Perivarication and Fred Durst

Hiya. So most of you know, I had a lot of time on my hands this year. Time to meditate and learn and grow and, hopefully, change. Much of it I was in quite a lot of pain and confined to a very small space, with another human being, for 22-24 hours of the day. So…. I drew pictures. Many of the themes repeat and some of the images probably contain much less subtext than my detractors are going to ascribe to them but, meh, I like them and I want to share them with you, gentle reader. Some of the more detailed ones represent between 12 and 24 hours of solid work. I did a comic strip called “Sgt. Snitch” about all the nasty stereotypes that crop up in the corrections service staff. I will not post that here for fear of who is watching and what they could take back to others. It sucks to have to censor myself but they are pretty full on and I’ll do something with them once I figure it out, maybe “Zine-fest”. I waited until I had a handful of images and then I wrote letters on the back and sent them out. It was quite gratifying when screws would do  cell searches or whatever, they always stopped and commented on them. When you have a dozen of the black and white ones all up on the wall together the effect is really pleasing.

Please don’t read too much into the drug images, it was prison, the conversation topics in there were very very limited and, well, you are what you eat.

Enjoy.

xxxM

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Hop skittles and cannulation.

I’m sitting in the waiting room at radiology waiting for a c.t scan. I used to be really brave about stuff like this but the past year or two have knocked all the starch out of me. I’ve had one major operation and 6 or seven smaller procedures and I am not brave anymore. I dread the pain and discomfort and if they find that the tumors have returned or if they find some other reason for the pain im in, well that will mean more. That first half hour after the op was unbearably bad. I’m not brave anymore.

Dot dot dot

I just finished now. It didn’t hurt, the contrast they pump you full of is nasty but it only sucks  for a moment. I’m gonna bail and try to not worry. They are going to send the scans to my g.p.

I’ll write more later on. I guess I had nothing to worry about. When I was down south in her Majestys arsehole they took me for a colonoscopy, the big gnarly one. They were supposed to dose me up on fentanyl and, in fact, the paperwork said they did but they didn’t. The screw accompanying me said he’s had 3 and they always dose him. He’d never heard of them doing it without. I guess its the clinics way of exacting a little retribution on inmates. It was incredibly painful, I screamed once they got to the second corner.

So… I’m a bit over hospitals.

M

A few Of My Favourite Things…

 

This is a fine fine piece of music. One of my favourites.

So I got offered a “Job”. It’s not much but it’s one that uses my talents and one that grabs my imagination and tweaks my interest. The actual mahi is assembling media content but the content is, as far as I can tell, some quite complex physics and philosophical stuff. But I don’t need to grasp all of that, I just need to be able to interpret it as images, sounds and make it aesthetically pleasing. I will have to reign in some of my more artistic ideas and really just stick to the plan. It’s not going to earn me more than enough to get off welfare but it’s a start towards a better place and time. I wasn’t sure they were serious but this morning came some confirmation of things and, well, yay.

I learned a sad sad thing today. So… if you own a vehicle, but are unable to find a place to live, our welfare system deems you ineligible for assistance because you have a “Roof Over Your Head” in the shape of a vehicle… How fucken arse rendingly fuck-tardingly bollock shit ballsingly sad, mean and stupid is that? I am faced, daily, with examples of folks not able to keep their heads above the water. I came “Home” the other day to find a guy trying to scale the next door neighbours fence. He stopped when he saw me but not because he was doing anything wrong but because he needed to ask me that deep burning question that everyone in the shitty town has to ask… “Got a cigarette brother?”, second only to “Can you please spare $5/$10/$20 for petrol/baby formula/food?”.

The other day a local beggar was drunk and writhing around on the ground screaming. I know the guy from when I used to do Occupational Therapy at the studio around the corner. He’s a manipulative, selfish, sneaky bastard and there were a couple of old ladies that had stopped to try and help him and I could just see the whole con playing out before my very eyes. Now, listen man, I am not fucken claiming to be some kind of saint ok? I’m just telling you the story as I saw it playing out. From my kitchen window I can see down into the flats next door that belong to the mental health outfit. My last cellmate was living there when he was arrested for knocking over the liquor store. He told me all about it. You get a flat but they take all your income and leave you with 60 bucks a week to spend. However, your groceries, power, internet and rent are covered so it’s actually a great deal… as long as you don’t smoke, drink or do drugs. In which case its a fucked situation coz $60 does not get you far down any of those avenues. So anyway, I would be reluctant to live there simply because I want to settle down and make music and art and I think I’d quickly become a target for stealing and stuff. I hope I have a kind heart. I am generous as a rule and I try to share what I have with anyone who needs it. In that last cell I was in I had a little money coming in from people and my cellmate had none and had had none for a few years before I got there. So I’d split my groceries with him. Even now I don’t mind sharing the food I get with my flatmate, people have to share, it’s the fucken root of all the problems in this world I reckon.

