“I had that restless feeling” by Rhonda Yanitsas

I’ve felt restless for a good two years now. It’s a feeling that’s hard to explain but it’s been there for that long – tugging at me and always in my mind.

So much has happened in my life over the past two years. I’ve married my lovely husband, had our beautiful baby boy, changed jobs just a few times and supported my mum through her terminal illness. These events have all changed my life forever.

Another major contributing factor to my feeling of restlessness is my home. When my husband and I got married we were living in a unit owned by his family, with my brother in law living above us and my in-laws around the corner. We knew we wanted to eventually move to start our new life together, but it wasn’t that simple. After what seemed an eternity we did move into another unit but that was only another temporary situation.

In my child’s first 18 months he has lived in three homes and I haven’t moved that much ever. We had our belongings scattered across Sydney and beyond. Some of our things were at our new temporary place, some were in our parents’ garages and even more of our belongings were in storage. I didn’t have everything with me and it felt strange. Everything was so temporary.

Another move later and we are finally in our own house which we have purchased. It’s definitely a family home, in a family focused community, and we’re taking a while to get used to it – and to unpack the final boxes!

It’s interesting how feelings about where you live have such an influence on your emotional state. Some people understand this but I have had others giggle at my restless revelations.

The constant flighty feelings I did have are slowly disappearing as we go about nesting and settling into our new home (and community). We’re making it ours… but oh so gradually! I hope we spend a long time here.

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{This oh-so-relatable piece by Rhonda Yanitsas on the theme “restless” is part of a new guest post series on my blog – back after a break last week – called The Storytellers. To see more from The Storytellers, follow this tag. Rhonda blogs at botanylife.com.au about her family’s new life in Botany, Sydney.}

Images from here, here and here, all licensed under Creative Commons.

} end if by Ruby Blessing

Ada was holding court at her usual table, at the usual time of two a.m. A stream of young acolytes streamed past, sometimes sitting to pay doe-eyed homage. Sometimes to sneer. All to ask questions.

She would have killed for a cigarette. But they had been banned for so many years now that even the black market didn’t bother anymore. Besides, this new generation were too busy with their programs to take the time and effort required to sustain a habit.

The café was unusually full, muted dubstep playing over the speakers, serious groups huddled over their glowing tablets and coffees.

Ada sighed. Some rebellion. Ever since the Red Hats took over, no one seemed to have fun anymore. And it was mostly her fault. Now she was left with the dubious title of Queen of the Revolution, with every coder in the city passing by her table to ask some inane scripting question just to say they had met her.

Still, it was better than staying in her apartment. Too many memories there. Plus she was sure it was bugged. Ironic really. The ultimate hacker having her own life hacked. At least the bedroom was secure. Soon she would have to choose a new skid to take home. She usually gave them a week. It took that long to get them to think for themselves.

Bogey sat down, pushing a tattooed boy aside. “One of yours?” he nodded his polished head towards an attractive young woman surrounded by other script kiddies like some minor celebrity.

“She was last week’s,” Ada sighed, “She had some surprising, um, tricks, I must say.” Quite an enjoyable week really, she thought, remembering Layla’s soft skin and skilful tongue.

“At least she used her imagination,” she added, out loud, “More than I can say for some of the boys. They seem to think that their manhood is enough.”

“I remember when my manhood was enough,” Bogey said, looking into her eyes, a nostalgic smile on his lips.

Ada looked at him and remembered when it was too. Boges had known her when she was still a mediocre hacker for a cheap internet security company. That was until she stumbled into Darknet. And started a rebellion.

“Have you come to watch, or is there something else you wanted?” Ada asked, knocking back the last dregs of her third glass of red wine.

“Well, I was wondering if you had heard from Tom?”

Ada had to stop herself from snapping at him. It wasn’t his fault that both their sons had disowned her. Tom had moved to the other side of the world to escape her, and her fame. Or infamy.

“No, I haven’t,” she said, gritting her teeth. No tears. Not here. “Why do you think I would have?”

Bogey paused, swirling the warm beer at the bottom of his glass. He was trying to avoid telling her something. He had never been very good at the serious, and she was starting to get concerned. Then he took her hand and she knew it had to be bad.

