Capitalism and honesty

Since I've spent perhaps ten years or move surveying inner landscapes of both self and occasionally others in depth, and found ways to resolve a couple of issues that could have turned out worse through research and ingenuity largely (and maybe perseverance and mistake tolerance), on and off it crosses my mind, or somebody else … Continue reading Capitalism and honesty

Gara de Nord

It's about 12 years since I arrived at Gara de Nord at 6 AM, having crossed the Danube on a night train in the spring, in a crazy scent of ... jasmine? I'm not sure, some very sweet, aromatic flower in warm, moist southern air. Probably not jasmine. I don't know what grows on these … Continue reading Gara de Nord

Guitar messing about making up chords (sound journal)

So it seems like I can mostly only write when I'm down; or very solitary. Seems like that's when I have the drive to. It seems though that there is still the possibility of talking through music, typically the more direct form of expression. This morning I decided to play around with modifying chord … Continue reading Guitar messing about making up chords (sound journal)

Guitar meditation #2 and autistic learning curves I've been trying to teach myself various musical instruments since I was a kid.  I think I tried to play guitar for the first time probably in primary school; as soon as my dad had one. There were always guitars in the house, in an era before youtube or even CD players, when my … Continue reading Guitar meditation #2 and autistic learning curves

Celan and the mother tongue

I vaguely remember reading that Paul Celan, the Jewish-German poet born in Romania and going through the Shoah, had issues writing in German after the Holocaust.  That makes more than sense. Yet, wikipedia claims he said: "There is nothing in the world for which a poet will give up writing, not even when he is a … Continue reading Celan and the mother tongue

Gifted at the ancient craft

Gifted with the ancient, long-forgotten craft We take flight We see the shadows on the other side of the mirror In a world that has lost its concept of that mirror Still, instinct is awake, and somehow, ancestral memory is reborn through spontaneous perception. . Talented at an ancient art In yet another era of … Continue reading Gifted at the ancient craft


There is no point in rushing oblivion Rushing forgetfulness. The imprint stays stuck in your heart for a while For a reason. An ember, a dried-up stick, half burnt. What's it still doing there, immobile. Seemingly useless. . I think sometimes If it's been thrown in under the right star sign It becomes a crystallisation … Continue reading Axis