Anyway. Thats whats on my mind today. I worry for Hong Kong. Look at the Uyghur or Tibet? China do not give one single fuck what the international community think about them and human rights. Hell, they don’t give one single fuck about what we think of anything… The whole western world is struggling to come to terms with climate change and the Chinese, bless them, are burning coal like some demented engineer on a steam train straight to hell. I feel for all those folks in Hong Kong because they have had a taste of democracy and capitalism and all the things we take for granted (sometimes to a fault, sometimes to our credit) anyway, the transition is going to be short, sharp and bloody. Perhaps if America were not being distracted by the political equivalent of a halfwit  malformed radiation baby, sitting in a puddle of it’s own shit, torn between picking it’s nose or picking it’s arse before eating the spoils… well, if that were not the case maybe the outrage and concern in the west for the folks of Hong Kong might have some teeth but, well, he has smaller fish to fry. Particularly in that neck of the woods.

Hey please listen to this. My friend sent it to me last night and I really love it. This young lady is the first thing in music to really thrill me in ages. Plus she’s really cool in interviews and stuff, grounded, intelligent and wise beyond her ears.

Well, thats about me for the day. I’m finding my feet again with words and the stringing together of them. Sorry it took so long. I guess I feel like theres so so much on my heart and mind that have been held back for so long that the bottle neck became a stumbling block and perhaps some of the recent posts could be deleted but, meh, so should most of the previous year. I’ll try, gentle reader, to be more engaging and less self involved, if you promise to keep reading. I am broke this week. I gave the spare money I had to someone else and it feels good to put someone else ahead of me. Ive been out of my mind, truly.

Anyway, I love ya, you know that.

xxxxm

Cantilever, Pox and Dardanelles.

Hi there kind and not at all nosey, gossipy and prying reader of mine. The stats have been pretty consistent this past year. I think many of you arrive here by accident or via my music pages. Some of you I know are friendly and some of you have told me you like my style of writing. That’s real gratifying because, despite the crazier moments, the writing is the point.

I have had a really big meltdown this weekend. I bumped into someone who wasn’t expecting to see me and their reaction hurt. The look in their eye was hateful and I spent the next hour crying. I noticed their response quickly and politely excused myself but it really hurt. Afterwards I went for a walk and it dawned on me that I’m alone and no one really cares if I feel hurt or desperate, I must walk this path alone.

What hurt was that I’d been told that this person had expressed some openness and understanding towards me. So I wasn’t expecting it from them. It showed me how hard it is going to be to show my face.

I don’t blame anyone else for this, I just sometimes forget and start to feel human. I’d had a jam that day and talked about doing some gigs but…. Fuck… What if people start hurling abuse while we play?

I feel my confidence slipping.

I feel hopeless.

I’ve got a week of medical tests ahead. I  am currently treating chronic pain with the sedative they give me for panic and anxiety. It helps this the pain but leaves me surrounded by wet concrete, struggling to function like a whole body slur. Its far from ideal but its taking a while to get appointments. It feels like I have a “stitch” in my left side. Simply having a shower or making a sandwich can be enough activity to hurt. Going for a walk is often very painful.

I know I shouldnt but I googled my diagnosis and most people who undergo the procedure I underwent last year are back to normal after 6 months. Its been over a year and  I’m in a lot of pain daily. I’m scared but I’m hopeful.

I find myself withholding really extreme thoughts, feelings or stories that might hurt or trigger Readers. In many ways I’ve grown to become more mindful, kind and deliberate. I feel like a better man on the inside. I hope its true.

Be kind to each other k?

Xxxm

 

Cut ‘es arm in ‘arf

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More therapy hours well spent. I was gonna try rotate them to suit but some of the have no right way up…. Bit like me., love x m

The Devils Bane

I’m trawling through my music. I used to, in my early thirties, like to get drunk and listen back to Schrodingers’ Cat or Jah’na or my own solo stuff. I guess in my 20s too. But I have no time for it now, I barely recognise that young man and much of it makes me cringe. Particularly the self produced stuff. However, somewhere along the way I found my feet as a producer and I fell that, despite the lack of success, the instrumental music of the last 4 or 5 years is really a body of work to be proud of. I always hoped that people would just stumble across it by accident and some of them might appreciate it and that seems to be how it is working.