“He’s disappeared, Ada. Completely and utterly gone. And I think you might be the only one with the skill to find him.”

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{This piece of fiction by Ruby Blessing is part of a new guest post series on my blog called “The Storytellers.” I have given creative folk from all over the world a theme – in this round, it is “Restless” – and invited them to create anything they like. To see more from The Storytellers, follow this tag. I’ll update it with a new post each week.}

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Ruby Blessing has worked at the forefront of the digital space for the past 16 years. Apart from being a leading Digital Strategist (having co-founded the first-ever Internet company to launch on the Australian stock market), Ruby is also mother of four voracious readers and she struggled to find a new books series for her children (who had devoured all the usual suspects). Not one to let a challenge get in the way of a good idea, Ruby decided to write one herself.

Crispin Scales and the Golden Pearl is the first installment in her exhilarating fantasy series for eight to 12 year olds. With a twist that will drop your jaw to the floor, and charming supernatural characters, Crispin Scales is the children’s series we’ve all been craving.

Ruby is also working on several adult books. This post is an excerpt from } end if, a story about the hacker wars of the mid 21st century, and a revolution led by a woman.

Image credits: red hats, all licensed under creative commons, top to bottom by katsuuu 44 // Arnaud DG // Fabio Rava // Joseph Crawley

“Restless” by Paul Hulbert

There are no words to this post. Instead, the story of “Restless” is told in these two photographs. What do they say to you?

{Post by Paul Hulbert, in the theme “Restless” for The Storytellers}

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Paul Hulbert is a freelance photographer who regularly works for lifestyle, home and garden magazines, as well as local governments, corporate clients and not-for-profit clients. He also creates tailor-made garden books for private clients, and photographs portraits, weddings and special occasions on commission.

“Insomnia” by Katherine Mackenzie-Smith

The girl lies awake in the middle of the night, her mind abuzz with thoughts of the person she could be and all the things she could do. Sometimes she walks the halls of her parents’ house, trying to calm her mind, and sometimes she stares upwards, watching shadows of the outside world dancing on her bedroom ceiling in the midnight breeze.

She knows that she isn’t like everyone else; she isn’t satisfied with the usual day to day. She struggles to find fulfillment in her current state of being; she is anxious with longing and wistful with thoughts of how she can fashion herself an existence of supreme happiness. She knows that she can do anything and she will not be moulded into what is expected of her.

The clock in the kitchen tick, tick, ticks away, echoing in the silent house, reminding the girl that she is disturbing the peace of the early morning, her presence like an unwanted gift, changing the natural order of the space surrounding her.

She casts her gaze outwards to the dewy mist of the early morning and softly whispers, “help me find the way.”

At that moment, the boy opens his eyes. He is lying in bed a distance away, his thoughts racing with ideas and opportunities. For one minute, his thoughts take pause and turn to a girl he once knew and how she could be the missing piece to his puzzle.

The sun slowly peeks its head over the horizon as the boy and girl find a way to shut down their brains, switch off their thoughts, and rest their heads in their respective sleeping places. They think briefly of each other and how they hope to one day engage in a mutual encounter as they fall into a peaceful slumber.

{Post by Katherine Mackenzie-Smith, written to the theme “Restless” for The Storytellers}

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Katherine relocated from Brisbane to Sydney to work in television but discovered a love of writing and blogging along the way. She writes a lifestyle blog called Through My Looking Glass where she shares her love of photography, movies, life, music, and other inspiring beings… plus there is always a lot of talk about cake! Stop by some time and visit Through My Looking Glass, it would be great to see you!

Blog – http://throughmylookingglass.me
Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/throughmylookinglass
Twitter/Instagram – @miss_kms

{Image by Savannah Roberts, licensed under Creative Commons}

“A very blustery day…” by Gillian Harrison

I blow into the yoga studio off the wild wind of the threatening summer storm. I figure it as good a day as any to return. I lie legs crossed on the concrete floor. The heaviness of the day echoes in my lower back as I replay a bustle of activity.

It began with teaching the children a new word. Blustery. The early morning wind blasted hot and turbulent and the children responded by poking sticks at each other. The ferocity in their tiny voices matched the power of the southwesterly while coloured silk wraps whipped about the mandarin tree in the playground, violent and captivating. Like wild snakes spitting and fighting for freedom.

