calory

So, I'm back on the island of no fucks given (actually meant that in a homey, heartwarming sense). Still got another 2 weeks of holiday before I'll get back into my chef's wear. I've been, ever since Thailand, quite motivated to use this free time to develop my art stuff and practice of yoga. I'm afraid that I've lost all skills because of constantly working. Always at work.

 

I know that even if you're given a talent, it still won't become anything if you don't practice it. It's like that with my art. I know I've got potential, just looking back at myself growing up; always holding a pen since I was 2y old and man, I've been pretty impressive for my age. And then I started to work and almost instantly; I stopped evolving. Now, I'm stuck at the mental drawing-stage of 16. Damn, I think I even went back a few years! Surely forgot some techniques and killed a lot of creativity. I've stopped evolving.

 

My mind used to be a sprouting wild forest, stretching all over my vision, through my soul and arm and out on the paper. Oh man, all the creativity and techniques that just came to me naturally! Thinking back, I feel really impressed of the younger me, especially the teenage one. I can really feel the difference, because I remember how idea after idea popped into my head. I drew for hours every day for most of my teenage years. I remember how it felt like when my head was full of visions I could reach.

 

At first, I didn't realise that this was something I have to work for to revive. I've spent 6 years waiting for ''the inspiration'' to come back; It does not work that way. I've realised that if I want to revive whatever talent I once had, I really need to work on it. Learn those techniques back, continue through failed attempts and maybe, maybe my head will start flowing with creativity again. Maybe it's just me being very motivated in this moment, but I really want to try now. I want to see how far back I can reach. I want my wild forest back.

The sweet escape was a bittersweet mix between intense dancing joy, and ambushes of depressive realitychecks.

 

The time up north was unfortunately quite depressing overall, but considering that it was the last place me and my ex had spent our last holiday.... Let's just say that I saw it coming. However, it was really nice to spend some time with the lost family. Drinking, eating and driving around together... Sometimes I wonder if it'd be the same if we met more frequently. One will never know.

 

And then we went south.

 

Oh Pha-ngan. This place grows closer and closer to me. Especially with this visit where we actually hung out like/with locals. Met my maltese party crew up and oh my god, the first 4 days was just a hurricane of FUN. We danced, we drank, we had liquid love and we laughed. Danced til dawn, and welcomed the sun back up in the morning; bliss. Obviously, a downhill had to come. After a 53h dance-binge, my time was up. I walked through the jungle high as a kite, made it home and slept for 13h straight. 

 

The next 4-5 days was detox times. Wasn't feeling too well, which was understandable after drinking and dancing in the heat for days, barely touching food. Spent those days just taking care of myself.. Eating, beaching and resting. A lot. I was surprised that I didn't feel like partying again for so long; normally I would struggle to stay clean already after 2 or 3 days. There's something differnt about Thailand... My urge to drink does barely exist over here. It's not difficult to stay sober. Throw me back in Malta, and I'll be drawn to the bars like a fly to the light. I don't know what Malta does to me, but I turn into a complete crazy dancing alcoholic panda there. I wonder if I'll ever understand why. 

 

So, I was the last one to leave this beautiful, spiritual little island, and headed up to Bangkok where I would spend 1,5 days in wait for the flight back to my mediterranean home. Spent those days with my mother and cousin, wishing I'd stayed a bit longer... But the tickets were already booked. How foolish of me. This sudden family time was unexpected. If I'd known, I'd stayed another week. It's not like I've got a deadline to get back this time...

 

Oh yeah. I have to figure out what I want to do when I get back since Gochi closed. I've got a few options. Let's spend those 15 flight hours with that.

 

My dear friend snapped these when we played in the waters of a hidden beach on the west side of Koh Pha-gnan. One could never have guessed that there was a tiny trail into the jungle behind some bushes next to the road, leading out to this little paradise... off with your clothes!