I’ve had a few royalty cheques lately. They warn you a day before with an email, “you have new royalties, a payment will be made today into your account”. So, every time, I start dreaming of thousands… the last one was $1.86 and the rest this year have been similar. I made something like $20 off my songs in the past year. Better than none but still…

I’ve been watching a bit of tele. The Mandolorian, new Rick and Morty, Britannia, The Crown etc. I think I mentioned them the other day. Anyway, its been good slowly catching up on media. “Once Upon A Time In Hollywood” is fantastic. So is the final Game Of Thrones season. I have been watching the new “continents” series of David Attenborough   documentaries. They are stunningly shot, watched the Australia one yesterday and the variety and diversity of the weirdo creatures that live there are staggering. I’m kinda glad we evolved over hear without too many predators. Well, ones that didn’t arrive on boats or planes… I dunno if you know, but “Zealandia” was recognised as a continent in its own right recently. We occupy a continent that stretches way way out to sea from Gisbourne and the east coast however much of it is under water. Still, it’s the biggest and, in my humble onion, the best.

My heart is broken and I fucken broke it myself. Its a hard thing to accept. I try to just live on the surface of my thoughts and feelings, if I dip too far beneath the surface I get overwhelmed very quickly and start to have not so useful thoughts. I dunno how I managed to have the courage to go on living really, but here I am, still getting up every day and doing what is in front of me. The thing that pulled me through was the thought of having a simple life, seeing my kids and making music but none of that seems to be very easy to organise and I’m flagging, gentle reader, flagging. I saw my old friend the other day. He was kind enough to say “Oh, have you been out in Raglan?” as if he didn’t know where I’d been. It was still really cool to see him, his optimism is always infectious. It will all fall into place.

I have this support worker type deal that helps me do stuff. Walking any distance is very painful and I haven’t the money or means to use the death scooters yet so I kinda am glad for him to help. It’s all a bit overwhelming for him even though and I can see him easily faking the cheerful optimism with which he initially faced my future. Man, yesterday at MSD was trip! A lockdown! Man, what a thing! I got a seat right beside the screen that monitors the security cameras so I could see what was going on out the front. The whole crowd of workers and clients were herded into the safe room like cattle and with some degree of urgency. I don’t know why, it was scary. I kept waiting for a car to come flying through the door or a gunman to stalk through the office popping cats in peoples asses… that’s right, I said it.

The hardest thing is that I still feel like “Me” inside. I don’t look like “Me” though and the world certainly doesn’t see “Me” any more. Fucking drag man.

Anyway, I’m out, gonna watch some youtube and then get moving on towards other things. I’m hoping to see one of the kids this weekend, wish me luck.

Later, love, etc, M

Butter Pie

Hola, I trust this finds you well, happy and turpentine. Today feels a bit glum. I’m not really getting anywhere. I got ambushed yesterday and got stuck defending myself. I feel lost, I do everything in front of me but I dunno if I’m getting anywhere or not. My drums are broken, my computer is dead, my uke and mandolin have been stolen and I can’t seem to be able to find somewhere to live. I wavt to spend time with the people I love but I feel like a big fat loser and, well, I guess I’m losing hope again.

Today I was in my first “lockdown”. Are they a regular thing now? I was in a busy government office, 40 or 50 clients engaged with case workers or in the waiting room and maybe 40 or 50 workers and case workers. An alarm sounded and we were all herded into a safe room in the back as the building was ” locked down”. They wouldn’t say why but someone suggested that perhaps someone had made a threat. They handed out lollies though…. Silver linings.

Anyway. A bit overwhelming for me, maybe tomorrow will be better.

Keep cool.

Watch “The Mandolorian”

Hell, watch “The Crown” too.

Xxxm

Hands across the water…

Todays soundtrack is brought to you be Sir Paul and Wings.

I fucken love The Beatles. Their solo projects are all an important part of the Cannon too, I reckon. John Lennons raucus protest music backed up with his poignant, revealing and deeply personal confession songs. Ringo with is indomitably cheerful pop/rock. The mystic pop of George Harrison… Dearest Reader, I love those fuckers.  However, Paul and Wings seem to be what I like to listen to doing the dishes or sat here with a cuppa.

