My Short Acting Career
Many many years ago, when I was about 13 I think, I was persuaded to appear in the school play. The play, and I will never forget it, was The Snow Queen. I managed to land the part of the Story Teller which, looking back, was a bit contrived but I guess was meant to be a parody of Hans Christian Anderson or similar. I played no role in the action but introduced the story and then popped in and out to explain what was going on, help the characters make key decisions and harass the audience. I can still recall part of the introduction where I was engaged in dancing a little dance while reciting a poem…. Snip, snap, snooper Pooper bazalooper Snip snap snooper It went. Did I
Read More »Conforming to Conformity
Patterns in thinking Growing up like I did Gave me food for thought A brainwashed kid? Taught to see your world The way you all did Adopting your reality from the Bottom of the pyramid And if I did break free Ah, God forbid Would you persecute me Until I am rid Of all those original thoughts? Simply splendid My mind under lock and key Forever hid.
Read More »A Barren Day and My Roots
Its one of those days when I am uninspired and don’t seem to have anything to say that I haven’t said before. No poetry, no bursts of irked energy for a good old rant and certainly no spiritually uplifting thoughts or feelings. These sorts of days happen. Perhaps its because I have done nothing but write anyway – white papers, Analyst briefing notes, articles, presentations etc. etc. I really do write for a living it seems – if you are interested in those professional writings take a look here). So…. What then? Just recently I have been feeling a bit homesick for Houston. I mean, Houston was home for 17-years and after being away almost 8-years, I do miss it from time to time. I miss the heat would you
Read More »Chat – Its Fate
One benefit of having a publisher is they do manage to get publicity you may not have been able to get yourself. In this case, the story published is honestly inaccurate and very sensationalized. The stories are loosely based on those I talked about in Inner Journeys: Explorations of the Soul (Thoth, 2006) but you know what, it has close to a 100,000 circulation and who knows…. maybe it will help sell a few books and add a few blog visits. There I am holding a copy of my novel – The Last Observer (Roundfire Books, 2013) in the lower right hand of the article. amazingly, what I was actually holding in that photo was a beer but I guess they photoshopped it…
Read More »The Visitor
It was some strange time in the morning So early it was still night and without sunlight The air was so cold and you could hear a pin drop I shivered involuntarily and tried to sleep But there it was again The deepest of sighs rattling like a death breath My blood ran cold I strained to listen hearing the loudness of total silence But there it was again A scraping rustling sound scratching along the hallway My heart palpitated At any moment now that door will begin to open At any moment now I will scream with all my lungs And there will be nothing there Nothing there at all And I will lay and pray That the morning sun rises soon illuminating my room And ensuring that my
Read More »Life’s Junk
Just over 7-years ago, I arrived in the Czech Republic with one suitcase. Later, I shipped one box to myself. It wasn’t a large box. I left a large house stuffed to the brim with stuff and do you know what, I didn’t really miss any of it. Anything I did miss turned out to have a connection to someone in my life. I did miss being able to look at certain photographs of my family, my boys, my parents, my college days. I did miss the framed picture bought for me as a gift by my Aunt in New Orleans as it reminded me of my Uncle who died too young. I missed a few items – trinkets mainly – given to me by my father and by my
Read More »Parallel Worlds, Aliens, Conspiracy and Life
Since I was knee high to a grasshopper I have wondered ‘what the hell is this all about?’ I mean this. The world, life and everything. It’s always been transparent to me that all is not what it seems. That ‘this’ really is an illusion – Maya. But what am I? Why do I exist? What’s the point? These questions often have plagued me and last night as I laid in bed I couldn’t sleep wondering yet again over these and similar questions. My problem was that I had been browsing the internet! There are all sorts of ideas out there. Not just ideas but ‘creations’ if you want where someone – probably asking the same questions I am asking – decided on making some answers. I read amongst other
Read More »Things That Went Bump in the Night
Growing up and leaving my version of Neverland, things took a turn for the worse. I guess it started around age 12 or so and maybe peaked at 17. Nights became sheer living hell at times as I lay in my bed scared to death. It started innocently enough in seeing a ghost. The man dressed as a Cavalier was sat at a desk writing, got up abruptly and walked out through my bedroom wall. My brother who I shared a room with saw him too. It went a bit pear-shaped after that though. Strange noises…. bangs, cracks, deep sighs, all unexplainable. Then footsteps. I hated the footsteps. Listening to ghostly footsteps moving closer and closer and closer…. Doors opened by themselves, things vanished inexplicably to turn up equally inexplicably
Read More »Seeking Neverland
As a young child I think I was quite innocent. Perhaps I was a tad over protected by my parents or perhaps I was just built that way. To be honest I do not know. I do know though that I had (and to some degree still do have) an imagination. My imagination was such that I drew other children in to my fantasy land and when I left it even momentarily, they stopped playing there. It was as if I were the catalyst for whatever fantasy we built. It was I that built layer upon layer of substance out of sticks, dustbins, stones and such. I would often delay having to go to the bathroom simply because I knew that on my return, the fantasy would be lost, gone,
Read More »My Dunkirk
It was 1974. Unlike many kids from Hull, I had already been abroad. My parents had driven in 1962 from Hull to St. Tropez and back in a Reliant Robin with me in tow. We still have cine film – miles and miles of french hedgerow goes flying by for much of the film as my parents marveled at their bravery of driving so far on small French roads in a three wheel car that attracted looks of disbelief from the locals. I guess they felt like they would never return and so best film as much as possible? The film also has me in it sitting in the warm blue ocean, looking at artists painting St. Tropez harbour and interfering with the locals’ game of boules…. But, I digress.
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