30 x 30
About this blog
30 x 30 is a celebration. A milestone. Like any other, its one that brings with it a certain grin of satisfaction after its been achieved. When you really break it down, this is a neatly packaged marketing term for the only simple collection my wife and I have. From my naive frame of reference, some collect coins, or nice bags and shoes, money, maybe even cats. Whatever it is that's collected, no one is better than any other. It a subjective science after all - it all depends on what gets you up in the morning.
Our collection is intangible. You could call it pure hedonism. Spending relative vast sums to tip back the marrow of life and suck it down all in one gulp. When its done, all that remains is a collective fog of memory of hundreds of days being somewhere where we haven't been before or maybe just for a brief moment somewhere we think we might have. Sure, we could print off a few pics, share a few Flips, gather all around to proselytize on the people we've met or how wide our eyes have become. But really when its over, its gone. All that remains is an ember of memory. One that burns only for the few who were there to share in the spark and one that unfortunately could never be truly re-sold after we're gone. We have no white picket fence, we can't take it out back to play it; there is no underlying asset. Our memory has no empirical value.
For us though its just felt so good. Over the past ten years we've experienced stuff that has rocked us and we want more. An analeptic reaction stimulating a change in the way we look at our world and our place within it and one that as we have come to realise has a long way to develop further. Its the embodiment of using the gifts that we've inherited, somehow being born into families, societies, a place and time that allows us to cross borders in relative luxury and safety. Few in generations past and current could claim to piss away earned wealth so frivolously. All this being said, while we can't trade it in its certainly something we want to celebrate.
What follows is as much of an itemised account of that celebration as that fog will reveal. Raising our glass to a decade of being mostly away from the place we love and still call home. Like tribes of old passing down the stories that would one day make a cow jump over the moon and a dish run away with a spoon; these stories won't really do justice to how we lived it. They're imperfect accounts, but none of that really matters. Its intent for us is that of a catalyst, pulling the trigger on the sights and smells that made it all real.
From the time when I am writing, its fair to say that it really began when we were 20 years old. The writing will probably order itself according to my own motivation and I want it to grow faster than I can document. When its done, I hope you are able to enjoy it enough to make you think you should try it too.
Skål!
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