Over the past two months I have disappeared from myself …. and the world … many, many times, and with intense pain! Yes, the old human standard! Totally lost and incapable of focus and energy, over a lost relationship.
But …!!! i try to find a little of myself, and, as i have over the years lived by my maxim that i only have this second, because it’s the only second I know and experience. For, eventually there will not be a next second …. for anyone.”

I disappeared because I broke my arm skateboarding, they gave me strawberry gas, it felt
sleepy and weird

My first thought was weeding along the creek line at Valley reserve where I was married. To me this is the place where I can disappear and immerse myself in the natural world. A real escape while doing something positive.

I want to disappear. What would it be like if I didn’t have a brain.

I was never quite sure whether you were talking about the moment the photograph was taken or past history. Strangely enough I did disappear for three weeks during that time. I lost my confidence in myself and therefore my belief in facts and memories and words I knew perfectly well. I allowed myself to become intimidated and patronised by Marie, who became, to me larger physically every day. You remember I am not a large person and as time progressed I became smaller and even more insignificant, quite unnoticeable. A dot on the landscape!

Once there was a small girl…
The small girl had seen more in her small world than her small world should have shown her.
So one day she closed her eyes in order to not see.
The small girl lived her life in blindness…and felt safer.
But one day all of those things she had shut her eyes on came creeping into her dreams…
The small girl could not shut her eyes on her dreams
for soon they would become nightmares.
So the small girl decided to build some wings and fly far away from those things.
She flew north and south, east and west but those things were still there, in the small girl.
She couldn’t escape them, so the small girl flew home…
And she decided instead of closing her eyes to protect her from those things,
and instead of lying awake at night to protect her from those things,
and instead of trying to fly away from those things to protect herself
she decided to open her eyes in order to see…
The small girl wanted so badly to disappear from those things,
but instead she took a deep deep breathe and fell into…memory….
For now the small girl lives from day to day
looking carefully at her small and large world……
Perhaps one day she may be able to open both eyes.…

Mid-air in a plane or on a long stretch of road – hours on either side – I have a sensation

that I am neither here nor there – dematerialised. I am no place – moving somewhere in

space, random, somehow free and unfettered. I get a feeling of being boundless, and

unattached.

I disappeared when i was in my mums tummy. I don’t know how it felt.

When l disappeared, reality was a bad dream.

When I was a child of two I was living in an orphanage with my sister who was responsible for me.
We were playing outside and I fell off some play equipment and hit my head. I remember it being
a sort of choice as to weather I chose to live or not. Now my whole life is weighed against that decision.

I fainted for a second when I was pouring milk and it went all over the floor. It was really

weird. I almost fell over. It was just like sleeping.

I’ve had an experience of disappearing when I was eighteen. I was working on this farm

spraying weeds. I was walking along and I started thinking “I wonder if I could just float

instead of walking.” and I kind of went into this zone and as I was about to float, well this

is what I believe, I realised that I could do it but then I kind of lost something and fell over.

That was one time.

i was running away from dad and i disappeared over the hill at Smeaton

I keep meeting the same people over and over and they don’t know who I am. I feel like I

am invisible to them and inconsequential. Usually when I meet people there is an element

of flirtation but at these times, when people don’t recognize me, that doesn’t happen and

it makes me feel I am loosing my identity as a woman. (I didn’t want to tell you that

because I felt it demeaned my femininity).

I’ve never been unconscious. I’ve never been knocked out. Was I unconscious when I

was born?

When I first disappeared there was a moment when I had to choose between

resisting, fighting against it, or surrendering and going with it. I chose

to surrender, and have been taking every opportunity since to disappear…

I have thought about it and I don’t think I have ever disappeared to myself. I am sure I feel

as if I have disappeared from others, though. Not the same, a different experience, but

perhaps similar? Or complementary? I disappear for others when I am very uncertain

about my role in a situation. I guess it is like being opaque – others see me and know I’m

there, but there are no details – my participation/contribution to what is happening around

me is little or nothing. There have been periods years long when this occurred.

At these times I have been in a state of panic in my mind. My hold on my world is

crumbling – has crumbled – but my position in it has not changed. I soldier-on and once,

in one of those times, I was told that I look very professional. Remarkably professional.

Part of me thought, Oh, good… I wanted to be professional. But I wasn’t pleased to hear

it. It was difficult because I was very unhappy, but I grinned and bore it.

Foolishly.

When these things have happened I have always gone into …i don’t know the word – I

just do the basics and withdraw from non-basics. It is characteristic of me that one of the

basics was my children and one of the non-basics was my paid work.

