Posted by walking rek on May 22, 2009 in dreaming rek, laughing rek, living rek

i spent last weekend at a yoga retreat. not one of your fancy massage-and-facial-after-breakfast type spa retreats. the real thing. Ashram.

this word, Ashram, has struck a chord deep within me ever since i attended a techno party of the same name at the then Les Girls in the late 90’s. boy oh boy, that party was a thumper. whilst back then i didnt really know what the word meant and only kinda gathered by the flyer and the party decor that it related to some kind of mystical place of worship, the word felt very good to say from a phonetic perspective (i was studying linguistics at the time). it seeemed to want to be whispered, those hushed sounds suggestive of precious secrets and sanctuary. nirvana. bliss.

i don’t necessarily think  i was a total stress ball before i decided to spend time at the Ashram . in fact, if anything, i have been cruising for some time in an effortless glide at work and at play. sure, some shit gets under my skin from time to time (try living with 3 males) but on the whole 08/09 has been a breeze. i have been steadily ramping up my own yoga practice for last 2 years and noticing some subtle but effective changes to the way  i  handle negativity. then a friend suggested i read Eat Pray Love. Bam. Talk about serendipity.

so, with minimal planning i whisked myself off on a little adventure. i delibratley didnt orchestrate every fine detail. i wanted to improvise as much as possible to remind myself that being out of control is actually a positive thing. a train trip, a bus ride into the wilderness, not really knowing what i was getting myself into or what to expect,  whether or not i should have brought more socks (mental note, yes) and a few hours later i found myself walking into the most beautiful place i have ever been. in every sense.

the experience was truly remarkable. i  enrolled in a program that focussed on yoga in the great outdoors which meant that along with daily practices of asana (yoga poses), prana (breathing), kirtan (chanting), mouna (silence), hatha/karma (cleansing) and nidra (meditating) i was able to dust up on my archery, spend time rambling in the bush, learn a bit of tai chi and just chill out for a few days. total mind, body and spirit rejuvenation. like a personality reset button. like oh-my-god-this-is-it-i-want-to-do-this-forever. powerful stuff this yoga.

i am still floating. i’ve been back for 4 days now and whilst i obviously had to slip back into the regular routines of my secular life, i feel very different. things around me have changed too. i’m beginning to get it.  i hear the whisper.


live n direkt

Posted by walking rek on Jan 27, 2009 in laughing rek

i am very excited about my next project. radio rek will be a reality in a few months! boo ya! naturally i will give it the launch party that it deserves when the time comes. send me your ideas for content/style or if you wanna contribute as a guest.

on another note i was under my bed the other day and found some tapes i made egons ago. one in particular had me guffawing for the full 90 mins. it was a tape i had done whilst at uni and is basically a record of me done on a dictaphone that i carried around for a couple of months. there is a lot of me talking about the music, the scene at the time, me rapping, me jammin on a geetar fx pedal and bongoes and distorting my vox. but the best bits are the snippets of conversations with friends. we were really close. if i can upload the sting of adrock and i talking about how best to record a car alarm then i most certainly will. the XXX scene would make great radio but i would prob need to run that past the significant other involved 😉

i’m quite impressed by the quality of the audio after all these years, what with all the dust and heat and cat hair that was in that bag of tapes. tdk still does amazing things to my system.


the cardinal sin

Posted by walking rek on Sep 24, 2008 in laughing rek, living rek

today i rode janis into the cbd for a meeting. this was the first time i’d taken her into the city centre during a week day and i was a bit concerned about parking. before i left the office i looked up various web sites dedicated to free parking for motorbikes etc so i had some idea of what to expect.

on approah to my premeditated parking patch, however, i spotted a sneaky lil dodgy park next to this other vespa. it was off the footpath, snuggled in next to a building, all safe and sound. hesitating only slightly i flick my lite, swerve to the left and nestle janis in between the wall and the other moped. it was a pretty tight fit (as i may have mentioned, janis is a bit of a porker).

