Dim's Write Stuff

As I sit in disbelief, still reeling slightly at images of my old digs on an island in the Whitsundays that I used to call home, I reflect on what it means to loose something. The trees on Hamilton Island are completely denuded, reduced to leafless trunks standing damp and defenceless in a landscape that resembles a nuclear test sight. It is truly heartbreaking to see. Harbour View apartments Hamilton Island photo attribute Newcastle Herald I have some idea of what it must be like there. I have lived through one or two cyclones in my time, after all, even whilst on Hamilton but I can't pretend to know what those who've lost their homes, their boats, their livelihoods are feeling. Loss is a personal thing that affects each and every one of us in profoundly different ways.   On a far less violent and brutal front, now that the new-publication storm surrounding the launch of The Fix-It Man subsides, I take a further moment to reflect on this book of mine and Nicky...

Does time really have the restorative abilities to salve all hurts, tame desires, or alter one's beliefs? Can time really change a person? Or is it what transpires within the passing of time that causes change? That which we call, ageing? The answers to these philosophical musings will not be found here. I barely realise there's been a passing of years; too busy barrelling head on into tomorrow to register now properly, let alone thank yesterday for all that it provided. That was then, this is now, but there once was a time..... About two decades ago..... * I shared my zeal for life and empty ramblings, taste in music and love of the sun, with friends on the beach, by the bar, in the night club or in a letter. We roamed in loud, raucous, carefree groups. We laughed and cried...together.  Me & Murray, the Giant Trevaly Getting a big catch rather than being one. HI 1992  Now..... * We immerse ourselves in individual, insular enjoyment; tra...