Back 2 blog

After a stop-start summer, i'm getting ready to travel to japan! I'm thinking about keeping a bit of a net journal using a mix of blogger and flickr. from my rusty mobile phone. Here's a test post with a pic snapped at the brill greenman festival last weekend :)

in org your ay shun

They say yesterday was the most depressing day of the year. Without realising it, I was indeed very down in the dumps for no real reason. it was raining on me during my cycle into work, I was REALLY tired and brain dead after a weekend away and I had far too much to think about in my jobs to really want to focus on any of them. Anyway, an early(ish) night to bed and 8 hours later I'm a bit more equipped to take on today.

WTF? However, I have just heard on the radio that 90% of the tickets for Glastonbury have been sold. I keep telling myself I'll go every year, but haven't made it since 1998. It probably isn't meant to be.

What was I saying? Oh yes, shitty days, now is a good day I hope. I've personally got the fear for the day ahead, but only because I've got to give assessment feedback to some students, and it's new territory for me and I don't want to bring them any bad news. Maybe though the good news of today will wash it away somewhat. The good news being OBAMARAMALAMADINGDONG! Yup, all the attention is on Washington DC today as Mr. Obama becomes president in Amorica. It's all quite exciting - more so if you're American I imagine.

Mr. Barak does have a real sense of celebrity razamataz about him. The first time I saw him stride into a press conference after being elected, I felt a buzz in the air (even though I was watching on TV about 3000 miles away) He's got the super celebrity that someone like Frank Sinatra or Munroe might have had. Every word he utters is expected to be inspirational and will help usher in a time of peace and growth for all of humanity.

It's all a bit crazy isn't it?
The world have now put so much expectation on every move, every letter that falls from his mouth. From here on in the weight of the world will be jumping about on his shoulders. I hope the world doesn't get too disappointed when this time next year there'll still be wars in the world, The global economy will still be in tatters, and probably getting worse and there still won't be a cure for Cancer, Aids or the common cold.

I'm sure Obama will be the best president of the USA in living memory and I sincerely hope he keeps living the dream and gets America and the world back on it's feet and talking to each other about how to make things better, but we do need to keep in mind he's just a man, not a superhero.

Unless of course he's a reptile from Sirius, but that's another story...

You shouldn't be on the Pavement

My bike is my main mode of transport. Closely followed by my legs, taxi's, buses and as a passenger in my girlfriend's car (I do have a license to drive, but I"m out of practice, scared of driving and feel eviro guilt).

I cycle to work every day, and back again. I normally adhere to the rules of the road, and occasionally use the pavement as a means to get somewhere safer (than I would on the road) or if I'm particularly tired, or it's dark and I have no lights.

This morning on the way in I came to point in my journey where I slip onto a busier road - this morning was chocka, with a long bendy bus holding up proceedings, too many cars too close to the kerbside, so I decided to hop up onto the pavement until I got further down the road. The pavement was clear, aside from one or two commuters and the man who gives away the free tabloid newspaper by the traffic lights. I came to two women, probably younger than myself and slowed down and walked the bike with my feet on the ground, as I normally do to avoid seeming to impatient and a bike bully. In the heirachy of my transport world, I have utmost respect for pedestrians, as opposed to not much for drivers on the whole (of course if I'm in the car, that changes). I was shunting along behind these girls, and one said to the other "oop, watch out" - they sidestepped and I passed with a "Sorry" and "thankyou". The 'friend' came out with
"Well you shouldn't be on the pavement anyway".

I wanted to retort "Well, you shouldn't be allowed outside you ugly bitch".
I didn't, and apologetically said "but look how busy it is, I don't want to die".
She said something else inaudible, then in a rage of early morning-no coffee just started ramble swearing as I do with a multitudes of go fuck yourself you fucking stupid fuck. I don't think she heard, but it really put a pisser on my morning. The sun was shining, I was getting some excercise on my bike - lovely! Then a pedestrain, one of my non-combustion brethren pees on my parade. Damn.

ripped jeans

It's a few years late, but I've finally got myself a pair of ripped-in-the-knee jeans. I'd had a day of not much direction and very little focus - going from errand to errand, which involved buying a new inner tube for my bike as my back wheel was so peppered with punctures it only seemed fitting to furnish it with a brand new inner tube (I even splashed out on the fancy self-repairing variety). After swiftly replacing it, I did a couple of hours procrastination (work) and then decided to go and pay a cheque into the bank.

Riding my fully pumped bike into town on a day with some rare sunshine, music in my ears and on a mission, things were great. Great until the back wheel of my bike decided to come undone and throw me over the handlebars in the middle of rush hour. I felt foolish and luckily unharmed. Please with myself that I had decided to wear my helmet on this outing, I picked myself up and got my steed ready to carry on the journey.

I thought nothing of my slightly grazed knee feeling until I locked down and saw the hole in my jeans' knee and could feel a damp bit of blood. I didn't want to look and felt it more prudent to just go home and forget about town.
Anyway - a long story later, it now means I've got a ripped pair of jeans, which make me feel like I should be in McFly or even Busted circa 2006.

On my way home I encountered a cyclist taking the route I just had, but he had no helmet and was beaming with cockish abandon with only one hand on the handlebar and his other hand resting on a jaunty 90 degree knee. He must have been a fairweather cyclist fuck face I decided with no regard for my tragedy, and merely rubbing my face further into the asphalt. Then to show me how cool I might now look I stood next to a man also clearly in his thirties while waiting to cross at a pelican crossing wearing a pair of purpose cut in the knee jeans. He seemed equally as smug as the fairweather cyclist fuck face, brandishing an empty Mc Donalds drinks cup, a topshop plastic bag (no doubt full of more cut-knee jeans) and 'WE ARE THE SUPERLATIVE CONSPIRACY' headphones (I don't know why, but headphones made by a fashion label annoy me to buggery, but after reading WESC's manifesto, I don't care and think they are a way-cool brand that I might one day buy into. yeah. um what was I saying? Oh yes, and I wondered in a comedy fashion (high in the head from endorphins) - how do Topman or any other high street or high-fashion brand/label they get the hole in the knees? And why did someone think it be a good idea to pay a premium for? My favourite (only) pair of jeans were bust up and blood stained. Cool as hell.

Scrumpy

I apologies for this post - it's a geek-out-fest and up tight ramble that is probably far too long for any sane person to read fully, but I just needed to get it off my chest. not that really know what it is.

Those of you who know my computing habits and preferences will know that these days I generally favour using Apple computers. I own a 2ghz 20” G5 imac and a 500mhz G4‘hotrodded’ Pismo laptop with as many bells and whistles as could possibly be squeezed in. I also have a beige box under the desk running windows and Ubuntu. All of my current computers are either hand me downs (the beige box) or second hand (pismo and imac). I’m just not in the financial position to afford brand new computers when I eventually need to upgrade, especially because my tastes happen to be on the pricey side of the computer market. To me, my G5 imac is one of the fastest computers I’ve had the pleasure to use on a daily basis, and my daily basis consists of a mixed bag - web and print design, a bit of flash, identity design, illustration and occasionally some motion graphics and video editing. The pismo has served me well and as a mobile computer it has felt perfectly usable for basic web work, photoshop, VJing and I recently had to complete a motion graphics project on it using After Effects 7 - it was painful, but it did the job. My old Windows desktop(RIP) that I used until the pismo turned up was pushing 5 and would still be in use if the celeron hadn’t burnt itself out. I’m sure however, if you regularly use a computer made within the past 2.0 years would be amazed at how I can survive on such ‘ancient’ technology, especially with the inclusion of speedy dual core intel processors in all apple computers since early 2006.

