes to repeat.

He found more than 50 supernovas

whose light was weaker

than expected

which suggested

the expansion of the universe.

Incredibly,

Albert Einstein

reached the same conclusion in 1917

but then thought

it must be wrong,

there was just not enough evidence

to confirm his belief.

Fearing that his constant quest

for answers

to such cosmic mysteries

may consume him,

Brian creates his own way

how to look at things.

He is still hungry

to unlock more answers,

but also knows

it is journey

rather than destination

that counts.

He travels with open mind

to look for anything

his direction

and point of view

depends

what he finds

along the way.

That is how science work,

he finally said.

Is it possible to believe

that our beliefs

should form in the same way?

Is it possible to believe

that our belief system

is an open road

with new logical conclusions,

with new arguments

based on well researched evidence

with new points of view

with never ending quest for answers?

Is it possible to believe

that our beliefs are true

only until someone prove them wrong?

You are not sure

what to believe any more?

You are on the right path

to find the truth.

Your road is full of bends

and never ends,

my fellow traveller,

you often loose the track

but there is no return,

you are tired and stuck

and grab

for the 'ready made doctrines'

the closed in answers

that provide an immediate relief

but no way out.

Empty your luggage

of those unnecessary things

and struggle on,

your know now

you don't need to have answers,

you just need to keep looking....

When you meet by chance

fellow travellers

on that bumpy road

feel their heartbeat

and offer a friendly hand,

but resist

to follow their footsteps

so easily visible

in the sand,

make your own...