These periods of disappearance from others were clear when I left high school. I’m not

sure if I had any when I was still at high school but I know I had short crises even in

primary school, triggered by a sense of not having been heard, or acknowledged by my

parents. Or maybe it was triggered by conditions in my family being too hard for me;

perhaps not too hard for other people, but too hard for me.

I don’t think I can say much more about (not) disappearing from myself.

I disappeared out of my father’s life as a consequence of his actions.

Arlo (my baby) disappeared to a milk utopia.

One time i wanted to go blind so i stared at the sun from the time it rose to midday when i

fell in a hole in the ground.’ve disappeared so many times at this ghat over the last ten

years from a self, an image people had of me, I’ve done it so many times

There was a time when i disappeared. i think i disappeared for about 6 hours. i don’t

recall much about my disappearance. in short, a man wanted a large sum of money in

exchange for my reappearance. This was about 25 years ago. i’m glad to say that i am

visible now.

i think i was about 5 or 6 when it happened, i don’t have a full memory of the entire event,

– i can only seem to recall some bits. luckily the police were able to track me down, so no

money was ever handed over. i’m very much okay about it all. i think i was too young to

understand and to absorb the trauma, so perhaps thats way not much of the experience

has stayed with me. i dont know anything about the man who took me…it would be an

intersting work in itself to try to track him down and to meet him after all these years.

as far as i’m aware, no he didn;t know my folks…the police did apprehend him, so i

imagine he would have been locked away for abduction…though he would probably be

out by now…in a weird way i would feel terrible if he was still locked up, cos i’m totally

fine.

When I was young woman I was ashamed of my skin. i felt surrounded by beautiful young

woman and totally inadequate. i loved textiles and fashion so on reflection i began to

explore this love and dressed to excess! What i found was that i disappeared behind this

persona and gained confidence in my ability to throw an outfit together as it were. i just

loved searching through op shops and dressing in themes, colours and eras it became a

sort of art form for me. i owe much of this love of fashion to Edith Head who was a

costume designer in Hollywood…as a kid i watched so many old black and white movies

from her heyday. Only realised in latter life who she was and how i loved her style. i have

never really reappeared!.

I still love cloths, still love to dress, I still admire those that dress with style, I am still

inspired by beautiful and simple fabrics … their feel, their look and i still sew.

Disappearing act

The copper triangles move around her arms. Around her thighs, her calves, her toes, her

torso. They tangle strands of her hair through each equilateral edge along which they

pass.

They sparkle in the darkness.

These triangles clang a symphony in her ears; with no walls to bang into, their sound

expands til it dissolves into nothingness.

She floats in this space for a long time. Longer than she knows, forever it seems. Maybe

she was always here; maybe she was born here; maybe she’s already dead.

But she’s not – there’s a push and a hardness, something is said. And just as he draws

out of her, she draws back into consciousness.

I try to Disappear every day. It feels like my body, breath and mind rush away with the

wind and then there is peace.

I was very ill as a child with chronic lung problems and my parents were told that i would

not live.

One day i was so ill that i was on oxygen but they decided i would die at home.

I had a true out of body experience when suddenly i was looking down upon my father

weeping at the end of my bed and there was my small body in bed but i was not there. i

was up in a corner of the roof, looking directly down upon the top of my fathers head and

upon my collection of little white horses that my mother would buy me…i always hated

them. i had never read a book about out of body experiences and knew that if i wanted to

leave for good i could.

it was very ‘normal’ seeing myself absent from my body and i felt a great urge to let go.

What was ever out there was very seductive. i saw a tunnel and the light at the end was

‘pure love’.

I can go I thought but then another part of me said ‘you don’t have to-look how upset

your father is. He will be devastated if you die. I reluctantly made the decision to live and I

returned to the body and the struggle.

I got better against all the odds but i often think of when i wasn’t ‘there’.

Sometimes when I play music I disappear… I think that’s why I play.

Decided to move from New Zealand (having worn it out) to Australia. There’s a lot to do

when moving from one country to another. Had fun giving stuff away and distilling my

possessions down to what could fit into one backpack. A very good exercise. Most stuff

isn’t important really. Left a Fender Twin with David Butler, so he could sell it and send me

the money. He sold it and kept the money. The prick still owes me $600.

