rule 1: there are no rules

word up.

i'm feeling energised and relaxed in equal measure, so if you don't mind i'm just gonna shoot the shit for a while... ie. ramble away to myself about what's buzzing under my skin tonight. i might raise my head in a meerkat kinda way every now and again and give you a nod, but otherwise assume i'm going into journal mode and the space i'm in is neither profound or reflective, just wanting to check in with myself and find my centre of gravity for the coming few days. (ie this'll likely be rather dull if you're not me).

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i rocked out for a while with my headfonze on and i think i've hurt my right thumb (glad to be a southpaw). must have knocked it off something while in the throes of aural passion. i'm sitting at the back door just out of the rain, which is making lovely plip-ploppy sounds off the leaves in the yard.

a girl was singing and playing guitar next door... i'm guessing they had the back doors open. i could see candle light flickering. i went out and had a smoke in the rain. stood down by the back gate and listened for a while. considered putting a note through their front door in the morning saying how much i liked it...kinda beth orton feel...

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i really kinda love thursday evenings and this one, well, it matched up pretty well i guess...they don't always turn out the way one might hope but, in theory, thursday night at it's best is filled with anticipation of me-day (aka friday)...letting ideas float through my brain to be used in the creative playtime i'll have and turning my inner compass toward time with sigmund, the themes of the week, although in reality i guess i usually end up telling him about the first event of import that comes into my head and we follow the path it opens up...

went to an exhibition opening - ben jones' first gallery show... some great urban photography.
if i were to invest in some artwork anytime soon, then this collection would be a strong temptation... i was impressed... having really gotten into the whole negative space thing ricky does with his urban stuff...really strong converging lines and geometric shapes, i found myself appreciating a totally different quality in this stuff ben's been doing...i think it was colour, a richness, something like textural softness rather than structural (?)... nice to see how different styles work in contrast... the different moods or perspectives that come through different eyes...each sees the world in a different way...and when you really look you can see it... feel it...see the person in the picture... the eye that was observing...jayne'd see something else again. another take. same with bananie. or jude. or paul c. i'd see something else too i guess. maybe. fuck i know some seriously talented and above all creative humanoids. so inspiring. which is so much better than intimidated... although walking into that gallery was still as ever a kind of daunting experience... a sea of faces you don't know and everyone looking to see who's around...loved the way the images were mounted... must find out how it was done... note to self: some kind of block mounting thing. what's the process? find out.

jonny was dj-ing. some seriously nice stuff going on in the mix, and it was almost a shame to have to make conversation and not just sit down in the corner, close my eyes and let it wash over...that said, i had some nice conversation...

went for a delicious indian meal with susan and her 3 incredible offspring and jayne and i ate a massive plate of chicken tikka garlic. well done me. makes up for foregoing food for duke special yesterday...

there has been incredible response to the :5 women in luke: service that susan organised two sunday's ago... it really struck a chord and she's been getting lots of unsolicited feedback...she's suggested tonight that we revisit the collaborative approach again...i like this idea. i like susan. i feel safe and encouraged and inspired in her presence...yay for her.

went down to clements and despite the cooling air sat outside on the pavement tables and just watched the world go by and intermittently read most of the latest issue of Attitude. felt really relaxed in my own company. wow. i wrote that? ha. there's a mark of progress made. sat inside my headfonze and just slipped into a detached observational mode... allowing my eye to notice people, how they carry themselves, their clothes, their interactions...no purpose other than to let the busyness of the street act like a long drink for my senses... not analysing what went into my head... felt really good...

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i started on my first collage tonight... made the first mark. and it felt good...
just enough so that when i wake in the morning i'm not faced with a blank 'canvas'...am reading julia cameron's :vein of gold: as a guide for the process. most important lesson (i paraphrase): switch off the skeptic voice. or defy it. resist your resistance. just do it. she's a big fan of creating sound scapes in this book to get you in the zone... ah, a woman after my own heart...

the collages are each gonna be accompanied by a cd walkman providing a soundtrack to the images, and i've just constructed the basic running for each...they can be a soundtrack for creating them too...

man oh man, the month of september is gonna be a busy one getting ready for this... i need to focus on ikon preparation over the next week... need to start righting some stickies for my desktop so i keep on top of it all...

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jayne gave me a beautiful gift today. she turned up at the office and presented me with a 2.5 kilo tub of modelling clay...one panicked text later and i am as feared led to understand the only rule is: there are no rules...yikes. my boundaries are gonna be stretched. gonna see if i can find my inner playfulness or rage...

i'm gonna miss her in september. she's going to texas for most of the month and i realise as i write how good she is at reminding me of the need for safety nets when i go to the place where i draw on darkness... at the heart of one of my pieces is an act of self destruction...my defaced portrait...maybe i should ask her to make signs to put up on my walls... reminders of the mantras and nets i need when i go down the dark corridors to meet with broken memories...makes me think of that freaky squeaky voiced medium in :the poltergeist: she was like 4 foot nothing or something and had really gigantic glasses, or is that my imagination...go towards the light... ha. she's so committed to making time for her own work is j, gets me of my ass...gets me some discipline...

