22nd February 2021
I can feel a new book coming on...
: A day in the life.
10th February 2021
7 am - I have 30 seconds of pure bliss before the barrage of wandering thoughts target the gaps in my confidence. I settle down with breathing. Settled to the point of accepting those cravings. The first few hours are focused. I have purpose. The defences are slowly retreating between air cavities in my window. Calling me. Taunting me.
Midday - I have to live beyond this pixilated overseer. Posture broken dream killer.
2 pm - I have a few hours of forced concentration. The mark of shutter glare between my eyes. The luminous temptress becomes increasingly bright. Doubt and loneliness fill my mind.
4 pm - I give in. I let fragrant poison seep between my fingernails. Blurring lines of ink and fact. Deep red recognition. Red flags oblivion. Consumed and I feel used. A loud flash of black and it’s over.
5:55 pm - I employ various mechanisms to ease myself towards reality.
7 pm - Reborn. I’ve reconnected with the rational. I enjoy a calm sense of weightlessness. It’s silent. Peaceful. I can finally hear myself. I can finally start to enjoy the day.
11 pm - I don’t want to sleep. I don’t know if i’ve got the energy to do all this again.
: Between the lines of ink.
3rd February 2021
Between the lines of ink.
I’m not entirely sure where I am.
It’s dimly lit, but not dark.
Slightly comforting, but not satisfying.
The smoke glares unfiltered through my fingers.
I can see the warm light of an exit tunnel.
Unable to move through this heaviness.
I’ve lost my sense of place, I’m drifting.
Slowly fading into colourful mist.
A volatile haze.
Refracting future shades.
Reflecting all’s ok.
: Wide awake.
17th January 2021I've been traversing through old writing, it's funny how old poems evolve with new meaning without even touching them.
I tried to run away,
in hope that it would starve,
flooded by fresh water,
drowning in the stars,
but in searching for your stride,
you always hide away,
a deceptive isolation,
that never wants to play,
so I tried my hand at writing,
but i never could explain,
the endless void of pining,
the poison in my brain,
so i’ll give myself to you,
in the hope i can be saved,
but i lie in loveless dreaming,
while my head is wide awake.
: draw draw draw
15th January 2021
I’m trying to find new illustrative avenues. A hybrid of wistful melancholia with a sense of Joy.
Developing new characters beyond Blue. To tell new stories. I'm looking forward to working on some illustrative storytelling projects this year with my very talented friend Jimmy Herrity.
Here are some very early sketches...
Put on some music and draw.
: The Muse.
4th January 2021
I’m the answer to your mundane relations,
The resolve of your deepest conversations,
The weightless lift from prosaic meaning,
A lease of life that’s never depleting,
I’m the temperate nightmare that keeps you breathing,
The liberation of authentic feeling,
A creative haven that keeps you dreaming,
The answer to your endless seething,
I’m the scent of spring that never fades,
The breath of air that calls for change,
The chance at life eternally told,
Escape with me from grey to gold.
: Watch & Receive
29th December 2020
Inspired by one of my favourite poems, The Tables Turned.
Before the threads unravel undone,
we resume to faultless pattern,
our minds are left wandering free,
of all that’s yet to happen,
As i stand before the frosted seed,
reflection allures content,
I lower my gaze to fall,
beneath its shallow scent,
Rising alone this lowly tree,
asks nothing but to be,
It only lyes in harmony,
waiting for us to see.
: I hope for a clear day tomorrow.
20th December 2020
just step outside yourself for a moment,
she’s standing above the horizon,
remove yourself from your current ambition,
calling my name in a sweet tonal melody,
reveal your life is already golden,
taunting my state of disrepair,
maintain the thought that you are free,
just keep moving, one foot in front of the other,
you are free,
suppress, suppress, suppress,
beneath the hard tread,
16th December 2020
it’s poison, it’s fragrance,
it’s all things you’re made from,
it’s darkness, it’s golden,
it’s the fabric you sleep on,
it’s endless, i’m trying,
your dreaming, we’re dying,
you’re a serial deceiver,
i’m a fictitious believer.
: go go go
14th December 2020
Everything has started to speed up. Each day becoming increasingly hazy. Blurred lines mixing under the soft weight of nylon bristles. But i’m trying to remain conscious. There is no life here. Just an imitation. Within these four walls resides only ideas to compensate.
I have such craving to be nowhere. To just exist without thought of the future. To grow without longing for exposure.
Away from these four walls.
A slow pace, a steady state.
A mindful place.
12th December 2020
It’s my thing. Every day a little different.
A flow of consecutive lines and new expanses to leap. Pushing to variations on a theme of concrete.
Floating above normality and dreaming beyond uncertainty. Gliding effortlessly with charged anarchy.
A chaotic meditation, fighting irreparable mediations.