Recently I’ve been getting the odd bit of work from a small design studio that requires me to take a computer with me to work. Due to the nature of the work - mostly motion or video, I’ve been taking my imac, but it’s just so unwieldily and impractical, and even been putting up with the pismo on occasion. If I was to keep getting such work and be able to do the job without getting laughed out of town, it was clear I needed to get a modern laptop. The Pismo will go to a good home in the form of my lovely girlfriend who will mostly use it for word processing and web surfing. It’ll be a huge speed boost , as she’s been used to using a hand-me down G3 Lombard (from her sister) and it means I can keep an eye on the geriatric workhorse (the laptop, not Debbie) and keep it ticking along (that’s one machine I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of - it’s a masterpiece).

So I needed a cheap laptop. I don’t have any savings, I currently live out of my overdraft, and I didn’t want to have to get finance (although it was tempting). My first temptation was of course a new macbook pro, but at £1,500 just wasn’t an option. There’s phone bills, rent and the cat's vet bills to be paid, So I hit ebay. A ‘new’ ‘book costs about a grand second hand, and the earlier pro models are anything between the 600 mark and £900. I’m a struggling freelancer without a bean to my name, and the plan was to buy this laptop on a credit card and py it off in two installments. I was going to have to take a more drastic cut. I considered a Windows laptop (unfortunately Ubuntu just still isn’t an option for my professional work) as I could probably get a dual core, with about 2 gigs of RAM for about the £400 price point. The studio I do some work for are all on Windows (so I’m the black sheep when I turn up) so that would work fine, but to be honest I don’t think I could bring myself to do it. I'm happy to use windows if I have to, and I don't have anything against it, but I just prefer using OS X especially if it’s my own personal machine we’re talking about.

A friend of mine was selling a G4 Aluminium powerbook. about a 1.3 speed I think and 1.5 gig’o’RAM. However, it’s a bit battered - has been around the world a number of times and I don’t think has ever had it’s permissions repaired. I thought I’d probably be able to get it for about £200, so it would make sense. When I enquired, he had already sold it to a colleague for £500. Blimey - the second hand apple market is more bouyant than I thought. Scouring ebay it seemd the colleague must have thought it to be a macbook pro. At a push, a dubious 1st revision model macbook pro will be about £550 and a mid range G4 powerbook, about £300-400. I put a bid on a final revision G4 - 1.67ghz, 2 gigs RAM and 80 gig HD. It also came pre installed with Leopard (I foolishly thought it would include the Leopard install disks, durr) . I won it and it arrived last week. It hasn’t got a scratch on it (it now does have a large scratch from god knows where). It’s as good as new and the battery lasts about 2 hours. I unpacked it from it’s original box, complete with every bit of original packaging. So, despite it’s age, at £350 I felt I’d snapped up a bargain. However, when I do this sort of thing I usually get racked with doubt - I’ll spend days trying to justify a move to myself. The internal debate rages -

“I wanted a cheap laptop to replace my aging pismo and I got one”
“Ahhh, but G4 powerbooks are such old technology, it’ll be unusable in a years time”
“but it’s a final revision - this is 3 year old computing at it’s best, and I’m sure some good stuff must have been done on computers as long ago as 2005 - it'll see me good for another couple of years at least”
“Yes, but how’s it going to cope with CS3 and all modern software from here on in?”
“But my G5 handles most things”
“But it’s a G5”

And so on AdNauseum. So I was going to sell it on for the price I bought it for and rinse my credit card another 3-4 hundered to get a second hand macbook pro, but what if it’s not in as good condition - this powerbook is a rare find. I don’t like doing lots of work on laptops, and I still really enjoy using my 20” screen imac. If I was using a dual core intel I’d leave my imac to rust, but then again I could always get a really big screen to run off my super fast laptop and maybe the next version of photoshop and osx won’t run on powerpc chips. I looked on forums and the opinion seemed to be universal - ‘You’d be silly to get a PowerPC computer these days, intel blows them away. G4 is old reduntant technology, why get outdated machines to do todays work?.....I’ve been driving myself insane for days with thoughts like these. Hours spent looking at online reviews and forums when I should’ve been working are taking it’s toll and I just need some conclusion. Then I saw a quote saying “I’ve got a rule of buying a new computer - it must be at least twice as fast as my current model”.
This G4 is at least 4 times as fast as the 8 year old Pismo I’ve been using as my on the go / on the sofa computer and as a live performance machine. It will be a perfect companion to my G5 - they feel to actually seem run at about the same pace (imac on Tiger, powerbook on Leopard).

I’m a luddit with new technology and I’ve never regulary used one of these new fangled mactel things so I don’t know what I’m missing.
This laptop is absolutely beautiful and is so light and just runs amazingly compared to the pismo, and I’m becoming rather attached to it.
I can now turn up to meetings and jobs without looking like I’ve just stepped out of 1999.
I’m getting asked to do more live video performance, I used to use my pismo with ease - this is going to blow me away.

So! Finally I have come to a happy conclusion. I really do enjoy using this laptop and after using it for my steady workflow the last few days, it handles everything I've thrown at it with style and panache. If I can use an 8 year old computer up untill two weeks ago, this metallic beast will surely see me good for at least a couple more years, by which time I'll really be aching for a new desktop - and the cycle will be complete. I'm still computing it old skool and rocking PowerPC with pride. The pace at which technology seems to outdo itself is staggering, and I almost wish there would be a cut off point where we say "Right! that's it. there'll be no technological advancements for a while, so that everyone can get an optimal computing experience". I don't need or even want to be living in the uber fast lane.

A computer is just a tool after all, and the current system seems to doom everything to obsolescence as soon as it's on the market. I wonder if it'll ever reach a tipping point.

back on the horse. (not that one)

Maybe it's my lack of getting up early over the winter months, a periodic dissatisfaction of always being 'on' , or forgetfulness but after not touching my blog for a while, I fancy getting back on the wild horse that is wasting time writing my blog. Most of my entries seem to start this way, as if I'm apologising to my imagined public - hordes of readers hanging on my every bloggy movement. Not sure why.

So, TV turn off week came and went from April the 21st - 27th, although this year it was billed 'Mental Detox' week, as in this modern age, it's not just TV that is vying for our head-space, but the internet, video games, mobile phones, toasters etc. I think the idea was to not waste time surfing the net when not working (at your computer) and instead of playing Ikaruga (on my Dreamcast), have a potato gun fight. Addicted to Scrabblicous? have some friends over and dust of the analogue board. I wholeheartedly agree with the concept, but although I kept the idea in my mind, life got in the way and I pilled up on the mental junk food as normal. I do plan on going camping at some point over the Summer though with my mobile turned off, So I'll just postpone my detox. 

