I’ll Walk Alone.

Happy creature
Hold me tight.
Share your wisdom
Be my light.

Never fear
You’ll be alright.
The wind is in you
Just take flight

Happy creature
You can’t let go.
My shadow scares me
I can’t go on.

Play my child,
Sing my beauty,
Succeed on this earth
And remember your duty

Happy creature
You’ll never be lost
Your glorious power
It’s you, it’s me, i it’s us.

Stars shine,
hearts beat.
A fire within me
That can defeat.

The only difference between a Winner & a Loser is that the Winner tries just one more time…

They say I could dance before I could walk, that it was in my blood.

My body would find the beat before I even heard the music

I am not to sure where it derived from. My mother was certainly not one of those crazy, pushy dance mothers, living vicariously through her daughter’s talent.  My sisters tried only to realise that they had been gifted with two left feet!  My father’s a clown, and whilst he is very entertaining, dancing is certainly not his strongest suit! 

I was a much loved black sheep.

Being different didn’t bother.  Dance was my language, my freedom, my passion.

I was not the most technically gifted dancer, but I had character.  I commanded the stage, captivated my audience and invited them into my journey.

A star was born within me and I was so excited to let it shine.

My passion for dance evolved like all things into a creative combination of many things; dancing, singing, acting, clowning, stage, film, theater, cultural arts, Balinese dance, Mask work,  physical theater, comedy, Shakespeare, you name it, I tried to master it and I loved it.

I was successful in so many ways.  Worked and trained in Singapore, Bali, New York, London and Melbourne.  But as my skill set expanded, my pathway grew hazy and my soul seemed to fade.

Maybe it was because I was forced to be on every fab diet since I was ten.  Or achieving 10 kg weight loss only then be told I looked too skinny.   Or perhaps losing friends because they didn’t appreciate my success.  Being told I was ugly and that with a face like mine I would always be over looked, might have also played a part!

I became fantastic at building a facade.

“The fighter, throw it at me and I will conquer it.”

Which led to the label:

” Bitch; cold, hard and stuck up”

Why I kept going?

Not matter how bad reality got,  when my creativity was unleashed in anyway, everything went away.

However, after 25 years of being “Sara the Creative.”  I was tired, hurt, confused, secluded, angry, resentful, defensive, a self-conscious wreck, me against the world.  My mind had given up. My body was confused. The facade was broken and the little girl inside spoke dreams of a life without the “Creative”

Almost two years on and I am proud to say “What an Idiot I was!” The chapter of “Sara the Creative, trying to be Sara not the Creative ” was just bullshit.

Don’t get me wrong the two years gave me time to explore so many other wonderful avenues, create so many true life long bonds and has played such an important part in bringing me to where I am today.

However denying such a big part of who I am killed a fire within me too.

Finding Fab-You-Lous marked the beginning of a new transition.  One of acceptance, appreciation and fulfillment.  In today’s society,  which I believe is far too image obsessed, it can be very hard for our generation to feel satisfied with themselves. However, I believe if you accept what it is and be proud of how you fit into it you can succeed no matter what.

Yesterday was the first day in two years since I stepped into a rehearsal room, new script in hand and ready to play once again.

Today I have no regrets, just excitement for what is to come when I try just one more time.

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I would like to thank David Bullmore, the director I am currently working with, who inspired me with the tittle of this post.

For the love of spring.

Nothing beats the smell of spring, there is a certain freshness to it that you got to love. The air seems clean and the sun is just that perfect combination of hot but not so hot that I can fry a slice of bacon on myself.

As September ticks over to October a refreshed, happier and warmer Melbournian emerges onto the streets. Travelers, no longer robots racing against time, stop every now and then to take in the glorious surroundings. With the knowledge that summer is blossoming, this place we call home feels cosy once again.

It’s also that wonderful time of the year where we realise we spent way too much time in winter, indoors sipping red wine with the ladies! Those extra servings of warm apple pie have now become extra inches on our hips and even though we didn’t spend the whole of winter curled up under the covers, drinking hot chocolate and skipping boot camp, we know there is still work to be done to get back to that summer lovin’ beach body we had.

With this in mind and the lovely spring air it’s time to brush the dust of my helmet and join my boy for a cycling adventure around the west: Adventures with Sara & Jelly.

Our adventure itineraries are almost always centered around food; a local favourite, a new talk of the town, a hidden gem or anything within a 1 km radius!

Our motto: work hard, train hard and eat hard, its makes us the perfect pair.

Today’s destination: Yarraville Farmers Market.

The journey there is a breeze. We are at one with the cars, pushing up & speeding down the hills, conquering each obstacle I get thrown. Keeping up with my cycling machine, I can feel the efforts of the last two weeks of my “shake away the winter blues” training program starting to work.

A well rewarded rest and replenish and with a few extra calories to burn now we set off once again.

Adventures of Sara & JellyHis & Hers

Our route ahead: the banks of the Maribyrnong River

It only takes minutes for the regret to sink in.

My legs are trembling beneath me.

Perhaps I should have taken a slightly less cocky approach to the ride there.

On the other hand…

Jelly is in full steam; he reaches the river and his home, zipping around the banks like Cadel Evans on his last leg of his Tour De France Triumph. Before i can shout out to him to go on ahead, our paths have already been lost.

Determined to catch a glimpse of him, I power on ahead, but my tired, angry legs are too slow.

Images of the monstrous climb up ahead haunt me and just as I am about to admit defeat, I see Jelly shoot out of the corner…He’s come back to rescue me, hopefully with a portable stretcher strapped to his back.

Unfortunately all he has to offer is some dear words of encouragement, which I humbly accept and precede onwards to my inevitable fate.

Determination and inner strength push me through the next twenty minutes. Mind over matter, one pedal stroke at a time and as home draws near, my breath gets calm.

With the sight of success my body surrenders…

On this beautiful spring afternoon, I am the winner.

A Demon in My Closet

I sat at my computer this evening and ponder for quite some time about how I was going to write this post. Wanting to give it a sense of creative excellence, I thought about ways in which I could make it profound, charismatic. I changed words and sentences to make things appear more intellectual and thought provoking. I felt inspired and tonight I was going to create the best post ever!

Of course I was trying way to hard and things shattered to pieces all to quickly

The truth is there is no other way to write it than spelling it out clear and simple.

I AM HAUNTED BY THE SCARY IDEA THAT I AM “THE QUITTER.”

“The Quitter” has been playing in mind since I read a post on Kristen Lamb’s blog last night,

“Want to reach new heights as a writer? Learn to Quit.”

The idea that “winners quit all the time,” seemed strange and absurd to me.

But as I finished reading, a sense of awakening had opened within me, I felt lighter and all of a sudden ‘The Quitter” did not seem so negative after all.

If this was the case, then why had I built “The Quitter” up to be some big dark scary demon that lingers over me like a bad smell?

I spent a good portion of my evening with thoughts running through my mind, trying to seem interested in the conversations around me, but really trying to solve the missing pieces of the puzzle. I was in total distress as to why at times in my life when I had decided to quit, because things where just not right, had it made me fall deeper into the dark whole.

The conclusion I have come to is this…

I need to learn to quit the right way. “Detect the difference between quitting a tactic and quitting a dream.” I have to make a choice, know it’s the right choice believe in it and stand by it.

First step, letting go of any predetermined judgements or ideas I have created around “The Quitter” like: I have a fear of failure, therefore I make the decision to quit all to soon, which is absolute madness.

Stop making judgements and live the fabulous life you want to.

“The Quitter” is my friend and together we will succeed.