The pictures published this morning are part of my photographic essay commissioned by The Sydney Morning Herald in 2004 celebrating the Condoblin Batchelors and Spinsters Ball held annually in the depths of New South Wales.
B & S Balls are thrown to introduce the youth of rural Australia who live many hours from each other in the arid outback.
The Ball is actually a huge drunken brawl and as a sober man I was amazed by two things: firstly how much alcohol was consumed and secondly how little violence there was.
I publish it to remind myself just how many things I have achieved.
The darkest part of the day is ironically the morning when I seem to forget just how damned capable I am. Need to calm down. Still experiencing waves of depression. Still at the mercy of my mad head. Mad head, thankfully not bed head-my hair is now cropped once again. However, when buzzed my head get recognized more than when I have long hair.
The dog is waiting to go to Runyon, waiting patiently at my feet whilst I type this. I am nearly out of the doldrums. I can feel myself emerging. Why did I get sober? Why did I go into therapy? Peace of mind. Not piece of mind-one of my mothers favorite expressions. ‘I’ll give him a piece of my mind.’ she would say.
The mantra for this week is BE PRESENT.
I remember getting up each day and feeling like there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do.
Added to all the other problems I am utterly home sick. Desperate to get back to my Island Jewel. Held here by all sorts of stuff that needs dealing with. The house, the garden, the book, the app, the art sale, what the fuck?
All I need to do is book an Air France flight to Paris and vanish but I am trying to be a good man. Trying to be the sort of guy who can wrestle from his life some sort of sobriety and ultimately some honor.
Where in the world could I go if I wanted to start again? I still love Memphis. I loved it. Who would I be when I got there?
What demons would I bring along with me?
Instead of running away I need to remember what I am capable of and invest time and energy in my work. Recently Obama opined that ‘change is hard.’ and I was appalled by his admission because I rarely admit that it’s the goddamned fucking truth don’t ya think?.
9 replies on “Balls”
Impressive…..maybe you could go to Nashville….much better than Memphis.
I remember in early recovery trying to change everything at once: cigarettes, sex, alcohol, lying, etc. Heck I have heroin beat that stuff will be easy! Oh my, no. I soon found out about the concept of substitution and found a new friend in GHB, and I almost died five times. Change again.
But change is damn hard; it can bring me to tears. But remembering to stay in the moment, to be present, gives me the focus of daily recovery.
Don’t know why I wrote all that; your blog today struck a similar chord. Being 11,000 miles from home, and desperately wanting to be there. But there are tasks to complete today; focus on today’s labor and home soon awaits.
Change sure is hard but rewarding… and very interesting discovering yourself time and time again…??? Tough but necessary… and damm good fun at times…
PS… that is so Aussie country… pmsl…”)
I think as you continue to re-connect yourself, and allow the circuit between your best self and the better spirits of the world to remain open, you will find yourself at home everywhere. Your good work helps me want to keep doing good work too.
Duncan, I deleted my Twitter account. I was just becoming too obsessed with what was going on 24/7. Point is, I have to check your blog on my own now that I don’t have you to remind me that you have posted. I spent this morning catching up on the blogs of the past week and I must admit, I became very scared for you. Too many Hollywood people are dying! The fact that Corey Haim died this week is just another example. Whether he meant to die or not, it seems to me to be some form of suicide. Don’t take that route Duncan. I agree that relocating sometimes changes one’s perspective but seeing as I lived near Memphis, I can tell you that it is the wrong place to relocate to. Nice to visit but the crime and the intense heat and humidity are utterly depressing. If I could choose I would live anywhere but here. If I read inthe paper one day soon you have taken your own life, I will feel somewhat responsible as a follower of yours and an avid reader of your blog. We all comment to make you feel that you are as talented and important as you are so don’t let us down and take the easy way out. Struggle and fight the good fight so those of us who admire you have someone to admire. God Bless and remember no matter how bad it gets, it can ALWAYS get worse.
i want some banana walnut loaf!
And running away never solves shit. Tried it.You have your own place that grows bananas!Id run to that. :)..im thinkin your damn lucky , but then again I have the Rocky Mountains everyday, but we sure as hell dont have our own homegrown bananas.
I should have never looked at that picture.
Speaking of demons that go where you go, your Full Disclosure blog let one of mine out for several days.Didn’t realize I was still so bitter! I was so pissed off that I could hardly sleep for two nights. Over it now, but thinking about how to shed some light on it.
I think there is a huge quantity of honour in the hard work you are putting toward achieving the life you want.
Spring here means mud puddles, heavy on the mud. A huge relief that winter is over, and anticipation of green leaves, blossoms and the wrens returning to my yard.
Greetings & Salutations. 😉 I hope that made you smile. I saw your tweets about the earthquake and looked to see what you’ve posted but you haven’t written since Sunday. I hope that that just means that you’ve been too busy creatively or with other mundane things like accumulated laundry or cleaning & such, that you haven’t had a spare moment to parse sentences. I hope that the house in Hollywood & the ranch in Malibu are okay with all the critters, but most of all, I hope that you are okay. Keep up the good fight.
Blessings,
Amanda