It is this image that replays in my mind while I try to focus on the present. The Sanskrit wall hangings, the image of an elephant mother tending to her baby, the weaving bamboo plants. The reaching wooden tree sculpture, twisted, tangled and confused in its direction.

Then the first instruction comes softly: “Stand still and calm your mind”.

My limbs twitch and pulse, like the restless legs of pregnancy. My focus drifts away from the soles of my feet, my breath struggles to stay steady. The Mountain Pose gets the better of me.

I look upon movement in my life with fondness. Nomadic. Wandering. Fluid. Transient. Shall I move our family to Southern Italy? Or paint the bedrooms red? Restlessness signals the delicious stirrings of change

But while I yearn for the resonant hum of the Tibetan singing bowl which I know will signify that the end is near, I sense importance in this focus, in this deliberation, in standing still and I wonder if intentional living became the casualty of my thirst for movement.

Finally the storm kicks in beyond the glass screen doors. It is as wild as the wind promised it would be.

Yet I stand still. And I manage to breathe.

{Post by Gillian Harrison, written to the theme “Restless” for The Storytellers}

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Gillian Harrison is a contributing editor to Rhythm & Method. Gillian has a double major in Creative Writing/Philosophy which eventually led to a ‘real writing gig’ as Editorial Coordinator of a hippy lifestyle magazine. A bout of wanderlust lured Gillian to a teaching job in South Korea where the writing dream quickly faded into the polluted haze of the Korean peninsula.

Today, Gillian finds herself living in the world’s most isolated city and the town of her birth, Perth, Australia. She spends her days teaching, parenting and breathing air into her writerly self. Every now and then she dreams of throwing it all in and studying archaeology.

(“Wind Costume” image: a late 19th century Japanese hand-tinted photographic studio portrait from the UK National Archives, licensed under Creative Commons)

I have been looking forward to telling you about this for SUCH a long time. New for 2013, I am thrilled to bring you a new occasional series on this blog, called “The Storytellers.”

What is it?

I have approached some of the best and most creative bloggers on the Internet and asked each of them to tell a story (or a fragment of a story) for you. I set the parameters of what constituted a ‘story’ as loosely as possible; I told them they might want to write a piece of fiction, some non-fiction, share a photograph or several, draw some pictures, make a film, write a song… in short, they were free to do anything they liked, as long as it could go on this blog.

Every few months, I’ll give The Storytellers a new theme, and they’ll create something or share something they’ve found elsewhere, for you. Their first theme is RESTLESS. Here is a teaser of what some of The Storytellers have created:

} end if, by Ruby Blessing
Ada sighed. Some rebellion. Ever since the Red Hats took over, no one seemed to have fun anymore. And it was mostly her fault. Now she was left with the dubious title of Queen of the Revolution, with every coder in the city passing by her table to ask some inane scripting question just to say they had met her.

That restless feeling, by Rhonda Yanitsas
We had our belongings scattered across Sydney and beyond… I didn’t have everything with me and it felt strange. Everything was so temporary.

Insomnia, by Katherine Mackenzie-Smith
The girl lies awake in the middle of the night, her mind abuzz with thoughts of the person she could be and all the things she could do. Sometimes she walks the halls of her parent’s house, trying to calm her mind, and sometimes she stares upwards, watching shadows of the outside world dancing on her bedroom ceiling in the midnight breeze.

A very blustery day, by Gill Harrison
I look upon movement in my life with fondness. Nomadic. Wandering. Fluid. Transient. Shall I move our family to Southern Italy? Or paint the bedrooms red? Restlessness signals the delicious stirrings of change.

Are you longing, like me, to find out what happens next? There is much more to come from these and many other Storytellers. Stay tuned this time next week for the very first installment in this new series.

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Photo of practically perfect finger puppets (what a fantastic storytelling aid they would make, huh?) from Knecht Ruprecht Waldorf Dolls

ps. If you don’t want to miss out on any of The Storytellers, you can subscribe to my blog to receive notification of them all, plus I’ll send you a copy of my book Airmail in the post for free, and make it look pretty, like these

ps2. If you’re in Melbourne, go here for your chance to win two tickets to see the amazing, beautiful, funny LEO live next week