I want to see just a little bit of everything.

Streetwear shopping on the edge of Chinatown

A hidden costume giveaway at a back alley theatre

I think I was asleep for too long. I spent too many years in a rhythm and a routine of comfort and similarity, and I played myself into the grooves of my own life. It felt as peaceful, as it felt nourishing, as it eventually felt anaesthetising.

At the time I was planning a wedding, and a life, with someone I loved dearly. And in our hurry to avoid facing the scarier parts of living, facing ourselves, facing our fears, facing trauma, facing the future, we relied on each other to create a deceptive numbness.

In the years since those days, I have lost so much of myself, and rediscovered so much more. My patterns are broken now. My life feels almost untethered and unhinged, in ways that can be frightening, and in ways that can be exciting. When I ask myself the question, “what if?” the answer is unpredictable.

I have remembered what it’s like to want to see things. Touch things. Taste things. Get born, get inspired, get out and get hurt. I think for the first time in a long time, there’s a regained sense of curiosity, breaking through the spiderweb like cracks in my apathy and my armour.

I haven’t slept in a few days. I want to, but the anxiety has kept me awake. I think I have an overabundance of energy too, unable to exercise or skateboard with cracked ribs and internal bruising. I’ll try again tonight, and I’ll keep trying to look after myself and stay on top of my health. I know I deserve that.

I ask myself sometimes if I’m happy. If the newfound curiosity and the interest has been worth some dark times. It’s a hard question to answer. One that may be more apparent in hindsight than it is in the present moment. I’m not as unhappy as I have been. I’m not as scared as I could be. I’m not as lost as the last 30 years of my life, but happy?

I have taken to roaming the city in my spare hours. There are back alleys where another world seems to happen, hidden holes in the walls, record crates that are as full of dust as they are forgotten 12 inches and club singles. This morning, wandering through Surry Hills, I found myself at a giveaway for old and unused theatre and drag costumes, soiled dolphin suits and top hats, feather boas and clear plastic and vinyl heels, like the remains of a Ru Paul afterparty.

I visited sneaker stores and scribbled notes. I snapped a few photos here and there.

My friend Kayla took photos of me for an upcoming electronic project, in front of piles of Sydney’s trash and rusted wire fences. I’ll post those photos soon. I drank a glass of prosecco, my first drink in several days, and while my makeup melted in the few spots of sunshine, I felt good.

xox Joany 🍕