Told a few people that i was going, but there were more that i didn’t. i’d booked some

sort of cheap ticket thing which meant that the airline called you up when a seat became

available, and you had to be ready to go at short notice. So one day they called and a few

hours later i was at the airport. i didn’t let anyone know, including the humourless new

age femo-nazis i was sharing with at the time. People would have called up and got

“huh? don’t know where he is…” i’m sure everyone worked it out sooner or later. Sorry

Jackie.

Id never been to Australia before. Someone had said “you’d probably like Melbourne”. if

they’d said “Adelaide”, i would have ended up there. i had no idea. So i went to

Melbourne.

Got to Melbourne, and on the first night, booked into some backpackers’ hostel in the

middle of town. i was sharing a room with two guys from Holland and Scotland who had

just flown in that day, and some Aussie from Perth. The Dutch and Scottish guys and i

went out for a beer. The Aussie said he was going to hang out at the hostel. When we got

back, he was gone. He’d gone through all our stuff, taken everything of value, and used

my pack to haul the loot away.

Everything i had — including my passport, and all my money, other than what was in my

pocket — was gone.

The next morning, i found myself on a busy Melbourne street with a few dollars, no

change of clothes, no way of identifying myself, and wondering what the fuck to do next.

it felt great!

When l disappeared, reality was a bad dream.

I was never quite sure whether you were talking about the moment the photograph was

taken or past history.

Strangely enough I did disappear for three weeks during that time.

I lost my confidence in myself and therefore my belief in facts and memories and words I

knew perfectly well. I allowed myself to become intimidated and patronised by Marie,

who became, to me larger physically every day. You remember I am not a large person

and as time progressed I became smaller and even more insignificant, quite unnoticeable.

A dot on the landscape!

I disappear when I dance.

Over the past two months I have disappeared from myself …. and the world … many,

many times, and with intense pain! Yes, the old human standard! Totally lost and

incapable of focus and energy, over a lost relationship.

But …!!! i try to find a little of myself, and, as i have over the years lived by my maxim that

i only have this second, because it’s the only second I know and experience. For,

eventually there will not be a next second …. for anyone.”

Once there was a small girl…

The small girl had seen more in her small world than her small world should have shown

her.

So one day she closed her eyes in order to not see.

The small girl lived her life in blindness…and felt safer.

But one day all of those things she had shut her eyes on came creeping into her dreams…

The small girl could not shut her eyes on her dreams

for soon they would become nightmares.

So the small girl decided to build some wings and fly far away from those things.

She flew north and south, east and west but those things were still there, in the small girl.

She couldn’t escape them, so the small girl flew home…

And she decided instead of closing her eyes to protect her from those things,

and instead of lying awake at night to protect her from those things,

and instead of trying to fly away from those things to protect herself

she decided to open her eyes in order to see…

The small girl wanted so badly to disappear from those things,

but instead she took a deep deep breathe and fell into…memory….

For now the small girl lives from day to day

looking carefully at her small and large world……

Perhaps one day she may be able to open both eyes.…

A long luscious love letter to the soul written on embossed paper with a stamp and an

envelope and everything, followed up by a “YOUR DROPPED” txt msg.

In the olden days preceding Imacs, iphones and I will never be alone if I have my iphone.

Sitting on a jetty mid west Western Australia a thousand miles from home having just

fulfilled a childhood dream to go to the outback! This romantic dream and the harsh

reality of being a jillaroo working like a slave from dawn to dusk in the red dirt, riding a

motor cycle known as the yellow terror, mustering sheep in the 40 C heat on a 1 ó million

acre fly infested sheep and cattle station in the middle of F@#$%%^G nowhere, is a far

cry that childhood dream of riding a chestnut quarter horse into the sunset with a hot

cowboy on a big white horse by my side!!!

Arriving back to earth, the closest town was (4 hours away by mail truck) Carnarvon a

lost town- a mere blip on google maps, made up of human oddities and outcasts,

fishermen, backpackers’ and the just passing through retirees.

With only a cheque for $200 in my pocket late on a Saturday morning. I booked into the

hostel and cashed my pennys’ at the local sports shop on the premise that I buy

something. I settled on a fishing rod. With food (if I catch any) and shelter taken care of

and a past time thrown in for nothing, who knew the interesting personal journey through

time and space that my new pride and joy Rex Hunt signature edition fishing rod would

take me on.

Back to the jetty… I had two weeks to fill in while waiting for my best friend to come back

from sea she had bravely secured a position as deckhand /cook/ scallop trollop on a local

fishing trawler we missed each other by a day, however she left the keys to her 68

Belmont Ute and a bag of weed under the drivers seat. I was sorted… So every day (all

day) I sat and fished on that jetty with no one knowing me, caring for me, loving me I was

truly alone and felt it,,, After the initial shock of this revolution came the revelation. I

unintentionally turned myself inside out and upside down and thought about my entire life

up until to that point.

