i won’t keep you in suspense over that title….. I’VE DONE IT! I’VE QUIT SMOKING!

it came to me in a dream, although it took about a month to come to fruition, saving me from coming to fruition in the form of a songstress coughing out kelly street in a carmen miranda headpiece i received last week in the mail. instead of wearing fruit on my head, i am now wearing a smug smile of satisfaction. i feel amazing! it’s not just the energy one gets from not inhaling burning toxins into ones lungs on a daily basis, but the knowledge that i am free. it is a very simple feeling. i like it when life boils down to the simple……things begin to make sense again.

so excited, this may all come out as gibberish, don’t know where to start or end for that matter….i’ll tell you my dream, and then i’ll get stuck into the rest of my news.

i dreamt that found myself in some new age store, believe me i was cynical even in my dream state. some hippy, airy fairy guy offered for me to sample this aromatherapeutic elixer from a two litre plastic bottle, looking not unlike a milk carton filled with water. still suspect, but with nothing to lose, i took a small sip. right away, i knew it was a powerful antidote to my smoking addiction. i about-faced and immediately began to purchase every piece of paraphernalia he had in relation to this product, elated to have found a cure that would really work.

i woke up euphoric and imagined that i would never smoke again, the message had been so vivid and effective. less than half an hour later, i lit up my first smoke for the day, disappointed, but unperturbed. the message was still with me and i knew there was a way, i just had to find it.

so, my plan came together over the next few days. i would buy the patches and whatever else it took (just as in the dream i had surrendered and put down some dough for real solutions), then as a reward and also a direct replacement for the senses, i would fill my days and nights with complex and beautiful smells, tastes and textures, like the elixers in my dream had seemed to me.

the latter came before the former, as i began integrating oils, balms and elixers into my still smokey environment. in complete non-judgement, i went with my instinct and followed whatever order this method wanted to play itself out in. i became not unlike that guy in the commercial that rises off his feet and floats on the trail of an aroma (although his leads him to a disgusting hamburger), blind, but knowing that the end result would satisfy my yen.

cut to about a week later, which kind of segues into my next piece of news (smooth piece of writing no?), and i find myself in new zealand. i agreed to attend a retreat that my publishers in melbourne put on every year, called writers bloc. this would be the first one held in nz. it’s only one of my favourite places in the world, but my response was pretty apathetic. it went along the lines of having nothing better to do and nothing to lose. in my mind, i had finished writing my album and was just sitting around getting depressed, while i worked out how i was going to record the damn thing. looking back, i realise i was in a quite the dark place. i couldn’t seem to quit smoking, i couldn’t seem to get any forward movement happening with my record, i couldn’t write any more than i had, there didn’t seem to be anything i’d want to write about anyway, etc, etc. ooh, angie get some help!

so, i hop on a plane, with a ticket in my hand, all arrangements made by someone else. as i filled out my departure form, i realised i didn’t even have a contact address for my destination. i hadn’t asked any questions about the trip at all. i didn’t know if i was staying in auckland, if i’d be sharing a room, would it be cold, should i have brought any equipment? i had a pen, paper and my cassette walkman (back to basics, after my forays on garageband). i baa-ed like a sheep (nz appropriate sound) and boarded the plane, with a fake contact address on my departure slip. i don’t take any cigarettes with me, i don’t tell anyone, i’m thinking of quitting and i don’t buy any in duty free.

i arrived that evening to this sight,

that day i smoked three cigs in melbourne and one at the very end of my first day in paradise. there are no shops where we are staying and only a few people smoke…. and i’m shy (luck is on my side).

when the sun rose the next day, i realised i had once again fallen on my feet, and not a day too soon.

i smoked one cig on my first full day there and even then, not before six pm, by which time i’d written two songs with a wonderful man, tama waipara, who coincidentally has lived in new york for the last eight years. it was nice to connect with a fellow antipodean who could relate to my last nine years in l.a. he was a great ice breaker for my first day in the unknown….. oh, and he’d just quit the cigs two weeks ago, without any qualms, just walked away from them no patches, nothing, as it seemed i was was somehow doing without planning it.

the next day, i wrote with my dear old friend, of ‘not given lightly’ fame, chris knox. we churned out three songs of strangeness, charming inconsistancy and just plain weirdness.
i was hoping for a smoke free day that would kick off a smoke free life. at 11pm, after a day of harrassment, coaching and policing from chris, i caved. i knew i needed one final burner to carry me over the threshold to a sweet smelling, aroma filled existence. in complete trust, i indulged one last time…. surprisingly, unlike all the cigs i’ve smoked of late, that just remind me one at a time how much i hate smoking, this last cigarette tasted like a fine cigar and was most enjoyable. i still knew it would be the last, and like the enjoyable last bite of a fantastic meal, i savoured it, then said goodnight and goodbye to smoking.

the three days of writing felt something like this, this is adalita of magic dirt, sharing a moment with the sunset.

i woke on my third writing day, a little weary, which was understandable after having co-written five songs in two days. so, i decided that whatever the day brought, i’d go easy on myself and not judge. i was teamed up with a guy named justyn pilbrow, from a rocking band, the elemeno p’s. one look will tell you we don’t have a lot in common….. or so you’d assume. we sat down and found common ground in about two seconds, talking about ‘my bloody valentine’. the thought of making a song that seemed to have no beginning and no end sounded exciting to both of us. he played me two chords and i spun out a melody and a page of lyrics in less than half an hour. we were recording soon after that. for the sessions at bethels, when you finish writing a song, there are two engineers on site with portable studio set-ups and you just alert them to the fact that you have a song to document. that day was a busy one, with six to eight writers all on the go and no studios could be comandeered. so justin and i improvised, using my cassette walkman (i knew it would come in handy), as a michrophone for both the vocals and the guitars. he layed down layers of lush, intimate guitars and sounds, running them by me in intervals. taking a stroll and shooting the breeze every now and then, when our ears and eyes needed refreshing. we were both extremely excited with our discovery and the song that was born from such organic primitive tools was what we both considered even from our differing genres and fields, to be the epitomy of beauty.

we are in contact about some more recording and i am in motion again.

at auckland airport, buoyant from my freedom and lack of stagnancy, i felt i needed an indulgence. i entered the health store and purchased a dr. hauscha rose hand cream. i didn’t hold back in explaining to the girl at the counter that this was my reward for quitting smoking. she was suitably excited and wished me luck.

upon my arrival back in the land of the shorter, greyer clouds, i lay down some dosh at the aesop counter, one of my favourite cosmetic indulgences. i am saving around $60-$70 a week on the cigs. so an initial kick down on my benefits is completely justified.

so far, i have two pub experiences under my belt. both were successful. whenever i felt the urge, i whipped out my handcream, some lip balm, a peppermint and lavender roll-on oil called ‘migrastick’ and go to town on my senses. if that’s not enough, tic tacs are also tasting amazing.

thank you all for your advice, pestering and support,

ang x