The Heroes Journey!

I placed a muffin in front of the lady by the window, not watching what I was doing. The outside captured my attention - Royal Oak was as vibrant as ever, soaked in warm sunlight that I couldn’t feel underneath the roof of Ristretto Cafe. For a brief moment, I wished I was out there, enjoying the sunshine and tasting the breeze. Not in here, working. I turned, and hurried back to the counter. There were coffees to be run, customers waiting to be served… I finished work at 3.30, and had seemingly forgotten about the gorgeousness of the day when I closed the cafe door behind me. That same aliveness I noticed earlier was still meandering the streets, only a little less pronounced. I breathed it into my chest - as much of the fresh air as I could - and started on my way home. Walking home was my favourite part of the day. To be outside, walking through the suburbs of Auckland in the lazy afternoon, was enough to keep my mind happy and calm. But I was still curious. Quite curious.....

9pm | Mt Eden Scout Hall: Utter chaos.  I heard the wailing guitars and the manic drumming long before I reached the hall. After easing my way through the mob of youngsters loitering outside, I eventually made it to the door and pulled out the 10 dollar note from my jacket pocket. The guy sitting there stashed it in a little safe, scrawled something on his paper and marked my hand with a sharpie. I was in.                (Photos credit to Theo Richards Photography)  Joe Says No were at the front with their instruments, unleashing their high-energy music upon the vivacious crowd of youths. It was loud. It was outrageously energetic. And there was no way to escape the tide of raving teens. I was pulled into the torrent without much consent, and thrown around like a ragdoll. Sweat splashed from the tips of hair; feet stamping, bodies crashing into each other. The rock’n’roll continued to pound at the people and the old wo...

It was the most confusing thing in the household. Big, too, seeming to take up half of the study. Old, oaf-like, it gathered dust and was left to its own council. But it was always there - it was a resident of this household before I was.  I had my back turned to it most of the time, pre-preoccupied by the computer screen and its many marvels. Sometimes, though, it seemed lonely, and so I would turn from the computer and try to figure it out. It only ever lead to more frustration and puzzlement. Why are you so hard to understand?! I would complain, striking it with stiff fingers.  I guess the piano didn’t play quite like the drums…  I didn’t really mind anyway. Me, playing the piano? It was a joke.. I had already found my instrument - I played the drums! And that was that. Maybe I could learn the piano in another lifetime. Those keys felt stubborn under my fingers.  Until one day, I was fossicking around in the deep archives of Youtube, and I stumbl...