Of course, Shut Down Day this weekend might be more successful as I've got into the dangerous habit of actually having weekends lately. Crazy but true. I'm also having fewer late night working sessions - I must either be getting lazy or deciding that slothfullness is greater than being a workaholic. Maybe it's the consequence of living with my girlfriend. I'm not blaming her, but god knows if I was still al bachelor I'd be burning my candles 24-7.

Full Effect

I was thinking just the other day that something was missing in my life. Not physical things - I have an amazing girlfriend, a house, a cat, a speedy bike and just about enough gadgets (although a DS would be nice). No I realised I was lacking a certain ephemeral something. I tried some yoga, meditated for a few mornings, had a chat with the Jesus, sat under a tree with Buddha, but nothing was filling me up. Then I remembered! I haven't done my blog in a while - that must be it. Let's see...
Well January was a bit bonkers - I turned 30 for one. Normally getting older doesn't bother me, and indeed the past decade or so getting older has seemed to equate with life getting better, more together and despite time speeding up, has generally been a good thing. Not 30. something hit me for a good week and I still don't know what it was exactly - maybe it's the realisation that I haven't achieved quite what I was expecting as a boy dreaming of life in my 30's - I'm not a millionaire for one thing and I'm constantly being reminded by all the hep young talented twentysomethings that this is their time - they've got the skills and drive to get them where they want, they're telling me to step aside granddad or something. Debbie reckons I get moody every year around my birthday, and indeed I do use the time for reflection and gathering myself ready for a new year, but this year I felt blue.
Anyway, that's all passed now and I've begun teaching basic web stuff at two (count them) different Universities and despite me almost cacking it before each lesson, it's all going along just fine so far. I've been drafted in on more than one occaission to another design studio to help out in a freelancing sort of way and the weather has been sunny for almost a week now. Things are groovy.
However, since turning 30 one thing has truly made me a MAN. No, I haven't wrestled an Alligator, and I haven't killed another life with my bare hands (yet).
A few weekends ago Debbie and I hired some industrial machinary and I sanded the bedroom floor. Don't snigger, it was hardcore. we spent two days dressed up in protective clothing, ear defenders, safety goggles and dust masks and shaped those muthaluvin' planks of wood with so many expensive sheets of sandpaper (starting with a coarse and ending on a smooth fine) and felt the onset on vibration damage through my arms with the glorious tone of tinitus ringing in my ears.
I'm not much of a DIY person truth be told, but damn it was satisfying. going from warped, dirty and painty boards so a smooth pine finish with a beautiful grain shining through. The plan was to do my studio room too, but once we began, that was thrown out of the window. It's a nasty job (I know a man who charges £400 a day to do it) and I wouldn't do it again in a hurry, but now I have the knowledge, it's one less thing for me to be afraid of once the apocalypse comes.

Twothousandandeight - Don't be late

aaaaaaah! the feeling of a freshly laundered year is here again just like clockwork.
I'm back from America now - I had intended to be up early every morning and type away musing on the oddities of US living while sipping a mug '0' Joe, but before I knew it xmas was done and I was on a plane back to Heathrow. Oh well, it's the thought that counts. Christmas was a quiet affair - Me Debbie and my parents. We ate, drank a little, exchanged gifts (watched were popular this year) and went to the cinema. It seems to have become a tradition of my parents to go to the movies on Christmas day now - they claim it's because there's nothing but it's a Wonderful Life on TV, which I don't think is a bad thing at all, in fact the first year I visited them in 2001 we went to the glorious Byrd cinema in Cary street, Richmond and watched it's a wonderful life on the big screen with pre-show carol accompaniment from 'The Mighty Wurlitzer'! Amazing stuff. This year we watched Sweeny Todd at a muliplex - not quite the same ambience, but I thoughraly enjoyed it none the less. My Mum was convinced until she could see Johnny Depp's pasty pallour on screen that we must be in the wrong screen because there were too many young people in there. "Don't they know what it's about? Do they realise it's a musical?" I tried to explain that the yoof are loving musicals right now and it's a Tim Burton / Johnny Depp extravaganza so anyone with a pule will wasnt to see this film on opening weekend over Christmas when there's nothing on TV, but it fell on deaf ears. My mum did enjoy it too thankfully.

Back in the USSA

After 21 not so long months I find myself back in the Not-so-United-States (which can’t even make their own laws anymore without the feds busting asses) of-Dissary. Oh I mean America.

I don’t mean to sound so jaded, but it’s barely 7.30 in the morning and I can’t sleep due to jetlag. Yesterday when I really could have just slept into the late morning, both Debbie and I were made to get up and help my parents do the annual leaf clearing mission. Yes they’re my parents and yes it was good to get some exercise and take in some crisp air, and yes we did all feel a great sense of achievement in a battle of man against nature - but for the love of god, I had been up for 24 hours the day before traveling AND this is meant to be a holiday. I don’t really mind though, and we did get to go out for Mexican dinner in the evening (even if I felt the ‘authentic’ enchilada panchita was not a patch on my own anglo version - far too greasy and not enough fresh Cilantro (see I’m in America now). Ok I’m tired grumpy and a snob. but at least I know it.

Folicles Nonicles

Well it finally feels like the shock of the new is wearing off. No, I'm not talking about Contemporary art's 20th Century rebellion against the bourgeois, I'm talking about my new haircut.
For those of you that don't know, I got a haircut last week. No great shakes I hear you cry, but all weekend, if I wasn't getting blanked, I was making ladies cry and being shunned by hippies. In the middle of last week, I had got so fed up with my overly long unmanageable head of hair I decided I'd stop off at the first barbers I walked to. Normaly I'd go to my wunderbar hair-dresser Lisa (in fact she's the only person I'd normally let near my locks), but she's on a four month work placement in Turkey, so no can do.

I felt I wanted a smart, but still Vagabond cut, in fact I've been trying to get a trim in the style of Robert Altman in the Long Goodbye and I've long dreamt about walking into a real man's barber saying 'like Bob Altman in the Long Goodbye please - the Barber knowing exactly what I mean because it's one of his favourites and we both wax lyrical about being detectives, cats and good film endings.
Last Thursday was not to be that day.
I popped into said 'first baber I come to' and pointed at my unruly mess of hair. The young Turk looked afraid (I don't actually know if he was from Turkey, but due to the reputation of Turkish Barbers he'll be Turkish just to give the story a spin). I sat in the chair. Between my morning brain and his lack of English, we both agreed that just a trim, or 'middle size' was the order of the occasion. However, his tentativeness and confused look led me to say 'it's okay - you can make it shorter'..... He grabbed a handful and sliced like a butcher slicing the arse off a cow
. I let go and resigned myself it'd be short. Ten minutes and a sweet black tea later I was done. my out of control mop was an inch thick and forced combed back all over with an extra long bit at the front. Officially the worst cut I've ever had, the saving grace being it only cost 7 pounds Sterling.
Needless to say I went home and got the clippers out.
(Thanks to Anna for the artistic representation)
So Now I'm rocking a grade 4 all over and it feels good. I haven't had it this short for about 10 years, which means most of my friends now have never seen me without curls, including Debbie my girlfriend. shaving one's head feels like going incognito, in disguise - there's no pretensions with a shaved head, people can't make a snap judgment about character when there's no style to pin point. I also think Mord my cat like me more now too.

