The Owl and I

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The Owl is indeed a magnificent creature, I used to have a small trinket type one made of many little shells that had somehow made its way into my possession when I was in my first decade of life, probably from one of the seaside resorts I’d visited or maybe it was from The Isle of Wight… Well I remember how much I’d loved that novelty owl, how it had sat neatly amongst the other knick knacks on my window ledge, how I’d stared into its beaded eyes and wondered and imagined all sorts of greatness…that was until I overheard someone somewhere saying how unlucky and foreboding it was to keep anything resembling an owl indoors. Being so young and easily influenced and indeed scared of most of the big bad world I remember throwing my beautiful shell owl away and have never ever kept one in or near me since (apart from of course admiring their beauty on such occasions when they are put on ‘captive’ show for Joe public to hoot and coo over).
That is until now.
Oh how the conditioning of our young mind can stay with us a lifetime, ominously for good or evil.

For 16 days now I have been in the USA, have seen a fair bit of brooklyn, midtown manhattan, passed through washington DC, gigged in rockville, got spoiled in pennslyvania, had my feet tickled n pampered in Lititz, drank margarita’s in baltimore city, back with a bump to Lancaster and saw the arse end of the train station at philadephia to returning to south midwood. The one and only thing that has truly linked each place together, no matter where I’ve stayed or passed through is the fact that I have continously seen the symbol of ‘Owl’… In so many intriguing and intricate incarnations too, on bags, in mirrors, on barmaid’s t-shirts, as badges, logos, their feathers on hats, as cushion covers…and I have felt the need to know why I keep noticing this particular creature of mother nature.. I have kept meaning to look up its definitive role in my conscience.

Then two days ago I had what I deem to be a part breakdown of my mental state of health, it’s been a long time coming, I’ve been covering cracks and smothering smiles for a good while (pretty much during my whiskey ways I propose).. Anyway it did culminate in my ejection from lodgings and the unsurety of where I would rest my head in this big metropolis apple that I’m in…
How so it happened I have managed to end up in an attic in an amityville style looking house in a suburb of brooklyn close to its self named college, and here in this attic is a relatively small scale yet masterfully colourful and quite breathtaking library of books….

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Small part of the whole library

And I have been given the privilege of being able to make use of it to my heart’s content…

Within the first hour of settling into my new lodgings I opened my mind that was crying for help and was drawn to the paperback “destined to be the personal leadership handbook of the decade”.. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People by Stephen R.Covey. This gem of a read is already proving to be a source of sound fundamental assistance and my frazzled sense of self is having several ‘aha’ moments.. I’m learning (and re-learning) about choice and how to be aware of the build up of years of conditioning that gets you thinking that your life is ‘just how it is’ cos ‘it has always been this way’, ‘its who I am’… Life made me this way jeeeez.. But uh oh, I’m living such a lie, it’s my reactions to the stimuli presented to me that is ultimately hurting me… I’m relaying devastating notions to myself which, in turn, have, over time ruined every single relationship I’ve had and continues (on a pretty fast turnaround scale nowadays) to crumble all current relations I’m effectively not having… I’m so independent I’m no longer necessary to anyone, who needs someone who doesn’t need anybody?

Ok, so after my tears of yesterday and my realisations of today I just took the time to look up the value of the Owl…

… a magical spirit who will help one to see through the darkness, through the illusions and see a real meaning to one’s state of mind, one’s actions… The Owl wants to guide toward fulfilling self potential… Because of its nocturnal self it can attribute to death, not always literal, moreover symbolic as with a major transition in life, important changes taking place or about to happen…

There was much more insight than the small soundbite I gave above but ultimately…
I’m to pay attention to these winds of change, leave behind my old habits of a destructive nature, and to not return to situations that are no longer of a positive service to my well being…

Now is the time to bring something new into my life…

The potential is far reaching… So. I’m going to spread my wings, flap around a bit and then settle down to get on with some magical creativity in the wee dark hours of this night…..

