Paul Newman died today.

I must admit I knew little about him other than Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and his charitable range of Newman's Own foods. But reading about his life I was deeply moved by this specific statement...

"He is survived by his wife, five children, two grandsons and his older brother Arthur."

...Not just in relation to Paul Newman, but to life itself. The need to pass on one's genes, to continue and exist, even in the tiniest of instances. A biological imperative, a need so strong, to perpetuate oneself over time.

Maybe it's because I turned 30, but I feel this need. And it scares me into thinking what's really important in life. Fuck work - what drives the need to advance one's career? Is it born out of a need for survival, or to prove one's worth? What is worth? What satisfies our own being, not just those who came before us?

I feel the need to advance not just my career, but my own life experience. A round the world trip. A journey of self-discovery and cultural exploration. To see the beauty of the world, untainted by expectation, greed and false promises.

Stay tuned...