kill the engine and go to do the ever ungraceful centre stand dance to get her in position when i notice my fatal exception… i’d parked on a bit of tiling that was super slippery so the metal stand couldnt get a grip. i tried and tried to get that mutha licker to stick but to no avail. all that huffn n puffn just kept pushing janis closer to the wall. with me stuck in between.

and then, of course, i lost my grip on her. down she went. over to the right. she went down quite slowly, like the titanic. but then again maybe it was cos i watching in slo mo horror as she hit the deck…taking the other scoot down   in her wake. smash.


lucky for me a courier came rushing to my aid (he heard my death cry over the engine of his 5 tonne truck). together we quickly got both bikes up and i decided that i should make haste for my planned park down the street. it was at this point that some smart ass came up and informed me that where i’d parked was actually a fire escape (with no signage). i needed no further encouragement. janis and i high tailed it outta there quick smart. it was a crushing moment.

i have learnt the following lessons from this ghastly experience:

– never park on tile. ever.

– motorbikes are very easy to drop.

– vespas are resilient. they hardly dent or scratch and are suprisingly easy to pick-up. must be the full metal jacket.

– someone will probably knock janis over at some point and unless i’m there when it happens, i would never know.

– a blood curdling display of vocal range will get you help very quickly (i discovered this after the push bike incident but its handy to remember for other such ugly situations)

– stick to the parking bays in the city, they are way better then sneaky dodgy cheeky fire escapes that have no signage.

– a good belly laugh after is essential to keeping this shit in perspective. served with beer. 6 pack min.


viva la vespa

Posted by walking rek on Sep 4, 2008 in laughing rek, living rek

ring-a-ding-ding, gots me some new wheels.

aye, she’s a beauty, i’m quite smitten truth be told. she’s pearl white with snake skin trim on the oh-so plush seat. she’s got a massive matching top box and a big fuck off head lamp. the best bit is her size. she’s a lane hoggin monster with 200cc 4 stroke engine which gives me plenty of head room. and she’s FAT. its like sitting on an overfed shetland pony. my flat mates caught me out the back fussing over her tethers and nuzzling in her ear (when she has her cover on, she looks just like a horse). like i said, smitten.

anyhow, i rode her home the other day and tried to organise a small welcoming party. the idea was that everyone would be assembled in the back yard and i would reveal her by fanging around the corner, barging through the gates and come screeching sideways to a well timed halt. of course noone arrived when they were supposed to (dusk, to catch the gleam of the setting sun wink off her flank) so i ended up munching down on the cheese platter and a few beers and by the time everyone rocked up i was pretty well cut. it had also started to drizzle. regardless, we partied on and everyone had their photo opportunity sitting on her well endowed lap. even the palm leaf got busted out for a few of the more burlesque shots – we’d rigged up a makeshift tent thingy with a tarp, broom stick and some string, it looked like we were camping in Cairns.

rode her to work and was grinnin like it was Tweekin circa ’96. so. much. fun.

i’m in luuuurrrve!

p.s her name is either Pearl, Mercedes or Janis… what you think?



fundamentally incompatible

Posted by walking rek on Aug 3, 2008 in laughing rek, living rek

When a guy sweats out his comedown in your bed while you are at work and doesnt strip the sheets.

When a guy sends you a text saying that you have to change the sheets when you get home.

When you get home and find that a guy has left your room in a state of disarray with his clothes strewn all around and the bed smelling like a toxic gymnasium.






Posted by walking rek on Aug 3, 2008 in laughing rek, living rek

World Youth Day has been and gone, thank fuck. For one endless week Sydney was awash with hordes of flag bearing pilgrims all wearing the same silly backpack and large ID tag around their neck. They tended to move in large packs and bellow football chants which got old quickly. Pilgrims were privvy to free public transport and food whilst the rest of Sydney couldnt get to work or go about their business in peace. We endured this inconveneience by sharing tales of how thousands of cashed up Catholics were shacked up in school halls and freezing on ovals (some even got frost bite!), sleeping on bits of cardboard and getting as much nookie as possible.