So I am still living out of a bag on a couch. I am trying to find a home but fuck it’s hard. I have, as I may have mentioned, a list of stuff I need to do and I am getting down it slowly. I got a new wardrobe yesterday to fit my new, more ample girth and stuff like razors, aftershave, deodorant, shit like that. Seems banal and kinda base but it’s the small little triumphs that Im digging lately. Like the new episodes of Rick and Morty or simply going for a walk. This morning a couple of friends and I went for a walk by the river at 6:30am. I am trying to get fitter and lose weight. It’s fucken hard because any activity renders me pretty incapacitated with pain. Yesterdays walk around town was a mammoth effort, shit.

So today I am planting tobacco seedlings and seeing my G.P. I’m hoping for a referral up to oncology and urology and an end to suffering so much everyday without treatment. It’s been a year now so a few more weeks won’t really hurt… much. I had some terrible news this week. My computer is dead, beyond repair. That means the studio can’t function until I get another Mac. Seems insurmountable from here. I have a birthday next week and no cash or even postage costs. Life is pretty frugal at the moment but it’s still better than the constant terror of jail. Trust me on that one.

I’ve had a few approaches from the shit arse “mates” I was kicking around with when all this shit started. Just mooching, alcoholic bastards who only care about themselves. I am grateful for my real friends and can safely leave those other fucks in the past.

Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all deep and personal today. Because I have limited access to the web I haven’t been able to really get stuck into any music in earnest. I will, once Im settled. I have a little mini Mac and all my back up drives so I should be, at the very least,  able to get lost in some albums and documentaries that tweak my happy bone. I still haven’t managed to reconnect with some of my family. My anxieties and panic moments are huge and I guess I am scared, to be honest. Sad but true. I am trying to push myself to do stuff that I don’t want to do. You know? I’ve been surprising myself a lot by my choices and behaviours. I was afraid that I would sink into despair and alcohol but I haven’t really, I seem to be making good choices and not crumpling under the heavy weight of it all. I simply do what I can and hope it’s enough each day to mean I inch ahead a little.

To have a home is the goal I think, it seems silly and so easy for most people but I just can’t seem to be able to arrange it. I’m not alone. Not by a long shot.

Anyway, I’m going for a little jam before the Dr so I will leave you to your business. I hope you are doing ok and are prosperous and happy and most of all, loved.

xxx M

Tegritol and soy

I am youtubing on this shitty little phone. Once or twice I got to use a laptop last week and catch up on stuff  that interests me but until I have my own space and the means to repair my computer, I’m kind of shafted. Here’s what I’m drooling over today. Be warned, the following link is not for my more sensitive readers….

It took me 15 minutes to paste this link. I might ask some of my friends if I might use a computer. Anyway. You can see why I love this clip huh? Makes me feel homesick and jubilant all at once. Its been hard to rejoin the world at such a massive disadvantage but I am getting there slowly. I hope this finds you well, gentle reader, life is far too short to live it otherwise. Hiya z, nice to hear from you and thanks. Talk to you all again soon. Xxxm

Our Daily Bread

I was asked today how I feel about the people who have been raking my back with sharpened blades. I was asked if I hate them or if I understand how evil and single mindedly hurtful they are being. I do not feel any kind of thing about it all. I made a decision somewhere along the way that I was going to make a clean break and try to be true to myself from here on in and not get to caught up in other peoples worlds. I found, over the years that my main sources of pain were around rejection, abandonment, jealousy and disharmony (or feeling unloved or misunderstood by someone I love). Those feelings have often conspired to create spaces where I simply have tried to self medicate to the point of not really feeling anything, all the time. Sometimes I had the collusion of Drs, sometimes it was just whiskey or rum or speed or whatever. Either way, it has invariably led to episodes in my life that have rendered me completely out of control. I hate that monster that comes to the fore when I’m off duty. I guess it’s ok for me to hate Him… You know? That, at least, is my business. Anyone else though? Nah.

We are getting a little group together to make music as well as coffee, tea and cheese toasties, at a church around the way. We intend to try and share our gifts with the other men and women of our age group that are in the same boats… so to speak… Mental illness, poor health, loneliness, PTSD, Depression etc… Marginalisation, I guess. Not a full on “Drop In” type thing, just a handful of hours a week of being available to pass on our gifts. Otherwise I think we could just jam and the oldies might enjoy it as they slurp tea or navigate the lands of melted cheese, caramelised onion and maybe a hint of chutney. Speaking of chutney.. Nepal huh? Go you!

What do you think? I was going to start a new radio station too but my transmitters are all in use and I don’t wanna pull anyones plug. Not just so I can have a more technological therapy. I’ve been trying to walk, it is very painful. I am a bit scared of what the Dr is going to say next week.

