The time is now.

I don’t even know what time it actually is.

I’ve been travelling for almost 24 hours, after leaving new, dear friends in Fargo, North Dakota USA around lunchtime on Monday. I have crossed a dozen time zones, slept intermittently, and done my absolute best to relax and feel even remotely comfortable on this long-haul adventure.

I’m maybe an hour or two from seeing my family again, after a simultaneously long, and oh-so-brief, 7 days away. I’ve missed the warmth of my wife’s lips, the cheekiness of my son’s grin, and the knowing, piercing eyes of my daughter.

If I know my wife, they’ll all be waiting at the bottom of the ramp after customs, ready to meet me. No matter that they’ll have to get up even earlier than my kids normally do, or that there’s a high likelihood my daughter will be late for school.

The point is, they’ve missed me as I them, and they’re coming to meet me – screw the consequences.


I have spent the last 4 or 5 days in the company of some of the most inspiring people on the planet.

They are not inspiring because they have great ideas and talk about them. They are not inspiring because they see the world a little differently to most. (They do both of those things.)

They are inspiring because they stand against the surging tide of boring, mediocre lives, and they create art out of their lives.

They are each a living, breathing expression of choosing extraordinary instead of average, of actually DOING SOMETHING about their great ideas, and of making a massive difference in the world.

Because they can, and because to them it’s unthinkable to have these ideas and NOT act upon them.


I’ve spent a good portion of my return journey (when I’ve not been sleeping) reflecting upon what I’ve learned, and who I’ve met in the last week.

I’ve thought about my own life, and the number of art projects I’ve conceived and not acted upon.

I’ve thought about my legacy, and how I want my children to speak of me when I’m on the great big adventure in the sky.

I’ve thought, over and over again, about how my perspective, my lens on the world will never, ever be the same.


The most important thought I’ve had – the one that keeps rising to the surface after each successive wave of inspiration crashes through my consciousness – is this:


It’s time to start living a life of clear, sharp intention.

It’s time to live a life of meaning, of contribution, of making the difference in the world that ONLY I CAN MAKE.

It’s time for my life to be the embodiment of my art – the ultimate expression of creativity, and love, and wonder, and purpose, that I can dream of.


I have lost count of how many times I’ve cried these past few days.

I’m becoming very familiar with the hot, choking feeling in my throat as the emotions surge and the salty tears cascade down my cheeks.

I’ve learned to welcome this feeling, rather than bite it back into my chest, because it is my body’s way of telling me I’m on the right path.


When I am moved so deeply, so viscerally, that I have a physical reaction to my emotions and feelings, it is then I realise how true I am being to myself.

The warmth of my tears speaks volumes about honesty and integrity, and in a maelstrom of ideas and fears and doubts and passions, they are my compass.

I don’t know exactly what comes next after this life-changing experience, because I haven’t created it yet. But I know that regardless of the direction, it will be one of purpose, of intention, and ultimately one where I express my art.


I have just read an incredibly succinct and powerful book about minimalism and living the best life possible, and I have just re-read a manifesto written by Chief Misfit AJ Leon – both of these in the past 12 hours on flights from the USA to Sydney Australia.

They both made me cry, several times, and have cemented my resolve that NOW is the time to start creating and living the live I am meant to be living.

Although I don’t know exactly what time it is – either in the USA, in Sydney, or on the flight I’m sitting on as I write this, I have come to a single conclusion:



As always, this comes from my heart to you, with love,
Israel. xo


Written on a flight from LA to Sydney, somewhere over the Pacific, somewhere between June 3 and 5, 2013.