Dazzlebatz and I tried to have a beer and pub meal at the Edinburugh Castle during the plague but we were descended upon by 100 backpacks who swarmed in and plonked them selves down at our booth without asking. After giving them a loud serve of truth and justice we moved to another table. They sent over the flag bearer who offered to buy us a drink by way of apology. Whatever. I thought they were supposed to be pilgrims with no money to buy bus tickets and here they were hitting the turps like it was New Years Eve. They even had the audacity to ask the wait staff if they could get a discount on their $8 meals!


memo to self 08

Posted by walking rek on Apr 12, 2008 in eating rek, laughing rek, living rek

Yikes, I have a lot of ground to cover here since the fateful punk gig. I think I will just make a start on this entry and chip away at it when so inclined.

-February was large. Had my usual birthday month celebrations, this time shared with cuz Simon from Berlin. He was in town for 4 weeks on his inaugural antipodean adventure. We hammered it pretty hard for the first 16 days straight, but it had been a long time between drinks for us and we had some major catching up to do.

It all started on the first nite we met up. I decided that, in the spirit of my early twenties and crazy penchant for Montezumas in Crows Nest, I wanted to eat burritoes and drink beer for my birthday dinner again. This time we convened at Baja Cantina in Glebe for tacos and tequila. This joint had mixed reviews but was accomadating for our rowdy Tuesday nite rabble. High light of the evening was not the sangria but a personal appearance from Leo Sayer! Ever the hawk eye I spied his mop as he entered the room and gave him a hearty welcome and wave. My enthusiasm must have confused the wee lil guy as he bounded over to give me a hug and then realised on approach that he had never met me before. Leo backed away rather quickly, leaving me all deflated after my near brush with disco heritage (I had “You make me feel like dancing” as my recorded message for years). I had seen Leo in the flesh once before, at work, when he was doing sound check and I noticed with glee that his roadies had scrawled Leo Slayer over his roadcases. Anyhow, later at dinner when I had forgotten all about my earlier humiliation, Leo comes back over again and sings me Happy Birthday. I went very red.


A couple of days later Simon and I went to Alice to hang out with my brother Ben. Ben’s birthday is 5 days after mine, so we were there to celebrate his 30th as well as explore the red centre. On arrival we shot off to Ellory’s Creek for a refreshing dip. It was deserted and very very peaceful. Ben was walking around through the long grass wearing thongs. I was a bit concerened about snakes. Ben tells me that snakes won’t bite. I’m not convinced. Back in town we head out for a boogie and go to this community gig that featured poetry reading (gag) belly dancers and salsa demonstrations. I wasnt too impressed by the lack of males in attendance, and threatened to head off to Bojangles. Cuz deployed his diplomatic tactic and convinced me to stay put at our little family reunion. Ended up having a grand old time together bopping around on the concrete slab under the stars with what turned out to be a legion of lesbians.

Ben took us out to the Desert Park early next morning. It was 35 degrees at 930am. We trekked about for a few hours, watched the Birds of Prey show and relaxed in the air con of the Noccy (nocturnal) House . Ben used to work at the park so we had his expertise to guide us even though he insisted we listen to the recordings on headset. It is an interesting place, but fuck it was hot with a nasty Crown Lager hangover. After lunch n a snooze we head off for a quad bike adventure. The guide Frosty was a real militant wanker. We just waited till he was off a fair ways and then carved up the dust. I loved it. Ben and Simon wanted bigger bikes, but as a beginner I had loads of fun keeping up with those two hot heads and going sideways through the scrub.