I guess what I am saying is that I am doing the best I can do at the present. I can’t change anyone else but I can keep working on me and hope they see it someday for what it is. I do not feel fatalistic as I did before, the death wish has gone back into hibernation and hopefully, if I don’t pester it, it will slumber for ever. I can only hope, anyway.

Hey I had a wee bit of success this year musically.

This Track…

…was added to some trance DJs set and was played a few times around the world. It comes from some of my early instrumental stuff. It’s based on a sample of Martin and Margaret discussing a baseline for a song we were rehearsing. Martin goes “Hang on, Margarets not sure” and was a nice clean voice sample between songs in a rehearsal recording. It built up from there. I played all the instruments in and I like the beat when it finally drops. It reminds me of being happy and of what it really means to have the good fortune to be able to communicate through music. I have truly missed the ability to do it and you can bet your ass as soon as my studio has a home I will be working on a few new projects. Screw-Jack IV and RUNT and some more dirty downbeat dub. It is where I am happy. I miss the kids but its something I am working towards in good faith.

I hope, wherever you are in the wild world, that you are happy, loved and kind to the others. I am trying too. Talk again soon.

xxxm

Flying the friendly spies…

I’m not very good at typing on a phone. There are not many plusses to phone typing but one is that the spelling and grammar tend to be meticulous. Today finds me sitting in the waiting room of the opiod/mental health people waiting for my stupid bladder to provide a sample of urine for them. Its a stressful thing and I find that the more I stress about it, the less I am able to… Anyway… In less embarrassing, yet no less revealing news. Here is a small selection of some of my art. I would spend hours, sometimes days, creating art and then write letters on the back. It may take me a while to track it all down but here’s a start…. They need a little Ironing and photoshopping but you get the idea. The “weed” related ones are grounded in the frustration felt by people inside, particularly ones on cannabis cultivation, sale and possession charges but also those of us that would medicate with it, that the entire debate is taking place without 8 – 10 thousand folks who would probably vote in favour of it. The best ones, in my humble onion, are the black and white Biro a4 pages. Please take the time to enlarge them and scope the details. If you have the time, that is. Or the inclination…. They took the longest and represent the most important use for this art…. the passing of time without panic. More to come. Love, m.

Killah Beez And Toughies…

Hiya. I noticed in the stats that quite a large number of folks have been lurking at this address since November 6th. Not everyone was privy to that date so I guess I know who you all are and I guess some of you don’t necessarily mean me well either. But, this blog has never been about you guys.

The people I love and that love me know my heart and they know what kind of monster I am and am not. I will not go into why I went where I went or even discuss the details, out of respect for others involved, just know that I have been away and learned much about myself. The things I did do are almost indistinguishable from the things they say I did, that people got hurt regardless, I think, is the point and for that I am sorry, guilty, all of it. I am approaching life slowly and am regularly overwhelmed by panic but I am trying to do everything right and with respect for the other people involved. I was a bit worried that I would simply drown all the tears and hurt and anger and stuff in alcohol as soon as I could but, to my surprise, I haven’t. I am really relieved to find that the changes I suspected of myself have, so far, turned out to be true. I am also approaching the people I love with caution and with respect and I am trying to take it slowly. I cry now and then and I am a little afraid of being out amongst people. I sometimes feel like they might come for me in the night and say it was a mistake and put me back. I panic at the sight of police but thats not new apart from the degree of panic and I genuinely feel overwhelmed much of the time. My heart has questions and desires but they have to just wait their turn and, meh, maybe their turn will never come. Hey if you want to borrow the car still, you can 🙂

I think thats all I want to say about that, if thats ok? So if you are lurking here for anything juicy I am afraid you will be disappointed. I plan to do a “Prison Cookery” segment, where I discuss the meals of necessity that people have discovered in austerity. I also have a LOT of Billie Eilish to go on about. She’s totally the most original thing pop music has dredged up maybe since Eminem/Marilyn Manson , maybe since Nirvana. I was struck by the music and songwriting and vocal delivery at first and I was really really hoping that the music wasn’t mass produced in a factory and do you know what? She makes it with her brother, in his bedroom and it is wonderful and clever and I really like it! She’s a lil bit angry, hopeful, sarcastic and I don’t even usually like women songwriters!