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Doing this the whiskey way

Somebody told me once,’lay off the whiskey, it’s for losers… now the truth is I was never fond of whiskey, as a child it was my father’s choice of poison, and although he wasn’t a loser, he sure weren’t a winner either.. Many times in my memory a night of scotch would often end up like a scene from rocky…so it pretty much was to my dismay that I formed a taste for it just a relatively short space in time ago… And indeed the taste-bud development for said fermented grain mash was quite swift.. In less than 18 months I’d coiffed, sloshed and deliberated over many of the malts out there, even getting excited about pubs that had a ‘whiskey map’ and cities that had ‘whiskey stores’…

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….. To a most recent fine moment of swigging merrily on a johnny walker blue label for 40 bucks…

Thus, along the whisky way I took some knocks, experienced increased aggressive behaviour in self, done some things that had I not been ‘mashed’ in the head I would most definitely not have done, some laughable, some against my sober code of conduct.. So upon waking this morning with hip flask in my pocket (jack daniels honey for the record) to being thrown out of the Brooklyn room I’d purchased online to here and now being totally alone in NYC… I’m of the belief that there could be something in that statement about being a loser, I sure feel it…

The hip flask is still in my pocket and I know there’s a wee dram left in there….
…the question now is, does one continue to imbibe the ‘water of life?’ does one carry on the whiskey way?

Adverse anniversary

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Five hours ago I received a message… It said simply ‘happy anniversary x’ i hadn’t been in contact with the sender for more than 7 days.. The reason being for self-preservation purposes and as a precaution to more meltdown melodrama whilst trying to live through an adventure of bravery and freedom.. In simple terms: game over.  So what is an anniversary and why the necessity to dig up the road past trodden? Especially if the road ahead is not being trodden together… A date in the diary, a calendar filler, a heart wrenched moment to behold. Hand me the eraser so I can rub out the mistake, give me that piece of string so I can tie everything together that has fallen apart, let me rummage deeper into my toolkit of happiness… Aha, there’s a heart to make me remember that love is all around me. As if I need reminding. Love is particularly that elastic band, stretching me to my limit.. The past three decades of my life continually increasing the melting pot of cynicism and jadedness in the arcs and recesses of my wide open mind. Love is absolute, it is all, joy, happiness, pain, sorrow, fantasy, fancy, fucking downright evil delivery.. Every single emotion a human being produces makes up the many panes to the window of love but they’re all bound to shatter unless there is absolute understanding flowing between two souls wanting to make it in a partnership. I had forgotten that a year ago today was a moment of beautiful bonding, a weird happiness that swirled through fits of giggles and gentle caresses…I’d forgotten because I didn’t want to remember cos the basis of the union was flawed. It was fundamentally full of holes. It fired up from nothing else but alcohol, blunt packed cigarettes and rock n roll … i woke up from the hangover and smelt the Colombian coffee and since then I have been consciously in action to remove all thoughts of that time because that so-called date to remember led me along a destructive path. I experienced losses along the way, my frame of mind worsened and I changed into something I didn’t like… 365 days later I need no reminder. I’m too busy re-wiring my frazzled mind. Thus, to flip this into a positive adverse anniversary I shall now set this date as that on which I started giggling and laughing again as I put my best foot forward to once again set my life back on track.

In an Empire State of Mind

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When faced with empowerment it’s best embraced with a brave heart and an open and willing mind… Fear, I actively disassociate from for I realise it is a hindrance, a blocked mindset… This life I have will be over soon, could cease at any time so I’m packing some big empirical experiences in my spiritual suitcase and I am ensuring that my soul is fed with adventure and discovery. My vision has suddenly grown vast and an infinitely big picture has arrived and is mine to draw upon.  Miracles happen as destiny evolves… I am in an empire state of mind

Uh huh yeah….

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Uh huh, you know when

you think things are going to go one way n then quite quickly you realise that they are heading another way and the best possible scenario is that you adjust and adapt quite quickly… How’d you do that? Especially when you feel hotter than hot and your special friend ain’t available and you’ve met so many ‘insigfnificant others’ along the way that you actually experience that beautiful situation called ‘stir crazy’ and that still ain’t enough so you carry on until you find that you can’t even think about coming…. Your present moment, how good is it?

This is my rhetoric
It vacates me

A Continue reading

Becoming more Lovin’

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In an empty room, just me, my guitar and my tambourine … Waiting

But i’m not waiting for anything anymore, i’m breathing it all in, every experience, and then letting it go again

I’m here now and ready to do something good, positive and meaningful .. I want to be more lovin to people in general

But especially i’m doing this to help ease and make more bearable the tragedy that has recently gripped my family .. No, it won’t change what has happened but i want now for my cold heart to melt and be warm again

This is for you mum, the only person who has supported me in every single thing i have ever done and i turned my back on you, sorry … The song ‘more lovin’ is for you and your firstborn

