Just do it

I wonder who at Nike came up with that slogan and how they were rewarded.  It would seem a crime if they weren't starfished by water in some exotic location ad infinitum after a brain wave like that.

Creativity is a very interesting thing.  It sets people apart and inspires others to action.

I know many creative people across many spheres of creativity.  Some of them are rewarded for their creativity and some are not.  It's imponderable.  Though if I was to ponder I would say that the value is arbitrary and tends to be based on mass thought rather than merit.  To my mind, this borders on tragedy.

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Another Brazil story....

These blue sweetums go with the oddly similar pair of black sweetums that I spoke about earlier in this shoe odyssey.  I adore each of them.  I couldn't decide between them - who could pick a favourite star in the sky?  So, I bought them both.  Piggy.

The first time I wore them was out in Lagoa, Florianopolis.  It was steamy hot and we thought it would be a brilliant idea to go to a samba club and get even warmer.  The samba clubs of Brazil are unanimously fabulous.  My view is probably compromised a little - I was in Brazil for such a short time I didn't have time to be anything but dazzled by it.

Even so, I can't imagine ever being bored by the place.  It's like eating, drinking and breathing fun all day long.  These shoes in the samba club in Lagoa were no exception.  They carried me all night long until I could be carried no more and we dragged ourselves home, happy and barefoot with shoes in hand.

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Pretty Parisian

An April or two ago I went to Paris for "that birthday".  There was no way I wanted to be in the Southern hemisphere when turning 30.

The decades are hard.  I remember being terribly forlorn the day I turned 10. When my Mother asked me why I was so sad on my birthday I replied "because yesterday was the last day I would ever be one figure old.  The next time anything this big happens I'll be turning 100!"

This time, instead of Mummy's cuddles for comfort on such a momentous occasion I turned to shoes in the streets of Paris.   These were my choice.

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The start of the silly

It's going to be 30 degrees in Sydney today.  A toasty warm Autumn day and as I'm nearing the end of my shoe odyssey my choices of shoe are getting smaller and smaller.  

So, today I've gone a little conservative and started with a vaguely wearable in warm weather bootie.  What I am concerned about are the 30 degree days where my only choice is a big thick long wooly boot!!  Amusing times ahead...

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A pointless rant.

Today's shoes have nothing to do with what I am about to rave on about.  They are pretty though don't you think?

I have come up against some funny attitudes recently and my reaction to them has reminded me that intolerance is my weakness.  I try to curb it but I do fail from time to time.

In my defence, I'm only intolerant of stupid people.  Hmmmm that probably means I'm intolerant in general.  But for heaven's sake, there really are a lot of stupid people out there!  Now that I say that I'm making myself laugh because it feels like I'm in the middle of an Edina Monsoon rant.

To me a stupid person is someone who lacks compassion, who cannot see beyond themselves and focuses on negative things to their own, and sometimes those around them's detriment.  To me the smartest person in the world is one who loves with honest grace.  This aspect is probably the part that makes me stupid too. My intolerance lacks the very grace I wish for.

Tomorrow is a new day.  Perhaps I will learn then.

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Rave girl loves the DJ

Every so often I notice that the years are ticking by.  This observation is especially acute when a really good trance or drum and bass DJ crosses my path.  I can't help myself but push my way to the front and go into a zone of dance so familiar and so dear to my soul that the truth of it's retro vibe is embarrassing.

I'm the girl who snuck out of my parents home to go to raves mid week then held my eyes open with determination at school the next day.   I'm also the girl who dated the DJ, has a power femme look and no matter how "proper" I become my stomach still does a flip flop when I hear the music I have loved so much for so long.

I moved city for University.  Sadly, the city I moved to, Christchurch, was more into beer drinking songs than worshipping at the altar of DJ all night long.  It was misery for my retro hippy soul.  But, to put a positive spin on an unfamiliar and uncomfortable situation I did find out exactly how much I loved the DJ.  Absence made my heart grow fonder.

The last outing for these shoes was at D-Edge, a brilliant club in Sao Paulo, Brazil.  Check it out:  www.d-edge.com.br/

We had only arrived in Brazil hours earlier and frankly I felt awful after the long journey from Australia.  But the second I heard that sound, the retro hippy chick in me forgot my tiredness, ditched my friends, ran to the front and danced the awful away.

It's funny because I've obviously found my Woodstock.  Trance is my flower power.  In years to come, I will be the wrinkled woman who embarrasses her kids by still running for the DJ every time she hears those tunes.

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Number 58

This is shoe number 58 - brilliant turquoise cloaked in satin.  20 to go.  I think.

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