needles

I had my first ever acupuncture session yesterday, quite by accident (and no this isn't a euphemism for anything hypodermic). I've been having a problem with styes and odd lumps on my eyelids that have come and gone for well over a year now, and the last wonderfully disfiguring bunch have been with me for nearly three months now. My GP has put me on courses of antibiotics, eyesdrops and stuck me on a waiting list to see a ophthalmologist, an appointment that I will recieve notice about in the post. One day. Maybe.
After a chance meeting with a friend who mentioned that chinese medicine is good with styes I stopped to pick up a leaflet outside of my local oriental herb establishment yesterday and was unwittingly invited in, handed over my details and within 10 minutes I was in a dark room, half naked and with a dozen long needles in my extremities. Apparently I have bad heat energy that is getting trapped in my eyes. Combined with bad circulation, slightly low blood pressure, staring at the computer all day every day and probably some general ju-ju as you get a setting perfect for lumpy eyelids.
After falling asleep, waking up, removing needles and receiving a massage I was fleeced for lots of money in the aid of a complete course of remidies and walked away with a large plastic bag full of herbs which I am to boil down and knock back twice a day. They are brewing away now and have filled my house with a pungent bitter aroma that reminds me of experiments I performed with 'Yuba Gold' legal highs of my youth - thrying to steep an intoxicating tea which invariably tasted gaggingly foul.
I think this might well taste much worse.

better than crack

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! It's that first sip of 'espress' froth from the top of my milky-yet-atomic strength steaming mug of coffee in the morning. I don't care if it's an addiction, it's damn fine.

That is all.

offline

So this is what life was like before the 90's?
This week I have been without the internet. okay, that's bit of a lie - I'm writing this live and direct on the interweb it is true. What I mean to say is my home broadband has been offline all week, and it looks like it won't be resolved until the weekend at least. At first I assumed I was to be left redundant in so far as getting any work done.

How foolish - After the initial shock I realised I could quite easily just pop round the corner to one of my favourite coffeeshops, and do all my emailing there. I have been making a website this week too, which one would think would be nigh on impossible, but no - it just means I have to get as much ready as I can at home and ferry the files on my (t)rusty old powerbook for some wirelss-coffeeshop-ftp-action! I have found that I'm managing my time a little batter as I have no distraction to scan digg, flickr or check my email every 5 minutes as usually happens.
I now get locked down, do what I have to do and pop to shot in the dark in the afternoon to get my intertubes fix. Saying that, I now find myself leaving and half way up the road remembering what it was I went to do and who I was meant to email!
Now, if you'll excuse me - I must get back to my studio and do some work :D

hot meat

This Summer has been very on and off - for a week or so in May (was it?) the UK enjoyed a week or so of glorious sunshine, and since then it's been grey or rainy or cold or hailing or a mixture of these changes throughout the day. Yes, it's been like this all over the world this year - all shook up, but hey that's the unpredictable fun that is Global Warming™.

Yesterday, Debbie and I finally got round to inviting folk round , cleaning up the rusty bucket-on-wheels on the garden and having the first BBQ in out new house. It was a small, intimate affair - mostly due to only deciding upon it at the last minute as I was meant to be playing with my man band in Camarthen, but had to pull out of the festival due to our times being changed about so we couldn't realistically make it. We are however playing at the Buffalo bar in Cardiff on Monday evening and we will make the day of anyone that turns up with a glorious feast of sound to fill the emptiest of souls. yeah.

I'm not sure what I was going to say about the BBQ other than it was fine. I ate a tasty burger and then fired up my new Shisha pipe with some fresh apple tobacco....mmmmmmm smooth. Everyone did leave quite early though due to hangovers from the previous day, so I still ended up getting an early night, which was something of a disappointment after my visions of inebriated philosophizing waxing lyrical well into the wee hours with close friends. aaaah well - another time maybe.

Done to your hair

Well, I'm into my second week of full-time freelancing, and while it's had it's fair share of downs as well as ups, it has been great. Still trying to build up a portfolio of good habits, my 'getting up at 6.30am' only really lasted Monday and Tuesday of last week but were then scuppered by a vicious 24-hour period of work when I went to bed as my 6.30 alarm clock went off on Wednesday morning. It's been 7.30-8 ever since.

Resisting the temptation to do a bit of shopping or meet for a coffee is hard too, as I always underestimate the chunks of working time it actually takes out of the day. Saying that, a half an hour chat somewhere removed or a stroll to clear the mind can also do wonders for a bit of extra gusto or to dislodge a glob of stuck ideas.

However, being able to be master of my time in the day is great, and having a full week in which projects (or a number ofdifferent jobs) can be planned out and tackled head on, without hoping to rely on evenings, weekends and time when I fell I'm meant to be taking time out, or at least reading up and researching ideas, not slaving away in front of the screen.

Slaving in front of the computer screen has left me a little worse for wear of late - for about a year now, I have noticed that too many late nights clickety clicking away staring at pixels leaves me with sty's in my eyelids. These have varied in severity and frequency, but do seem to be linked to my being run down. My week away in Egypt seemed to confirm this as while lazing by the poolside and snorkling with tropical fish were my only responsibilities for seven days, my eyes were better than new. As soon as I started back to work however, I earned two lumps on my left eyelid that have now become permanent fixtures. My all-nighter on Tuesday has also left me scarred. I thought I was developing the inevitable little sty on the Thursday, which has now got infected somehow and my lid is puffed up all red and sore. I'm on antibiotics.

This on it's own wouldn't be so bad, but why on earth is it when I turn on radio6 I seem to catch the new Manic Street Preachers song? what deal have 6music done with the devil for chris'sakes? with the chorus so passionately asking "baby what have you done with your hair?" and a guitar solo that sounds like a pastiche of Mike Oldfield's Tubular bells during the part when after going through the instruments being synthesised gets to 'ELECTRIC GUITAR!". If this was meant to be a big glam joke song, nodding to Queen and Tubular Bells I think it might have a place in my heart, but I fear it's a piece of shit poo'd out by a sorry bunch of middle age 'rockers' after a late night out on three pints of S.A.Gold. They were a fun band to throw yourself about to fifteen years ago. Time Gentlemen!

Aha! and back to computer screens - the new iMac . It's nice and yes, of course I'd like one, but what I've been thinking is - I have a G5 imac which is my main workhorse now, and it does a good job, I do find some things lagging behind and when I can I will no doubt upgrade. I don't want to throw the computer away, and yes I'll probably hand it onto my girlfriend, or someone in the family, or just keep it as an interent/business machine, but what I'd really like would be to be able to link it to a new iMac and not only use it as a second moniter, but also use the hard drive space, RAM and maybe even kick in the processor to share the work load. Essentialy the iMac range of computers as a modular system fitting together as you wish. Buying a new iMac could be an upgrade to a system, not a whole new stand-alone machine.

It is this lack of being able to re-use the monitor for instance which is what will probably lead me to buy a tower when I am next in the market for a desktop (which won't be for a few years yet - I'm more likely to get a laptop). But damn! it's true those new machines sure are purty. Now all I have to do is wait for new ipods (that I will be getting. The sucker that I am).

