Posted in blogging, Dogs, My wordpress, Story, Writing

Me and My Dog

ME AND MY DOG.

For as long as I can remember, you’ve been my best friend.

You’re the only one that I always like.

When I’m angry or sad, you appear from nowhere, plonking yourself next to me with a sigh. You talk to me, telling me where your secret hiding places are, and where you buried your bone last week. You tell me all about the awesome stinky frog you found on your walk with Dad, and you tell me all about the great new friend you’ve made-“Archie”, but how he’s sometimes a bit annoying because he keeps steeling your ball.

You make me feel better. You understand me, and what it is I need.

We’re buddies, you and me.

You let me wet your head with my tears, and you help me hide the crumbs when I pinch another biscuit, but don’t tell mum, because she doesn’t know-It’s our secret.

You know all my secrets, and you never tell.

You don’t mind if I leave my yoghurt container on the floor every single morning. I get in trouble by the way, but it’s ok I’ll do it for you because I know how much you like to lick it clean. I know, because I can read your mind.

I know that you are sad when you are left by yourself in an empty house. I know you love to sleep in mum and dad’s bed when you are cold, I know that you secretly hate dog food and would prefer lasagne every night, but you’re grateful you get something, so you don’t complain-but I can tell.

I know that at the end of the day, when all the humans in the world bug me, you are the only one that knows.

I am glad you are my dog.

Simple

img_4787

Posted in Daily muse, Photography, Writing

Why I Don’t Write Anymore

File 3-07-2016, 12 41 43

WHY I DON’T WRITE ANYMORE-The rise and fall of the flame

-Nicole Martin

It’s been a very long time since I’ve put pen to paper-or to be truthful, keys to iPad screen.

I used to love to tell a story. I still do, I guess…yet I’ve discovered over the years, that if the words are not there, they are not meant to be written. Forced writing is bloody aweful. Reading it, is not dissimilar to enduring a boring speech written by someone other than the speaker, and delivered by a less than willing participant who’s connection with the topic is zip. There’s no resonance, it’s unauthentic, and it’s dishonest.

If I believe my writing is not honest, if it’s not truly me, then it’s not storytelling and it’s not truth. It’s just worthless words that mean nothing, and a serious waste of the reader’s time.

So if I have nothing to say-It is what it is.

In the interim, I am delighted to adorn my canvas with the images of a Tropical Paradise-a peacefully silent method of storytelling. A potentially powerful means by which to connect the viewer to their heartstrings and memories in their own unique way. This relatively new journey of imagery has highlighted the need for me to refine the art, and challenge myself further in order to achieve the outcome I so passionately desire-connection.

For the real magic in life is all about connection is it not?

That raging passion, that unconscionable excitement, that unwavering drive to attack the previously believed unattainable, is all about connection.

Ultimately, if there is no connection, there is nothing but an empty space that lingers, and the impossibly human need to fill it with something more meaningful, subconsciously gnaws.

I have decided, that despite my wavering interests, I will go with whatever my heart tells me to do at that particular moment in time. Life is not a prison. We are free to change our minds, lose interest in what we previously enjoyed, adopt a new challenge, connect with new friends, and birth new goals, with no need for justification, but simply an acceptance and a fresh appreciation for the new.

On the flip side, I have been known to fumble around vaguely for decades, continuously searching for what drives me, continuously searching for a magic connection, or whatever the phrase is…only to discover I have unknowingly circumnavigated my universe and ended up right back where it all began-My unique connection to the outside world-and yours-has always been within me-yet in disguise. Disguised by the freedom of youth, disguised by not having suffered yet, disguised by family values and beliefs, disguised by societal expectation, disguised by limited understanding of self.

So where does that leave me today?

Well, who would’ve thought. I’m writing again…and as I continue to dream and tackle the world, in peace with my dog, all is good and all is exciting, and scary and new and old and uncertain and connected.

Here’s to a pushing the next boundary!

Burn

Save

Posted in blogging, Dogs, mindfullness, Stories, Writing

If only we could think like a dog

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Author

Nicole Martin

‘Us Humans Have It So Violently Wrong’

‘What skin product am I using I hear you ask?

I know, I know, you would all like to be as handsome as me. I’m sorry, some of us just have good genes, it’s just life.

People often comment-

“He must be what, 2-3?”

I’m actually almost 7, don’t fall off your chair.

I find, some good sea air, regular chasing of tennis balls around, and around, and around, the oval, some good social bonding with my buddies, cuddles with mum dad and my brothers, and lots of sleep, are the secret to my fabulous complexion.

Yes I know there’s a little grey there, but I think that actually adds to my appeal, don’t you agree? A little sophistication goes a long way. Other dogs all want to look like me because it shows how many years I’ve been having fun.

I said to them,

“Look guys, be patient. Your turn will come. It takes many years of living to look as good as me!”‘

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

MORAL OF THE STORY

Us humans have it so violently wrong.

Love yourself as you age.