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been thinking a lot this past 24 hours about the significance in my small world of getting the gb piece published... feels like a landmark moment... steve-O sent me a cool text earlier, having read the hard copy... i read some kind of quote earlier today in :vein of gold: that went something like:
what you get paid for is a job. what you live (love?)to do is your work.
said, consider myself a writer. getting paid is not the purpose. he got to the end and thought, i want there to be a next one... i value his opinion. i value him. i was ready for any kind of critique he wanted to throw at me... but the massive pat on the back was really cool... wow. and dear mo... i've gone back again and again to her text from yesterday. she's like a fuzzy blanket of cosiness and love. so damned encouraging. she's a walking smile of care and good spirit. another talented two...

on days like these writing feels like my work... it's like breathing these days...i feel like i'm getting to know myself...creatively escaping my anxiety?... want to discuss...see if we can't find another phrase...it feels like a... dunno...need to articulate that thread of thought, where's it going? and i'm trying so hard to learn cameron's lesson that you just have to keep doing it. don't worry about doing it well. keep writing. keep creating. and do it as unselfconsciously as possible. free yourself up. leave the critic at the door. it feels good right now to be able to write stuff that isn't angst laden. i felt like i poured my heart the other day pulling the strands of that piece together...it was draining i think. or maybe just tiring. but it also made me feel so vitally alive...

now i've got me a hunger to play evaporated by :ben folds five: yay. sometimes you just gotta sing...:)

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What I've kept with me
And what I've thrown away
And where the hell I've ended up
On this glary random day
Are the things I really cared about
Just left along the way
For being too pent up and proud

Woke up way too late
Feeling hung over and old
And the sun was shining bright
And I walked barefoot down the road
Started thing about my old man
It seems that all men
Wanna get into a car and go anywhere

Here I stand,
Sad & free
I can't cry and I can't see
What I've done
Oh God...What have I done?

Don't you know I'm numb, man
No I can't feel a thing at all
Cause it's all smiles and business these days
and I am indifferent to the loss
I've faith that there's a soul somewhere
who's leading me around
I wonder if she knows
Which way is down...

Here I stand,
Sad & free
I can't cry and I can't see
What I've done
Oh God...What have I done?

And I poured my heart out
I poured my heart out
It evaporated...see?

Blind man on a canyon's edge
of a Panoramic scene
Or maybe I'm a kite
That's flying high & random
Dangling a string
Or slumped over in a vacant room
Head on a stranger's knee
I'm sure back home
They think I've lost my mind

Here I stand,
Sad & free
I can't cry and I can't see
What I've done
Oh God...What have I done?

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love that track. love it so very much. i think that might just be the song i'd most like to sing with pete. sitting in some dingy bar at a piano...level five segues into that... ha. there's a dream...

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homework check:
1. get hold of a copy of 'i know why the caged bird sings'... must do that tomorrow
2. dialogue with the super-ego monster...ask it what it's purpose is if it shows up?

didn't feel like it showed up much this week... maybe the threat of conversation pushed it back a little... well, except for in the intense doubting moments while writing... and it's no doubt behind my nervousness at the thing going live... my only response was to keep reaffirming the honesty of it... the voicing of it all... and that i wrote myself into a place of hope...and if nothing else that's a really good thing... no, it's fucking great... i didn't just escape anxiety, i went forward toward something good that i had been struggling to find...and if someone else gets something out if then that's cool too... and that dark shape was there just now when i let my imagination get wistful and wishful, lurking, telling me little dreams are pointless exercises. ok. why? what harm does it do? it speaks to what i love. what wants to come out... the bit of me that wants to express...and i have no doubt it'll show up if i play with clay tomorrow morning... maybe i've been avoiding it... ignoring it? hmm. maybe it's the voice of such self doubt...regardless... need to be vigilant... it'll be easier to do the pain collage even if it's there... i'll let it speak through me, no. no. that's not it. need to let it fuel my anger...use it to fight with. i have a story i want to tell. to say it like it is. i'll be damned if it stops me. but then i need to answer it with overspilling of :me: into the joy piece... letting the lush green push up and pour out... that's gonna be a lot harder... need to get me some nourishment...feed the greenness...laugh...sing...dance...have some fun... be playful... finding the balance between the two pieces is gonna be a real challenge... but i so want to do it...i can...i can. i can.

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head's up

a tad overdue but the other week i spent a delightful laughter filled couple of hours at the cafe with susan enan, jayne and their good friend emma. i hadn't seen nor been in contact with susan in ages, not i think since she moved to new york...she mentioned she stops off here to get my news (i get her's via jayne), of which i was entirely unaware ... so, "hey susan. welcome. nice to know you're in the neighbourhood." she's rather talented this gal... as you'll discover here...

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sheesh! 3am. time for zzzzz.

may these next few days be ::creative. enjoyable. productive.::

LB,x