It was there on that jetty I disappeared lost in the gentle ebb and flow of the tide

awakening only to the sound of “catching anything” spoken by the liberated friendly

sandwich eating cup of thermos tea drinking grey nomads on their way to Broome.

The byproduct of the disappearance was simply that I got to know myself better, I swam

deeper and let go of the life buoys and life lines, All of my personal flotsam and jetsam

come to the surface and washed over me, drowning me at times but ultimately moving

away from the shallow end and making my freestyle stroke a little stronger and more

confident.

Before writing this my intent was to just get it over and done with, these days Im just too

dam busy doing nothing, my internet was annoyingly down, my home phone broken, and

my smashed Iphone already on its own journey in the abyss for 10 days without me to Mr

Fixit , I hope it will be alright . Feeling like a sinking stone without my beloved Iphone, my

story has just reminded me that being stuck in solitude in these modern times is not a

bad thing – a rare gem like a hand written love letter…

I disappeared when I was sleep walking and I woke up in mums bed and I was also

dreaming of nothing, blackness, darkness.

ah the needle pierces the cloth

as if a shining sword hath entered the flesh of Inspiration

in regard your request for some wrting on invisibiliyah

what do you mean by invisibility – do you mean being able to make oneself invisable to

the human EYE

or the invisability of an outsider –

a catalystic in the appalling Face of indignant mediocrity

or

one who leaves ones body & flies on the end of a silver cord – ah one fingers the cord as

one would finger

an ancient scar -the scar the accumulation –

the whimpering s – ravings –

the arcetypal stories of a million lives spent spinning around that legendary cursed tree of

LIFE – DEATH the self at its highest – lowest pitch -thus the embroideries ah how they

writhe under the hand screaming for freedom

the freedom of total invisability

of Heart – mind freed from the manipulations of the

Ego state -which we are unable to caste off –

that black hoods of the sacred walnut –

yea – i laugh greet you – please tell me your idea in regarde Invisability if my ideas are

relevant i shall write with pleasure yea i look forward to hearing from you

ah ah i am strangely tethered to my own indigestable type of invisability – alas for my

spelling

laughter n inspiration as the eagle flies

Conrad

i disappeared into the linen press + waited to be found,

i disappeared into the pantry,

i disappeared into a wardrobe, no-one came

i was 7 and disappeared from a bad man at the end of the street.

i disappeared into the paddock after a fight with with my mum + dad

i disappeared in a panel van to a dark back beach

disappear, disappear i was 14 -17, don’t know where, i got taken away+ felt frightened.

at dawn i disappeared from my boyfriend down a train track, i felt free.

i married + i disappeared, pregnant under the truck, i waited

i disappeared into the sunken garden,

i felt like sliding into the pond

my head got slammed into the floor..i disappeared, i saw stars….i knew what they were

talking about

inertia..i waited + waited

and disassociate from what has happened

I think I was telling you about an occasion some years ago when we last talked.

I disappeared when I was living in a cottage attached to the bakery I was working for. In

the middle of a normal morning while completing normal chores (collecting washing?) I

became overwhelmed. It felt initially like a dizzy spell, for want of a better description. I

don’t know what the trigger was, or why I had to sit down for a few moments, but at

some point during this event (faint? collapse? I closed my eyes and waited for the

moment to pass.

When I returned to the chair I was on I knew precisely where I was and what I had been

doing, but everything was changed slightly with a buzzing in the background, or a slight

change in the lightwaves. All I could see around me was familiar and foreign at once,

shiny? sharp? and very clear… I spent perhaps ten minutes just moving slowly around the

cafe trying to figure out what was wrong, what was different, but it was all too strangely familiar.

After a while I just got spooked, and rang a friend to reassure myself that everything was ok,

everything was back to normal, but the feeling of strangeness didn’t leave me for a few hours.

After that I went back to a normal routine (new normal routine? I don’t know).

When I was a child of two I was living in an orphanage with my sister who was responsible for me.

We were playing outside and I fell off some play equipment and hit my head. I remember it being

a sort of choice as to weather I chose to live or not. Now my whole life is weighed against that

decision.

Back in New Zealand when I was about 15 I was in a circle with a group of people outdoors doing

some kind of bonding exercise where we had to hug each other. During this experience I

disappeared. It was gradual then extreme and I came to on the ground with people all around me.