Simon and I joined an el cheapo 3 day tour of the red centre. We missed the bus by an hour. They had to come back and get us last. Stepping on to a bus loaded with 15 strangers after holding up the tour was smirk worthy. Some dude was making these weird noises which became very annoying very quickly. I thought he was practicing his beat boxing… Within a couple of minutes of getting on the bus cuz n I have hijacked the bus stereo and have ACDC blaring. Off to the Rock we go. We make friends with everyone, the beat box syndrome is actually Turrett’s, there are loads of Swiss, a few Brits and a few smart alex like us. Cuz is easily the eldest, followed by me and the 2 guides. We see Uluru up close and personal as we walk around it in record time, pop in to the Olgas (walks closed due to extreme 47 degree heat), walk/climb Kings Canyon at dawn (brilliant! highlight of tour), sleep under the stars in swags, eat crappy back packer food, drink a sixer each nite, get up at 4am every morning, drive for up to 6 hours at 80 km/hour each day in a mini-bus with pseudo air con, meet the singing Dingo, cook kangaroo tail (gross), make a massive bonfire, fantasize about weed, forget about snakes, swim in dodgy swimming pools, dehydrate and rehydrate over and over again. Had a great time. Would recommend it if you can hack the heat. It was hellish at times. But the landscape is utterly staggering. I am going back to do the 4WD option.

– playground, air, lcd etc

– easter

– mustache burlesque

– still knox adventures

– scottie’s bike day

– sticky date pudding

LOL I got real far tonite



Posted by walking rek on Dec 25, 2007 in dancing rek, laughing rek, living rek, my ears are expensive

The long awaited daft Punk gig was nothing short of EPIC. I’ll try to break it down for ya’:

1. We drove out to Homebush (great idea!). Traffic wasnt too foul so we got there about 1315. Parked car, short stroll to the ONLY entrance where we proceeded to do fuck all for the next 2.5 hours apart from stand still in a huge crowd under awful conditions. Some nitwit had sent a bulk email to everyone who bought their tix online. Email went along the lines of “if you dont get there early you will be watching the Punk from the stadium, so get there early punk”. I guess myself and every other sod who rocked up before 1700 were pretty keen on that dancefloor action (mind you, Daft Punk were on at 2145). There was at least 10,000 of us (prob more like 14K but some reports say as many as 24K) stuck in this ugly crowd scence: no water, no shade, no public announcements, no queue barriers, no St John’s, no end in sight. We did have in abundance: humidity approaching 90%, girls fainting, people pushing, people booing, people farting, bottle throwing and dangerous levels of frustration. It took every gram of self control for me not to ark up and barge thru the crowd to hurl abuse at whoever was responsible for the gross misconduct and most outrageous breach of OH+S in party history that we were subjected to. The organisers should def post a public apology and explainantion for what happened. Only ONE fucking entry point??? Big Day Out is a juggernaut in comparison with this Never Ever Again one-off and I’ve never had to endure such disgusting conditions. People could have died! There could have been a stampede. Fuck knows I wanted to! (Might have something to do with the 3 Red Bulls I sculled in the hour prior to the line-up but my yogic breathing technique placated the guarana rage to a manageable degree, but only just). I got separated from Fee in the various crowd surges that occurred. This was also annoying. But as we no doubt would have made the joint decision to fuck the gig, sell our tix for $500 each and drive home to smoke on my balcony had we stayed together in that mob, it probably worked out for the best that we got separated. Small joy!

2. Once inside, it took a while to chill the fuck out after that degrading ordeal. A ciggie and some water with a sit down sorted that out after a bit. Then we decide to get some food. Another fortifying gesture…in theory. Every other punk in Sydney had the same idea. Same FUCKN QUEUES! AGH!!! Ok, no biggie. We already survived the mutha of all crowds so this should be a piece of cake. But then the rain came down. Just like that line from that Infusion/Outfission (sorry lads!) track, it dropped out of the heavy sky and added another dampener (cough cough) to the gig. In retrospect it was actually quite refreshing and our auric bodies no doubt needed the cleanse after that psychic rape earlier. But at the time it just seemed like the day couldnt get any worse, especially since the rain did not look like clearing. Added to this was another example of the slowest moving queue in human history; we were lined up for 45 mins for a burger and chips. Funnily enough, as luck would have it, just as I get to the counter and order my food, I open my wallet to retrieve some cash and the fuckin WIND picks up, swirls around us with mischievious gusto, rifles thru my wallet and snatches $50 from me! It is promptly swept UNDER the fuckn food wagon where I have been standing for almost an hour and despite my efforts to kneel down in the mud and wriggle under the cart, it just always seems to be that little bit too far away from my reach. GRRRR! I spin to to Fee and loudly exclaim “Fuck this, after we eat we GO!” LOL, I do tend to get emotional about these things! We take a seat under cover, devour probably the best fuckn chicken burger I’ve ever had, and reassess. Apart from $50 and a few kilos lost from dehydration, we are in good shape. Fee needs bandaids, and we both need water, so the plan is hatched and we decide to stay…at least for a lil while longer…

