I realise I’ve left this blog somewhat lonely for a time. Anyway without further ado (is it ever with further ado? Perhaps there are times when a further ado is precisely what is required…) here is an update of my various activities.
I have been writing more over the last year or so. More poetry/lyrics/songs etc. Some of this output has found its way into the lyrics and vocal recordings as part of my work with the electronic collaborations Echo Rescue and Points of Convergence. More material to come from both projects, including video work as soon as I work out how to use my iPhone properly…
Apart from that I am writing short stories.
I have also been trying my hand at some extra (extra as in background extra for film and TV, not just additional) work. As a way to earn a little extra cash and explore parts of Sydney I wouldn’t normally visit, being part of a ‘background’ cast is good fun. I have done a few small/student works to try out a bit of actual acting as well, and hope to do some more.
So, that’s what I’ve been doing. Back to work.
The ants don’t seem to notice
They continue in their industrious many-legged strides
Heading to solemn purpose
Across dusty paving stone, sun-scorched lawn and Biro-flecked page.
My aim is clearer:
To recover and renew
To discover comforting patterns in the void
To rework the threads currently hanging loose about mind and body.
Not looking back.
Hot squash always helps
Or perhaps cordial would be ideal
For a day looking out the window
Why are there no painkillers in the rainforest?
Because the Parrots Eat ’em All
No they don’t
They just fly away and chatter in colour
Why has the common cold not been cured yet?
Blame the wrestling master called Big Pharma
I remember Tunes and Lockets and that nice tasting
Cough mixture that made you feel slightly sozzled
Ruminate, meditate or detoxicate
Ambient chill music and tea
The future looks a little clearer
I can see it in the mirror
More hot squash needed, it says.
1. A Fear of the number 13
2. Friday 13th.
3. Unlucky for most
4. Who witness this
5. Dumber One
6. Assault on the senses.
7. Another old Greek word is
9. But the more modern
11. Says it just as well
12. And Shouts louder
13. On July 13th
Jenga in the hotel lobby
Brass bands in the street
Towers get built up to the sky
And knocked down on repeat
There’s plenty of conflict
And an ongoing war
But here the hand grenades
Are for throwing from bar to the floor
Like an abandoned shopping trolley in the breeze
He moves back and forth on the bench
Shuffling his notes around
Waiting to speak
The time doesn’t arrive
He moves back and forth on the bench
As of nearly 2 weeks ago, I am a resident of Sydney, Australia. There is a lot to write about and explore, but for now, here is the first of many responses to this new life…
From over and out to under and around, the day seemed clear enough
We’d pack all our things and depart on the wings
And go from there to here.
Australia chimes through as melody
A loud enough blast of intensity and colour
The shine directed with no hidden extras
Everything in shot and strictly in focus.
The smell of the lotion mixes with the sea spray
The early morning birdcall sounds out an age-old greeting :
The sun, the sun – the giver of life!
In wait of an unexpected unwant
Form and context
Leaves them in struggle
How to portray the thoughts
That appear unbidden
Without giving away
Every last detail of misgiving?
A dog barks somewhere
And a hand is raised
The game play changes
But the rules remain
Arms become outstretched
Working on ideas
New ways to clear out the cistern
Transform the system
Filter out the noise
From outside speakers
Bent double-time in scriptures
A pointless so-ill-oquy
That tarnishes the hi-fi
And chucks blue dirt in blind eyes
This journey needs a new compass
Because we need to see
North from South
Up from Down
Right from Left and Right from Wrong
All wrong and no mistaking
No more cries or bellyaching
Things cannot remain the same
Things cannot continue as they are
Putting the pieces together
And then taking them apart
Frustrated by symmetry
And a semblance of art
When all around is confusion
And chaos on demand
The schedule is nightmare
A sentence without remand
I’d like to change the picture
And bring it more in line
But as you know tracking’s touchy
And the bells don’t always chime
Whether we like it or not
This shit’s always on repeat
So don’t bother with the timer
It’ll be on again next week…