Clawing and Biting

Egads! it's been well over a month since my last posting here, and I guess a fair amount has been happening in my life and the world generally (the crazy flood weather, I went to Egypt for a holiday, my friends are all still getting married left right and centre, and Mord the cat still keeps puking up at 5 in the morning every few days). I still concede that there are still not enough hours in the days though - this factor plays quite a role in the reasons why I haven't been bloggin' my mind recently. Of course, poor time management probably plays a bigger role in this failure along with my inevitable oncoming psychosis.

I must confess - the last month is now a blur of thoughts which frustrates me somewhat seeing as when I've been having the odd epiphany here and there , I've been aching to write it down here, but due to the afore-mentioned issues it falls to the wayside - I'm bound to have some time over the weekend I foolishly think, or on the sofa of an evening or indeed get into the routine I long for - getting up with the birds and preparing the day before it begins. This is where I am now I'm pleased to say.

Today I begin my full-time freelance life working from home. I've just finished a 3 month placement at RoughCollie working on an exciting cartoon project and really getting a feel for the studio life and managing workflow (read dedication and putting the hours in). Unfortunately they don't really have room for one more so I've taken this current juncture to do what I've wanted to do for a while - give freelancing a go on a full-time scale. I've been working freelance for about 5 years now, but always along aside a part-time job and doing my projects on two week days and evenings and weekends which always left me unsatisfied - it meant I couldn't really knuckle down to a job in those few days around my day job and I had no time to progress any of my more personal projects.
I'm hoping I'll be able to treat this phase in a more business-like manner, working an essentially 9-6 job (not including the odd inevitable late night) and actually be able to get on top of those projects that while might not be well paid just need to be done, and Cleaning that slate will be so satisfying, and I know that if this doesn't quite work out in a few months I'll be back buried in job pages. This means I'm going to have to work to get the work coming in regularly and have my finances tip-top (shudder). This is where I long for the ability to bring another person on board to help - an ideal set-up would be like sweet or build where one of us does 'the business' and the other 'does design'. I know that these particular examples are a million miles higher than my current league, but what's the harm in dreaming? For now it's me and the cat. As long as he doesn't try and make the coffee It'll be okay.

salad days

I don't know what it is with the Autumn, but there's something in the air that means an astonishing number of Birthdays in May and June, I guess it's the realisation of the cold winter months approaching that makes folk need to cuddle more? I'm not complaining, but so many people I know have birthdays this time of year, it's hard to keep tabs on it all. Anyway - Happy Birthday if you're a Summer Flower (or something).

I traveled down to Devon a few days ago to see an old friend I hadn't seen for well over five years (I had been invited to her Birthday), and it was great to get out of the city and into the country for an evening - some quality peaceful downtime. Anyway, since I last saw here, she's had two children - lovely boys, full of beans and she's doing very well with them. However, it seemed so many other parents of my age came out of the woodwork that weekend and there were children everywhere. Now, I'm well aware that I'm 'of that age', but there's nothing like a field full of little 'uns to bring it home. Talking of bringing it home, I visited some other friends down the road that brought home their new baby a couple of weeks ago. I had thought that the switch between reckless, wide-eyed person and responsible 'grown up' adult was having a baby. I still think it's true, but I'm beginning to wonder if that's all such a bad thing, after all we've all got to take total responsibility for ourselves at some point and nothing makes you do that quite like producing some offspring. Maybe the Summer is making me broody.

If it's not babies, loads of my friends have got engaged or have agreed on dates to tie the knot! I think it's great, and indeed I get a bit misty eyed thinking of all the love in the world, wonder what it'd be like to have my own big celebration with a big cake, big drinks and big dresses (ahem), but that's not the point - again it's a wake up call that I'm not getting any younger and that it's the norm now be going to friend's weddings, having babies and finding oneself with a mortgage. Of course, it's no great surprise, I just thought all these things would never happen to me, and now I've arrived, it's not at all as horrific as imagined. It might actually be great fun.

don't fade away

It's sad that in order for everyone to meet up in solidarity, warmth and a common bond, to catch up with long lost relatives, friends you haven't seen for decades (or in fact an excuse for a good old chin wag with good friends that live round the corner, but you never normally manage to find the time), something tragic has to happen.
It seems there's nothing quite like a wake to bring people together. To drown sorrows like they've never been drowned before, to intoxicate beyond grief into a renewed optimism and gusto for life. Monday I attended a memorial service and wake for someone who I wouldn't necessarily consider a close friend, but he was an acquaintance and a member of a wider circle of friends, and I know how much he meant to so many people I would call good friends. There was never any animosity between us, I just think we didn't ever hit it off only because we never got past pleasantries when seeing each other out and about. Friendly hellos, and nothing more. I'd always think "Damn I'd really love to get an opportunity to sit down and chew the fat with that man" as everyone only had good things to say about him, but in this case I think our mutual level of weariness-cum-shyness got in the way of that ever happening.
Having been aware of his artwork and skills since moving to Cardiff, I respected what he did and after all - we were in the same business, so often his graphics and ideas would spur me on and push me a little more.
He had a magnificent send-off and the days proceedings were certainly a celebration of all the things he did by the people he touched, with some truly passionate speeches by his loved ones who have been so strong. I know it's the cheesiest thing to say, but all this has really hit it home hard that you only know what you've got when it's gone. I'm learning to appreciate my friends and every waking moment I'm blessed with more than ever. I'll be watching myself from now on and fighting not to give into apathy when invited to go out, to grab new opportunities by the scruff of the neck when they arise and stop thinking 'there'll be other opportunities', because there might not well be another day ahead. It's this life that's for living, in the now.

life and loss

As I was leaving Allen's Bakery this morning (Allen's is a glorious place hidden in an alley way in darkest Roath, Cardiff with an old Victorian oven and fresh organic breads, ciabatta and pastries.yum) I was stopped by an elderly gentleman, in his 80's. I've seen him getting a morning pastie from there before, but today he stopped me and asked me what I thought the nature of reality is. A bit dumbstruck, I answered in a nonchalant way that there is no reality, only our perception of it. Luckily, he seemed pleasantly surprised by this answer and launched into his views on how this life and that to love are the only reality. That the creator of the universe creates with only love and as humans we need to understand this concept or we will never progress to a new reality, but instead be stuck in a perpetual loop, not getting anywhere. I told him I agreed and his eyes lit up - He referred to governments as the controllers, and that it upsets him greatly that in his late years, nobody ever seems to learn from history, and if anyone questions - then they will be silenced. His Afro-Carribean accent and deep rumbling cadence assured me that he spoke from experience and held a refined wisdom. Then he thanked me for listening and got into his 1970's Mercedes Benz, and I walked home.