I am listening back to the “Screw-Jack III” record. It is at Bandcamp and I will post a link at the bottom. It was mixed and mastered while I was away and has gotten some critical acclaim. As I listen to it I hear my bits and Matts bits subtly merging, a symbiosis of creative energies perfectly poised against each other. It’s downtempo, ambient and definitely dub. It reminds me of all the best UK downtempo dub outfits, Massive Attack, Gorrilaz and maybe a little of The Streets and even The Happy Mondays. Matts accent obviously lends it that quality but it still holds it’s own musically and I hope you enjoy it.

This is my favourite track so far…

There were real contrasts. The bit where the Killer Bee threatened to stab me in the throat and then terrorised me all night until they let me out of the small space I was trapped inside with him. That was traumatic and the only time I felt my life threatened enough for me to arm myself. There was the screw who saw me reading an “OSHO” book Swami A. Hasyo had sent me who went ballistic over it “Of all the salacious, anticristian, depraved….” honestly the invectives flew for 30 seconds or more… that was funny. There was a time that my kidney issues and medication meant that I was unable to perform a urine test so a screw made me stand there with my privates out for all 4 or them to see for 3 hours, I was a sobbing mess by the end of it and in full panic mode. He was allowed to keep me there for 3 hours and, despite my explaining my medical problems several times, he used the whole 3 hours to, well, actually I don’t know what he thought he was doing. The hardest part is that they can see you, everything and then there are full floor to ceiling mirrors so its very invasive and I remember them standing around joking about their weekends or what was on tele as I was completely overwhelmed in a psychotic nightmare. If you DO believe I deserved to be there then surely you could count that as having paid for my crimes? I hope so anyway. I was denied followup care for the kidney issue and its not only back but the pain of movement rendered me virtually immobile for months and months and then when they found a medication that worked for the pain it pretty much wipes me out, I feel like I am made of concrete and as a result I’ve gained 30 or 35 kg. Thats 35 blocks of cheese. I do not recognise the man in the mirror… Or the other man that he ate. Surely, if you think I committed a crime, then I’ve paid for it? I hope so.

I met lots of good, kind and reliable men and I met some really sad, lost men. I met some true monsters who have been tamed by the brutality of the system and I met some monsters who were simply biding their time between atrocities. I met many broken men who should have been in care and I met men who needed to be where they are for the sake of the good and innocent people. I met an axe Murderer and made a friend of him and I met a tonne of people who simply hate other humans and take any chance to harm them, but, having said that, some of the staff were not like that.

I am finding the outside overwhelming. I am still a week away from having money and I am sleeping rough (Sofa rough, not passenger seat rough) until I can get help finding a flat or something. I have friends who do not think I am a monster, who know that I have the potential to get so far away from control and mind that I am more or less the same thing but who know that this isn’t who I am and that I can prevent that from ever occurring again. They have been really kind. I have friends who feel the opposite about me and it’s hard to see that reflected in their eyes or words or actions. I am going to the Dr next week once I can afford it. The last Dr I saw inside stared at the screen of his computer for a good 10 minutes before saying, “You need to go to your gp on the day you get out and get an oncology and urology referral, its very important that you do”, then he turned to the nurse and said “We have really let this man down”. I didn’t even bother asking why or what and, to be honest, I am not sure I want to know even now… I’ll go though, heh, at the very least it might mean fentanyl at some point.

So, I have so much on my mind and my heart that I feel overwhelmed. If you are confronted by this blog or annoyed or insulted please just refrain from reading it. Surely by now you know that its just where I riff on whats on my mind. Its not always necessarily true or accurate or even how I really feel, its just for the sake of stringing words together because, I have found, if I string enough together I usually find a joke or two.

I am looking forward to seeing my kids and I am looking forward to putting my studio back together and making tedious, low tempo, bass heavy DUB and I am taking each day as I find it. These things are worth taking my time and getting them right. I want to sit here all day and just tell nasty stories about the more shocking aspects of where I have been but I think I’ll dole them out slowly coz they really aren’t for everyone, more gentle sounds may be hurt by some of the experiences I have had and thats not what I am here to do. I love you guys. I have a ship load of art and I will gradually scan it in and upload it. I sent it all out with letters on the back so now begins the task of collating and photographing. I feel strong. I feel new. I did a lot of work on myself. I had to sit next to men who did such terrible things and I had to cop to the same culpability. Can you imagine? I doubt you can. Heres a thought to leave you with. The men I met who did the things I was accused of and convicted for were there serving 5, 6 , 7 , 8 , 9  and even double digit year sentences. I served 11 months.

I hope this is ok. I do not mean any disrespect or to try and dilute the situation, believe me I know how serious things are. I just like writing.

xxxM