3. Soon enough the phone starts making noise and its the cavalry, here much later then expected and in much happier spirits then us early birds. Looking and feeling very chipper they sweep us along in a tide of good vibes to go sit up the very top of the stadium to avoid the rain. Blazed up and for the first time today I was actually laxin. Feelin good after a temporary bout of vertigo, we head en masse to to the dancefloor. Ha! Should mention here that the “limited” dancefloor tickets were referring to the grope pit up the front of the main stage. So, it really would not have been a big deal had we turned up later as I had NO intention of getting in that pit anyhow! That email def presented a different story to what unfolded. I will post it here if I can be bothered at a later date. We grab a few beers on the way down and I’m in front of Fee. Next thing I hear is bang and bounce and I turn around and there she is, mid-text, on her ass on the metal steps with a beer in the other hand! OUCH! Fee insisted that her injuries were purely ego based, so we kept on. That would have been another Get The Fuck Outta Here moment, but we forged on, tuff ladies of the floor that we are 😉

After that , the party got considerably better. The sun came out toward the end of Muscles set, the defining moment of his career so far, the crowd went wild. The sun stayed out till almost 2100 (being the longest day of the year, a solstice in fact) when the moon dropped in, almost full, and hovered above us till the end.

I could have a whinge about the DJs, the sound and the vision. But I won’t. Presets and Cut Copy were lots of fun and very familiar. The toilet situation got better as the nite wore on, as did the bar wait. So no complaints there.

Daft Punk were mad. Their lites and production were something else. It felt like they really were robots talking to us! Some said that they played a close version of the Alive CD, and maybe that is true. They still captured my imagination, hips and head as I bopped about like a lil kidder.

And yes, they did end with One More Time. It was perfect!

see below for excerpt from the group email:


The gates fling open for NEVEREVERLAND in Sydney at 2pm.

The first 24,000 people through the door will be given a wristband that allows access onto the field in front of the stage and the stands. After that, punters will be directed into the stands. If you do not have a wristband you will not be admitted to the field at any time.




Posted by walking rek on Dec 22, 2007 in dancing rek, laughing rek, living rek, my ears are expensive

Hot dog. The summer season is upon us here in down town Sydney. I am happy, hungover n broke and it aint even NYE yet. Excellent form. Did the twist with my body n mind with Rocket Science tonite in preparation for Daft Punk tomorrow. I like to be limber for these events. In true w.rek style, I meant to blog about the last time I saw the The Science back in June. But, as fate may have it, I’ve only just checked my drafts now. And as much as I want to describe the sensory overload that accompanies each of their sets, words again escape me. For another day.


home coming

Posted by walking rek on Nov 17, 2007 in laughing rek, living rek

Moved in to the new home. Was the normal pain in the ass to pack up and ship out but well worth it as I sit here over looking the tree lined street from my fabulous new bedroom. I havent moved house in the last 6 years but prior to that I was a regular gypsy so it was nothing too stressful, just heavy. I dont remember accumulating all that extra furniture, kitchen ware, clothing, candles and plants though, and to be honest I could probably chuck a lot of it out. But I might leave that for another day, I am exhausted.

My delightful ex-neighbours sent me off with a barrage of insults hurled from the safety of their second storey flat. I was expecting some kind of childish behaviour from them so it didnt really come as a suprise, they are, after all, just a sad angry couple who are jealous of others less sad and angry then they. I smiled sincerely (I am thrilled to be leaving them behind!), blew a kiss, took a bow and continued packing my car.

I’m guessing they dont yet know about the new born baby who has arrived to live directly next door 😉

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