It's moments like these that feel almost so unreal you know they must be real. It seemed timely to talk like this - only last night I was thinking about the terrible loss of Jon Clee, a popular face around Cardiff, and part of the foundation of the music and design scene here. His work has adorned album covers and club posters since I moved here over 8 years ago, and I know many people who were so close to him, and loved him dearly. The reality of how his passing has affected so many people dear to me, and the wake up call everybody seems to have had from it moved me to uncontrolled sobbing last night, the first release I've had all week, and been needing to have since I heard the news. Although I didn't know him that well (he was someone I'd been introduced to, and we'd exchange pleasantries when out and about) his death seems to have really shuck me deep down. It's made me look at my life and friends and my attitude to living and made clear that it's so important to live each day like it's your last and to love your friends and family so wholeheartedly because when all is said and done they are all you have in this world (and they will be the ones to shape your memory when you leave this reality).

werking and Conning

Again I feel I need to begin this entry by aplogising for not updating my blog enough - crazy really because I doubt anybody reads it ever - but to just make sure they don't I've added the google analytics thingy to it.
the last few weeks have been a bit of a whirlwind really - started a work placement at rouchcollie a few weeks ago to hrelp out on projects in any way I can with my limited skills and with any luck get to tr my hand at After Effects and Cinema 4D on real projects and for it to give me enough momentum to carry it on! along aside that I had been finishing off a few freelance project - not least doing some marketing materials for the moviemogulfund which is begining to take off - and is in Cannes all next week. I'm not going unfortunately, maybe next year eh? I've also been working on graphics and brochure for the Hay fringe festival, a community run festival that runs along aside the main hay literary festival in Hay-on-Wye funnily enough. It's been a last minute rush on both of these projects meaning 15 hour days and late late nights (it's been a shock to my pussy-footin' system ), despite me promising myself and my long suffering girlfriend that I wouldn't leave it until the last minute. Pah! where would the fun be then?

A couple of weeks ago I went to see Bobby Conn play in town! I love the chap - it's the pompus-glam orchestration mixed with end-days paranoia that makes it for me. I took my good friend Jon along for the ride and he loved it to bits. It began a little awkwardly: the place was half empty (half full) and when the band came on, Bobby looked a bit 'oh great - nobody here, what the hell' and they raced through nearly the whole of the new album with no chit-chat as if in dire desperation to kill this gig asap. However, after the forced encore they cam back on with a hell of a lot more gusto about them, maybe the first half had made them sad because the front-mans wife was looking after their newborn, rathe than playing rock-violin in South Wales. whatever it was it was banished and the second half was blinding! And yes - I got my photo taken with the chap. he does look a tad terrified, and I do look rather gormless, but that's rock and roll. Isn't it?

Homey-oh! Path

This time last week I was pretty much caffeine free and in the throes of a psychological and emotional purging. One may have enhanced the other, I'm not too sure, all I know is that I'm back with the drug I love (caffeine, although not to extent I was) and I'm still feeling the effects of my sea-change last week.
What gave me a second wind came in the form of three tiny tiny pills based around compounds extracted from plants and had some truly mind-manifesting effects. What's more it was 100% legal!
I had tried homeopathy many moons ago when I was about 10 to try and cure my asthma. it seemed to me then to be relatively orthodox - I was tested for allergies, my diet was watched and I was given a huge course of pills to take over months. The experiment was stopped short however when my school doctor caught wind of this and threw my precious stash away saying this isn't how we do things in this day and age'. since then my 'remedies' have consisted of the occasional dose of rescue remedy dropped onto the tongue when feeling peaky.

A few weeks ago I went to see my homeopathy doctor and had an hour long chat about what ails me. There's nothing properly wrong - I've jut finished an intensive course fuelled by late nights and Debbie felt I might need some direction and de-stressing, so she packed me off for a consultation. It felt more like a counseling session and I felt with a slight weight off my shoulders. A few weeks later my package arrived. three small sugar pills with instructions - one at night, the following morning and at night again - a short sharp dose.

that night I had the deepest sleep I could remember, followed by me oversleeping to some very vivid dreams based where I grew up, meeting up with old friends. That day I was dazed and light headed, but suprisingly contemplative. I was also quite short tempered and not afraid to be argumentative from an unusually subjective stance. I was also breaking out in pimples.
the next day I awoke from an equally deep sleep to the sound of the cats fighting, and went back to sleep to some vivid cat dreams, in an almost feverish state over and over again in my head. I eventually dragged myself out of bed feeling more calm and collected than I had in along time - then I began to cry uncontrollably - not happy or sad, just an outpouring of raw emotion. all very odd.

Since this episode I have been feeling a lot more focused and able to see things from a wider perspective, I'm also a lot more opinionated, and know what I want, which can only be good considering how numb to my own opinions I had become.

All very psychedelic, and not at all what I was expecting. People usually see homeopathy as a rather benign medicine, and I had always considered it to be more physical - meaning for ailments of the body. I had never thought it to be quite so mind altering.
Either that or my homeopathy doctor is a which!

cafeeeeeeeeeeeeeine

Well, maybe my last post was a tad reactionary and off the cuff, but I had given drinking coffee this week in a vain attempt to quit caffeine, but ended up drinking loads of tea for the first few days, but today all I've had so far is a couple of cups of DECAFFEINATED coffee. I never thought I'd stoop so low as to have to start drinking decaf, but desperation has got the better of me. It tastes good, and I think it might be fooling my brain into submission (you'd have though caffeine was crack the way I've been climbing the walls the past few days).

So, it's Easter weekend! hopefully I can celebrate the coming of Spring with some fertility rites (you don't honestly believe Easter originated due to biblical stories do you)? it's a big spring festival all about reproducing (the eggs) and Female fertility (Estre - Estrogen - Easter). so bring on the chocolate bunny - I needs feeding!

Sprung

Well well well, I've finished my 6 month post-grad-dip at dimension 10, and now I've got a few freelance projects bubbling away for the next month which is rather exciting. I'm meeting someone tonight to hopefully get placed on a work attachment with their company and learn my mystical ways of the motion graphics ninja! So, Spring is springing and Debbie (my girlfriend) and I have a cat called Mord, we've bought a house (soon to be redecorated) and things are generally good. Things would no doubt be better if there was actually 36 hours in the day and not 24, but hey - whach'ya gonna do?

A few things have been getting my goat this week. First off the marines who got lost and ended up getting caught by Iran. Yes, I'm sure Iran could have said 'oh dear, looks like you drifted a few meters, go on your way now' and we would have had done with it, but what would America or the UK have done? 'It's Guantanamo for you kids - hope you like sleep deprivation, torture and no right to trial!'Everyone keeps harping on about how terrible it is their being so poorly treated and humiliated. The TV clips show them having a smoke, eating dinner together and being allowed to tell the world they haven't been locked in a concrete cell without toilet access or stripped naked and had the dogs unleashed on them. Poor souls. They joined the army for a bit of excitement, some focus in their lives and to see foreign lands - what's the problem?