This is for you dad, and all that effort and joy you invested in me when i was the apple of your eye … Thanks also for my ‘pearls’ of wisdom

This is for you middle boy, destroying your life, all i can do is hope and pray your pain subsides and you make peace before your life ends

This is for you little sis and your baby girl .. Please please always keep me in your hearts and live your dreams … As long as i live and breathe, i’ll be lovin you

White lines rule

Thought I’d wear a trilby hat cos the temperature had dipped and it’s said that 30-40% of your body heat can be lost through your head, not sure how true that is but I definitely feel warmer with headwear, especially when it’s been loaned to me by a warm hearted friend…

So I head into town in my green parka and said trilby (with personalised gold band which then happened to make me look a bit like a smooth criminal) and I hadn’t even made it into the pub before being affectionately ridiculed for looking something like the aforementioned smooth criminal… Admittedly the lager fuelled lad did do a fair mimic of the deceased Micky Jackson in my honour and i, deciding to have a bouncy night from the start, went along with it and flicked my heels and busted a couple of moves for him and his pal’s entertainment..

I click my heels and whisk into the pub, which, as always on a friday night, is booming.. I head straight for the bar and yeah i’m getting a few looks, the trilby certainly seems to draw favour, coupled with my blue n pink hair bobbing out the base of the hatline … i’m wanting a whiskey and ask the barmaid for a Glen Moray, they don’t have, so i asks for a Famous Grouse, they don’t have  that either… they hands me a list of the scotch they have so i go for johnny walker but hey, they’re all out of that … i’ll have a G&T then … so the barmaid asks which type of Gin i’d like… i think my look from beneath the rim of my hat just about gave her the answer ….

Anyway, i’m in the pub to meet an ex-band member mate so we can catch up on some lost time. All starts well but i cant help sense that i no longer feel the same way about this person, there’s too much water passed under our bridges and i’m left realising that our relationship is really teetering … Weirdly enough we move on to another pub and then one more, we have crossed words, then make up, have one last pint together, sing a karaoke song each and then my wayward airhead mind steers me out of the ale house and i jog on quickly across town, on my own.

As i turn a corner there ahead of me is a good friend, busking out in the cool night air.. ‘can i do a couple’ i hear meself asking, ‘for sure, be my guest’ says the captain and he sits off for a smoke whilst i promptly cue mad world.. Get some coins thrown in, the acoustics on lord street absolutely amazing, felt like i was a superstar as my voice carried right on up the buildings and into the sky above the city.. One more song, played ‘tick tock’ by futurejack and relished every moment, thankful to the people who put their money into the captain’s pot whilst on their friday night out.

Says my goodbyes to the captain.
Phone ringing.
Ex band member, fuming.
Texting.
I shouldn’t be getting off
Without saying goodbye.
Good goodbyes are always better left unsaid.

Moving swiftly on and i jump a bus out of town. Heading for Smithdown road, gonna meet a new friend who actually doesn’t show up but does ensure that i find my way to a wonderful little bar where the ratio of men to women has the best odds going. I know enough people in there and start having a ball. The band start playing their deep south rumba salsa swing thing and i keep on drinking…

I have a sweet spot for drummers, always have, always will i reckon.
And so, the band finish their set and the drummer is soon by my side and we’re getting on just fine, great little dancer he was too, swinging me about, making me laugh and smile. But then someone else comes in the room, someone i like a lot, a recent friend and then everything starts to change and the odds stack in my favour…

More drinking, more music, and the guys getting on the piano, striking out some grand tunes .. The atmosphere was boss..

The drummer offers me a hotel room with him for the night but my other mate, the dark haired talented lad, well i reckon he cast a spell on me, which is particularly good cos by now the drummer has lost me, as soon as he starts offering up some white line indulgence. My rule of thumb is, almost always, decline.

Suffice to say the rest of the night was brilliant and it carried on and spilt over into the next day and it carried on and t’was about 30 hours until i returned the said trilby to its rightful owner. It would easily have been on my head for another twelve hours had the talented lad not burst the spell and popped me out of my weekend bubble for ending up being just like the majority, preferring white lines to me..

My rule of thumb when it comes down to choice… almost always, decline.

So it all ended when, just about 2am when i left the bar and walked from smithdown road back to the other side of town … i freely admit i was feeling pretty flat, disappointed and let down, but i had to smile to myself and acknowledge and savour the fun i’d had, the golden hours i’d spent in between.  Sometimes just got to bite the bullet, when White Lines Rule is best to know when to quit.

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