Pembrokeshire – the advice of stones

img_0410I’m at my family home in Wales, sitting in bed drinking Whiskey Mac and contemplating the day. I have a strange relationship with this place, it was my dream home as a kid. I was brought up in London and the whole time we were about to move to Wales, it was where we belonged somehow. Every year we would visit and dream of our new home, our new life, walk round houses that were for sale and plan how mum would decorate them. It was all a dream. Then I turned 18 and went to university and finally the family moved here. All of them, my mum, Dad, brother, two sisters and nine nieces and nephews all live here now, I’m the only one that still lives in London.

Every now and then I think of moving here as well, but there is something about this place that makes me depressed and quite ill. Is it Pembrokeshire itself or just the family home? I have no idea what it is, this feeling that I don’t want to exist any more. That is how I was feeling today. Bad chemicals.

It is incredibly beautiful here in Pembrokeshire. We are by the sea, in a small village with a beautiful wood. The wood and the sea make me feel at home, but the house makes me feel alone. Desperately alone no matter who i’m With.

I walked through the woods to the sea today as i do every day when I’m here. i took Max, my mum’s great big soppy retriever dog with me. It was about 4 in the afternoon, it had been raining all day but the rain had now ceased and the sun was out. The woods were a bright almost luminous green. I have had very many seizures in these woods which gives them a strong haunted feeling.

When we get to the beach there are a couple photographing their daughter on the narrow stone bridge that crosses the river. Max is a young dog who tends to get over excited, I’m worried that he will knock the girl in the river as we pass, but he is very good and ignores them. Down on the beach I slide across slimy stones down to the sea. The sea is a grey blue creature slashing at the rocks to the chorus of seagulls. I turn to go back home but the photographer family are still on the bridge. I walk across to the river, crouch down and place my hands in the water. i want to get across the river without having to use the bridge. My fingers twist around the stones at the bottom of the clear water, only a few inches deep.

Take your shoes off, say the stones, roll up your trousers and wade across the river.

So I do. A little reluctant at first, I don’t know how sharpe the stones get, how deep the water becomes, or what malicious beasts might lurk at the bottom. But the water is cool and light on my feet and the stones slippery but smooth. The water doesn’t quite reach my knees and I’m across the river almost too quickly. Max is somewhat confused by my behaviour. I clamber on to a rock, sit and dry my feet. It makes me smile that such a simple thing can be so pleasing . I thank the stones for their good advice before returning back through the woods.

Patterns that talk of gods and then take the piss out of me for believing them

Well the Sinister Paisley theme is continuing in my life and pattern has overtaken somewhat. It is curious. It is related to the epilepsy of course. Today everything left its form and became just pattern, there was nothing but patterns twisting and turning round me, and they laughed at me and said “you think we are pattern don’t you”. I was at work and had just finished a lesson. It was very hot, the room span and I found myself crouching down on the wooden floor trying to grasp it, and the floor got up with all its twists and turns and danced round me. Luckily I was alone clearing up so no one got to see my odd dance moves.

This is a bit like one I had about a week ago where I was in the shower and the water became pattern, and the circular pattern on the shower curtain became mouths and a huge voice from elsewhere said “pattern is everything”.

For a while I was thinking this was a god talking to me, and that maybe everything is pattern, but today it was like the patterns were laughing at me for thinking this. Laughing at my pathetic notion of pattern. Laughing at my need for answers.

Yet I have a new attraction to finding patterns in things. Putting the tables away felt better because I could see the interlocking pattern within them and it felt good. It has also been much easier to keep my flat tidy recently because it feels like fitting patterns together and creating new patterns. A peculiarly satisfying experience.

I am in the process of writing a song about Sinister Paisley for the Rude Mechanicals. It is about a festival I was at once and the person I was with was telling me all about his amazing acid trips and although this interested me a lot because the experience is in some ways similar to mine, it also oddly silences me and makes me very lonely because it is not a choice, I cannot do it for fun. But hey I get to talk to the gods so can’t really complain.

Mm…I’ve got the munchies now, wonder if that’s the cannabis oil I’m experimenting with.

A linocut I’m doing.

Rich Bitch

I feel I ought to say here that when someone says ‘bitch’ to me my instant thought is of my grandad’s old black Labrador Suzy. She was a lovely dog who was my grandad’s best friend for many years. I’m not referring to her when I use the term here, but the pleasant childhood memory of her lurks.

It is coming towards the Rude Mechanicals gig and video launch – on Friday 13th July. Don’t ask me why we picked a Friday 13th, seemed like a good idea at the time. We are launching a fabulous video done by Mathew Hamilton Green for our song Paperwork.  (Farr’s Dance School in Dalston, London, UK, to anyone who can venture our way)

The only problem is we have three new songs, which is good, but my little brain can’t remember things so well anymore so I’ve decided to draw them out in pictures to help me remember. I’m also going to post them up here so you can sing along on the night if your there and the moment grabs you.

First we have a song called Money, though I thought about changing it to Rich Bitch. I wrote it after I had a dream in which I had everything I could ever want, I lived in a palace and drank cocktails and holidayed on luxury boats, but I was very miserable and nothing would cheer me up.

This is just the first verse, next one coming real soon…

richbitchstocks&sharespileofmoneymiserableme