Another thing is this. A few (well maybe ten) years ago the independent on Sunday ran a long long campaign to try and get Cannabis legalised, with many high profile celebrities and politicians pushing the cause. This was great news for pot-heads across the land, finally the debate had begun and was being delt with seriously and with some dignity. a few years later, I think it was 98, or 99 a huge rally in London show in numbers the smokers view on the matter and in 2003 Cannabis was downgradded from class B to C, making a barely recognisable offense. "Huzzah" shout the UK's dope-fiends as the rest of the world also seems to be slowly shifting their Dope laws (surprisingly enough most rapidly in America it seems). Now a couple of weeks ago the Independent on Sunday issued an apology on their weed views and have decided to U-turn, claiming that the weed smoked today is up to 25 - 30 times stronger than it was only a decade ago! Who makes up this shit? I remember reading the original pro pot paper at a time when I was just discovering the demon weed after a stop over in Amsterdam and tried some original 'Skunk #1'. It did indeed blow my mind every which way - yes it was strong, but later I discovered it's possible to get hold of weaker stuff if you want it. for a long time, hash ,or what is meant to resemble it that is sold in the UK (soapbar) was my smoking staple, until I realised it was cut and bulked up with god knows what, causing me and friends to have to stop smoking it as it had got so bad in the late Ninties, it felt like we were being spiked with nasty, tranquilisers and psychosis inducing chemicals - it was dirty stuff. We started smoking weed - the purer and stronger the better. The 'indy' claims that kids have no choice but to smoke the super-strong skunk (and when will newspapers realise that skunk is only a particular hybrid, not a general class of drug?) They only don't have a choice because the fact that it is illegal means there can be no choice, no quality control, no informed discussion or decisions!
Anyway, were was I? oh yes - the paper on Sunday April 1st - I went to buy a paper - the Observer was sports monthly, so I didn't bother, and the Independent had 'Skunk turned my son into a Monster" on the front page. It strikes me that the Independent is turning more and more into the Daily Mail each day. How is anyone going to take that sort of reactionary headline seriously except people who don't know better? Shameful!

Glaswegian kiss

Och aye! I traveled up to Glasgow last week with my friends the Panacea Society for a gig at the National Review of Live art. It was great fun - I was doing the visuals for the band and got to hang out with some lovely people including my old college chum Richard.
Glasgow seemed to be a lovely city with beautiful art Nouveau and Deco styling on the old buildings. In some ways it reminded me of some North American cities with it's huge square shop fronts and deep red brick.
I even brought back some vegetarian haggis which was delicious with potatoes and peas!

oh seven

In this coming week I'll be busy moving house and looking forward to the shiny new year that is 2007.
Going against my grain of previous years, I'm attempting to make some resolutions for the coming 12 months...

• I'm going to become vegetarian again. I've recently found myself getting greedy on the flesh front in a way that would make Buddha weep. However given my new found taste for dead animals I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stick at it.


• Get back to the analogue - emails are out and hand written letters are in as far as I'm concerned. Bin the DAB and get out the shortwave tuner, Quit Illustrator and crack open the Indian ink. Ok, so this is mostly hyperbole, but I worry about putting too much faith in bits rather than atoms.


• Remember how to breathe properly. It's all in the lower lung apparently

I could go on but I won't, my tea is getting cold...

Traaaaaaaas

A week ago I shot, cut and sent off my entry to the Radar Festival. I doubt I've a Rat asses chance in hell of getting anywhere with it, but I'd be kicking myself if I didn't at least try. Admittedly I had all Summer to make this, but the deadline got extended, I started college and forgot about it until a week before it had to be in and I got a reminder email from them. So I hired a sports-cam from the amazing boys at Widelode , and filmed me cycling about for a few hours until I almost crashed into a bewildered pedestrian and fell head over hells off my bike, riping the cable from the back of the camera -oops, my bad. So with limited footage, I spent two 7-hour nights cutting it up. I was hoping to treat the footage a bit and colour it - get it all shiny like, but just didn't have time. In a way I'm glad - I like the lo-fi feel of it, it links in well with the ruffness of the tune, and if I had spent all Summer editing it, it may have been knitted to death as my high school Art teacher would say. I hope you like it!

Rock, Paper, Saddam

Saddam Hussein: Sentenced to death for the 1982 killings of 148 Iraqi people in the town of Dujail.

G.W. Bush: President of the most powerful nation on earth after presiding over an illegal war based on lies that has killed over 650,000 Iraqi civilians.

He was a murderous, nasty and often down right crazy leader (shooting relatives over dinner because they didn't agree with him kind of nuts), but lets face it - you need one hell of an insane mofo to keep Iraq in order without it falling into tribal and civil war - look what's happening there right now I'm suprised the US didn't ask him to get back into power after the mess they've made. Before Saddam was captured, I used to have a re-occuring dream in which all the world's leaders were at a dinner party (I've no idea why I was invited), Tony, Bush and Hussain were always there, and Saddam was the life and soul of the party - well read and full of wisecracks. A lovable rogue. As the US government used to call him in the 80's.

animal emotion

I just read this article on whether or not pets and animals in general have emotions and consciousness. Is it just me or is that not absurd? not the fact that animals have awareness of themselves and others around them, but that some people find it so hard to imagine that humans might not such a separate entity after all. I think it's just something that I've always taken for granted - that animals have just as acute understanding of pain, loss, confusion, love and communication, but it's obviously not in a form that humans totally understand - it doesn't make it any less valid, it's just different. I don't see why humans have such a monopoly on being any more complex than anything else on this planet.

It kind Reminds me of an incident a few years back when a friend of mine got stopped and was asked why he was vegetarian - my friend didn't really know what to say until a barrage of 'You know animals don't have spirits, they don't understand or feel anything' only humans have souls and Jesus and can yours...'.

Humans eh? think they're god's special children with a right to selfishly command over all that we think we own. I can't wait until the shit hits the fan and everyone no matter which version of god they believe in, no matter if they're the good guys or the baddies - everything finally gets put into perspective and our insignificance in the grand scheme of things smacks humanity into a paradigm shift that turns all the blinkered minds into a delicious neuron smoothie.

Please excuse me, I've been canning the beechams powders all week. I may have become a little unhinged.

Idiots

I've been off school with a flu type thing all week, and so have rarely ventured out of the house. Yesterday, I popped to Abdul's (the corner shop by our house) to pick up some washing up liquid only to walk into a crime scene... A Policeman, Abdul, his wife and one shopper who witnessed the event - Some twat stole the charity box you see. We all watched the CCTV footage and saw the criminal distracting Abdul's wife so he could half-inch the tower of change. Idiot.

Fight

Over the weekend I travelled down to Bracknell (between Reading and Slough) to take photos of a Kickboxing Tournament called "Armageddon". I went down with the Widelode boys as they were making a DVD of the event and needed a photographer, So I donned my photographers pants and had a quick round of Streetfighter2 on my gameboy before leaving the house.
It was an interesting and fascinating day out, and I was suprised how into it I got - not necissarily the fighting, but the aesthetics of the fighters and their moves. The children fights suprise me, as did the 'Mai Tai' no holds barred full contact with elbows and knees fights. the ringside seats were litterally blood splattered by the end of the night.
I've put some pics up on my Flickr Account, and might add some more over the next few days.

me and the doctor!

Well well. For some bizzaro reason I recieved an invite to the torchwoood premiere in Cardiff Bay last night. It was quite a funny scenario with a whole host of fellow reprobates I know huddled about drinking far too much free wine and eating mini food off trays - the mini fist-sized chipolata bangers and mash was crazy like.
The actual showing of the first episode was interesting - the actors who play the 'torchwood' team were sat in the row behind me whooping and giggling like over-excited kerayzees and the GLC sat to my right (Egsy told me he had a jazz cigarette beforhand to get him in the best zone possible).