It’s a safe place.
A solitary state.
Just don’t let anyone in or it’ll become a death race. It’s my thing.
: The Cycle
11th December 2020
I’ve spent hours and hours trying to simulate nature’s forces with software programming. From Optical Flow Fields to wave simulations. I’ve implemented Verlet Integration to create models of virtual fabric. I’ve experimented with the Shader Pipeline to create a sense of silk weightlessness in the wind.
But no matter the level realism you obtain it’s always projected onto a 2d platform. It has no sense of depth, no sense of space. You can’t touch it or walk around it.
So naturally I start looking into 3d space. Perhaps using Projection Mapping onto 3d surfaces, but still arrive at dissatisfaction.
I then begin using hardware to create wave simulations. Two mechanical arms using servo motors to distort fabric into a regular cycle of motion. This feels good. I’m approaching something that makes me feel something. I add a light source and revel in the warm reflection on the chiffon fabric.
The next day I take a walk by the sea. Everything i’ve been trying to simulate is right before my eyes. I put my laptop down and just sit. Just sit and listen and feel.
Something that finally feels real.
10th December 2020
The unresolved concepts that lye within are merely fragments of imagination. I can see whatever I want. Good or bad. It’s the balance of universal perspective and submission to the human condition. Too far either way will destroy me.
I’m applying limitations to my stream of romanticisation, but it just feels too good. To suppress and starve my craving, only fuels extremes. It’s comforting to live in a world of dreaming, the only downside is that you never arrive at reality. But projecting these ideals, especially in the case of romance. Is incredibly destructive. You’ll do anything just to convince yourself happiness resides in someone else. The mathematical proof is solved using the proof of life. Deriving the equation for The Chance of Irreversible Darkness, D (%) :
D = | N . (25 - F) |
N, number of romanticised iterations
F, friendship offset (assumed that: 0 < F < 25)
: 21 key diy "piano"
9th December 2020
I’m going to start documenting my projects because I forget that I even make these things!
I was away from my piano for too long, and i missed playing the keys, so I decided to make a “piano”. 21 keys. 42 strings. I used guitar machine heads and guitar strings of random gauge. The final result was characteristic of a weird sitar-piano. Lots of improvements to be made. I ended up sampling the instrument into a VST file for further use in my production work.
I’m planning on making mark II, moving away from the concept of a piano and looking at magnet repulsion as a method of string vibration.
I like making things. From design, to concept, to fabrication. Even if it doesn't turn out exactly like you want it, it always leads to other ideas.
8th December 2020
The slightest grasp at Joy’s thread spins me beyond repair. An allure I’ve danced with every day, is finally beginning to fade. But it’s left unheard amongst sleepless nights. Consumed by ideals, I’m falling into the same dark void. Again. And again. And again.
Calm. Inhale. I’m staring blankly at the grey walls, trying to find colour within the cracks of plaster. An unfinished painting looms over my bed, mocking me as i sleep. The scratch of tires on loose gravel fills my room, i wish i could surrender to the mundanity of it all, I just need to figure out how.
Words never seem to heal. Their parameters are too narrow. Every raw emotion has to be channeled through language and i’m yet to find comfort. It just makes reality ever present in this plastic condition. I’ll surrender one day, beneath a chestnut tree, as nature surrenders herself to me.
: new material old material
7th December 2020
So much has changed in the last couple of years. But i’ve happily arrived back to the place where it all started.
Where writing songs is a delicate process and not a churning machine of industry. Where songs are beginning to mean something to me again.Really mean something.I’m starting to feel that creative release that i haven’t felt for a long time.
I’ve spent so much time in the void that i’ve depleted its resources. Always envious, always working for ‘success’, but none of it matters. None of it. I’m letting go. And in letting go i’m writing new songs, finding new perspectives and enjoying music again.
There will be no compromise.
6th December 2020
Late night ramblings from a cold night in Dieppe,
Clambering shards of ice rise above the liquid mantle, showered with mist, the soft edges still cutting the damp air. Dark figures emerge, whispers of the ocean, gliding effortlessly across silvery plains. The echoing clatter of chains masks surrounding weakness. Cold hard industrial steel.
It crosses my mind that I’m returning to a barren landscape, dry and lifeless, sociably contentious. I’d rather be surrounded by reality. The cold realisation of mortality.
5th December 2020
At dawn, I’m relatively calm. The birds sing, and the clouds render. Wind prevails under fate’s spell, but i’m trying to stay positive.
By noon, i’m restless, the parasite bores deeper into innocence. The sky is now a kind of gun-metal blue. I start seeing life in objects inanimate. I start seeing life in humanity, i start thinking you want something from me.
It’s dark, inside and out. I think i’ll go to bed now, before i fall asleep.
At dawn, I'm relatively calm.