It’s this beautiful transitioning into maturity, that should be embraced, respected, admired and celebrated.

Stop trying to make yourself appear younger.

We all make this mistake, don’t we?

Why?

Because we believe people will love us more if we’re more attractive. But that is so sad, because they WON’T! It’s one of  the biggest misconceptions of life.

People just want you. That’s all they want, and if they want something else, something fake, then YOU DON’T WANT THEM.

Detach yourself from EGO, and you will feel lighter than you ever imagined possible.

Think like your dog.

X

Posted in Dogs, Stories, Writing

I will walk with you forever

 

image

🐕

 

MY DOG

Author

Nicole Martin

The above illustration breaks my heart.

Why?

It’s me and my Jasper.

My dog.

It reminds me that one day he will leave me- as everything does eventually-and walk his own doggy road

-but I can’t think about that.

“Come here baby, you are JUST a dog”

He waddles up to me, tongue out, backside wagging, always smiling and grateful for nothing. 

It reminds me of his loyalty despite my laziness and grump days, when I know all he wants is to go around the block, and play with some buddies in the field. 

“Hello buddy, hello friend, my name is Jasper and I have a tennis ball”

It reminds me, that my husband loves him too, and so do my boys, and so do I, and so does the universe and everyone in it. 

Just look at the illustration. 

Four feet.

Two feet, two paws walking side by side. 

To where? 

It doesn’t really matter now does it? I know my dog just wants to walk…the destination is simply a means to an end. 

His name is Jasper, he’s 6 years old. He’s a black Labrador, and he’s a gift to me. 

Everyday, I learn from him. 

Everyday, he softens me. 

Everyday, he reminds me what’s important

and what’s not important.

With no words, he teaches me.

So many lessons, so many values, so many simple, simple truths, that humans wouldn’t know about, now would they?

His innocence is what I love about him the most. We often say

“Shame, he’s just a dog”

Ignorance is bliss is it not?

The not knowing. 

Living a reality where hatred and evil are an unknown entity.

Living a world where his happiness is directly proportional to the number of revolutions his tail does in a minute, and that’s the only measure. 

The past is simply a misspelled word missing an ‘a’ , and the future, the whole future, is captured in its entirety in the next five minutes. 

He owns nothing, yet parades around like he’s the King of Planet Boonga. 

Every tree and every lamp post is worth his attention.

It is irrelevant to him, if I’m ugly, or if I am unliked, or if I only have one friend, or if I have or have not brushed my teeth this morning, or if I am hopeless at my job, or if I am an Olympian who broke the world record last week. 

All he needs is to chase his tennis ball every now and then, to frolic with his buddies, and the LOVE of us. 

I think I would like to be born as a dog next time.

image
Jasper

 

 

Bittersweet

Posted in blogging, Funny, Humour, Writing

Dear Jasper

image

‘We need to discuss your A grade ability to sulk.’

 

Author

Nicole Martin

Dear Jasper,

I really think we need to have a heart to heart human-to-dog talk.

Come over here, put your hairy little behind down on the tiles, and bring with you your most finely tuned dog ears.
-and I am not for one minute fooled by that cute little innocent doggy face you are putting on, because I know you can understand me.

We need to discuss your A grade ability to sulk. You have developed quite the attitude of late and we need you to understand that whilst mum and dad always have your best interests at heart, there is no need to disown your father simply because he gave me a foot massage on the couch last night.

This business of storming outside, flopping yourself next to the pool fence and refusing to look at us, let alone talk to us, is taking it a bit far. Your helpless, far away stares into the darkness and your heavy, quite audible sighs, for hours on end had me worried you were sick. I almost called the vet, a ridiculously expensive exercise for a bad case of the sulks.

Mum and dad have to go to work. I understand having nobody to talk to all day, sitting on your bed and staring at the outdoor furniture isn’t the most enthralling way to spend your day, but we take you to the park to chase your favourite ball every single day, and on weekends you go to the beach, roll in everything that stinks to high heaven, nose dive into the sand until your ears, eyes and nose are so full of grains you can’t stop sneezing, and you run with the wind and frolic in the waves until your smile is so big I could swear your tongue would fall out.

You spend every moment you can sleeping on top of dad, you are allowed on the couch, AND our bed, you get to eat left over pasta, roast lamb and chicken, lie in air conditioned comfort, have regular baths and rub downs which we know you love, and you bounce on the trampoline with your brothers when it suits you.

So Jasper, our precious little puppy boy….let me ask you this.

What the heck is all the sulking about?

Love mum and dad

Dear mum,

You’ve got it all wrong. I am simply taking in the ambiance of the night sky. When I sit by the pool fence, I stare at the billions of stars, and find myself in awe of their beauty and wonder. Really.

Love Jasper

Dear Jasper,

It was cloudy last night.

Love mum

Dear mum,

Oh, bugger.

Love Jasper

I will walk with you forever

RED

My tree of yesterday

Use Humour over Anger

To my Boy