Torchwood was much better than I thought it would be - I'd seen a trailer on TV and to be honest it looked a bit too try hard and overly overtly 'set in Cardiff'. A fact which it has no shame in (and quite rightly) but the constant self refrencing and the line 'so why are you in Cardiff' and cardiff this and that all gets a bit embarressing at times, but in the excitment of watching it for the first time in the same room as David Tenant and Billie Piper I didn't mind too much, siting at home on the sofa however I might start getting shouty. there's blood, running, it's funny, there's a bit of swearing and it does look really good.

So, right now I reckon Torchwood might be worth a watch, and besides I got to meet the doctor!

10th dimension

Well my internationally renowned and top rated blog has admittedly been on the back burner for a while, but I've been busy in the real world, only to spend more time in online funnily enough.
I've just started an Interactive media post graduate course with CYFLE so I'm currently going bloggin' crazy! - I've set this up for the man band I've joined - WastonBowersandFinch and now I've got a 'working' blog to write down notes and tit bits for 'Dimension10' or 'D10' - the course I'm doing. I'm not sure why it's called Dimension10. There are 10 people doing the course - so that makes sense, and I guess it's kind of futuristic making interactive multimedia things, but I still can't see dead people or astral project - unless that's next week.

Dead Animal Round up

Well I've been in a whirlwind of change and busy-ness the last few weeks - and no bloggin action has taken place! I was going to write a blog about my worry over what forms my blog should take - should it be an emptying of my heart? A soapbox for my politcal thoughts? a day by day account of things I do? I couldn't come to any rational decision on this, so decided to make it whatever I damn well feel like when I get round to adding to it OKAY? good.

Ahem - where was I? oh yes - dead animal time!
First up is a dead dog I saw on my way to work. I had forgotten my glasses so actually thought this to be a real dog untill I got closer (it's the tongue hanging out of it's mouth that gives away it's deadness).

However I have been finding dead birds in the garden. I don't think Mr. Ruddock has caught them as if he catches something, he'll usually display it for us as a gift. Debbie and I reckon it's the newly errected mobile phone mast just beyond our garden - I'm sure I read somewhere that everytime a mobile phonecall makes a connection, that burst of electro-magnetic radiation can knock some bird's radar out, sometimes killing them. remember - everytime you pick up a call, you kill a sparrow.

KIT no KAT

Well there I was - fending off a mid-afternoon pang of choco need, so I popped down to the cornershop, and bought myself a KITKAT. I always feel a bit guilty buying them because Nestle apparently rape babies (RAPE BABIES I TELLS YA!) but they do taste good. Just that right balance between chocolate and wafer.
NOT THIS TIME! I got all Kit (the chocolate) without any KAT (the wafer). I was shocked and amused - at first anyway, I mean it's not everyday this sort of wonder happens is it? I ate the first finger, assuming all would be normal on the second, but AGAIN! it was solid chocolate. I then took a photo about half way through before finishing it off. I was going to save the last two fingers to send back to nestle, but I got hungry a bit later on and ate them too. I'll probably still send them the wrapper and an angry letter of course.

weeky

The weekend, it came and went - Ian and Heather had a birthday party on Friday night at Buffalo - it started swinging, but what with gatecrashers ahoy and muscling in DJ's with shit records, it turned a tad dull - so much so the birthday boy and lady left before anyone else.
Saturday I tried to do some work but technology got in my way. 6 hours wasted and I went to a HRH Queen Elizabeth styled tea party. Very tasty with scones, cucumber sandwiches and Pimms. Lots of Pimms.
Sunday I felt a touch broken and lacklustre. Debbie was feeling the blues and we spent the day tidying the house and doing supermarket shopping.
Meh.
My toe hurts less now though - so it's not broken, just a tad kaput.

Achy Breaky Toe

Well it is my fault. I was attempting to play Rounders bare footed last night and during the furore of the game, I slipped and felt my big toe bend down. It hurt, but brushed it off as an awkward bruise, but it didn't stop paining all last night and today I can barely walk - hobbling about all limpy.
Darn it.

The Great Outdoors

During my mid-week jaunt into town this afteroon I discovered that the open air market is closing down for three years while the city centre gets it's millions of pounds worth of makeover. It's a sad shame - it was one of those places you could get a bag of veg for few quid and made town feel that little bit more effortlessly cosmopolitan. ahh well.

If you don't know where I'm talking about it's this bit in Doctor Who

Heatwave

Yes it's hot. But at least your house and town are not being bombed.
(If they are, I apologise from the bottom of my heart)

"if the option of peace fails as a result of Israeli arrogance, then the only option remaining will be war, and God alone knows what the region would witness in a conflict that would spare no one".
King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, yesterday - Now put that in your pipe and smoke it.

I awoke this morning as I have for the past two weeks to the dulcite tones of Radio4 telling me how many lebanese civilians have been killed during the night, how much more of Beruit has been obliterated, that an ambulance has been blown up, that Koffi Anan is 'shocked'(read pissed off) that a UN post has been blown up. The one thing that comes across in all of this is that Israel just don't give a fuck. We're going to blow this place to shit and we don't care what anyone says. Even if a ceasefire deal was announced now, it gives little comfort to the Lebanese who's country has been destroyed once again by an invading Isaeli force. I find it unbeleivable that Israel and it's few allies honestly beleive they can stamp out those darn 'terrorists' through such mindless force. It sickens me to the core, and what has been going on in Palestine the past few weeks - is the water and electricity still cut off? Are Israeli tanks still roaming gaza destroying more homes?

I know I'm seeing this from a very polarised view point, but Israel have done themselves no favours this time, and I cannot see anyone except the good old US of A having any sympathy left for them after this.

Silver Jews

I went to see the Silver Jews last Saturday - I had a great time.

Debbie said it would be like this:


But it was more like this:

It was still a great gig non-the-less.

Dead mouse

First of all, welcome to my blog.

After many years of thinking of writing a blog and not doing so, bar a few 'news' pages on some of my websites, I have decided to take the plunge. I don't know if this will be a log of my daily deeds, my thoughts, doodles and photos I can't put up on Flickr because my free account has run out for the month. It may just last a few days like so many fads. Or it could folllow my exploits for a lifetime. Only stolen time and procrastination will tell.



This morning I found a dead mouse as stiff as a post in my backyard. It reminded me of a time about 6 months back when Mr. Ruddock - the cat who comes to visit left a similar gift outside the front of our house.

He came in during the evening like usual by meowing at the door until somebody let him in, but wouldn't calm down for ages - just prowling and meowing. Eventually after a good stroke and some catnip, he chilled out for the evening. When he decided to up and leave later on that evening he started freaking out again as we approached the door, and when I opened it I saw what the fuss was: a dead mouse. What struck me about the deceased rodent was how perfectly laid out it was, and positioned exactly centre between the door frame, as though it had been presented for me. I think Mr. Ruddock should be very proud of his taxidermy skills.

I perhaps unthoughtfuly threw it into the hedge at the side of the house, where it got a bit stuck in the brambles. I later wished that I had somehow kept the mouse and preserved its' skeleton, or at least the skull. I reckon Mr. Ruddock would look pretty bad ass with a rack of skulls illustrating his kill list around his little neck.