what happens on friday nights

It happened in the blink of an eye, immediately after i complained on my instagram about having no place to do horse-y things …I found a place.
I came across a non profit horse revival organisation that helps horses in need. And its in town. Crazy — cause i’ve been looking for  places like that since before i even stepped foot in Laramie. I went to a few and never heard anything back when i attempted to reach out after our original meetings. But this one i found out about yesterday morning, sent in my form a little after lunch and had set up a casual meeting at 5.30pm that afternoon.

I left work early, i figured it was owed to me as i arrived earlier than expected in the morning. Jack picked me up from work and we went home, i threw on whatever farm gear i had handy and left, lickity split.
The sun down is always beautiful on that edge of town and everything was beautiful hues of pink and soft purple. The mountains in the distance were already cuddled up to bed.
The people i met were lovely, wonderful and happy people. Folks that you like the moment you meet them. For me thats saying a lot. They treat horses with respect and don’t act like they’re some fluffy teddy bear to show around like a fairy on a string. This non profit is working its bones and doing whatever they can to help what ever horse they can. And i am honoured to be able to become even a little part of it.

Prada – the sweet arabian princess.

This afternoon i’ll be going back to get my hands dirty and trying to get into a swing. I’m a little nervous as i always am when it comes to new things, but im so excited too. I hope i can remember what i’ve learnt over the years, by law im not really a “horse person” like the others around here or anywhere. I didn’t grow up living in it. I grew up chasing it, but this is a great start in a good place. I’ll update you when i can about how it goes.

I hope you enjoy the little video i made of my first trip out there today.
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brace yourself

Im trying to brace myself. Everyone is out of the office till the rest of the week and im absolutely taling advantage of that. Ive finished my writing exercise for the day and been looking for the 100th time for a single agent i feel positive about. Just to be a wee bit ahead 0f whatever game it is that im playing. I found three that i think i might be fantastic. Whether they’ll think the same of me is the hard part. We shall see.

Now. Ive had an obligatory office donut, i chose the one with almonds, and so for the rest of the day i will be writing my novel. Until around 2.30 when i steal away to the student center and kiss with Jack Kerouac for an hour. I would rather be home watching Secret Window of course. A weird movie to inspire someone but its my favourite film and i think of it often to get myself into the spirit of writing.

Lately ive had a few issues with HR at work which is why im so overly stressed and thinnly strung, but none of that now.

Now for my sweet characters that are ready to be laid to rest from me and live on in a book.

glad i got you, ms. blue

The last few nights I’ve started really playing my guitar and my bass, how good it is for the soul to remember what you loved when you were innocent, when life hadn’t brought you down yet. I’m getting back into the musical swing and working on slap bass and slide guitar; two of my favorite techniques though I’m pretty poor at executing them myself. But who can be manically depressed with a speed pumping, heavy pick plucking bass jazzing out the bluegrass blues like some fella from a boozy band? No one. That’s who – not even me. Not even fucking me. I love playing piano and I love a good go on the guitar, but for me – the bass guitar has a place in my arms like nothing else. But, I think most musicians you talk to have a favorite. I’ll never be a master bass player, I’ll never rock it like hoppin’ flea or some backyard player with experience of hardship that can make a bass cry and bleed. I realize that, but that’s why I only play for me. Only me. Something I didn’t do when I was young.

So i’m glad i got you — Ms. Blue.
PS. I’d forgotten how dumb my bass-face is. My head bobbing about and my tongue trying to peek through my teeth in concentration.When my dad plays his head move like a weeble-wobble — so i suppose thats where i get it. How does one get a guitar expression like Johnny Depp when they play a good riff? Hahaha, i’ll never know. Who else is guilty of having a dumb expression when loving on their instrument?

valentine’s day full of broken roses ** new video **

The title might give you a wee misconception about some bad valentine’s day. That’s not the truth. I don’t much believe in the holidays, especially those that don’t give me a day off from work. ‘Cause that ain’t a damn holiday – then it’s just some sad money grabbing attempt at making people feel lonely, feel set apart and dead inside or make ’em feel like they need to prove they love that cheating bastard on the sofa. Pointless.
Every day is a gift if you got the right fish in the tank, that’s all I’m saying.

Anyway, as I said, that’s not really strictly what this post is about. I’ve strongly been considering getting rid of this blog and my other social media profiles. Not because I don’t enjoy them – I enjoy my blog and I enjoy making videos on YouTube, hell I even like Instagram on occasion. However, it starts to make everything feel pressured. Make life look good, make that angle pretty and taught and for heaven’s sake stop me looking like some old failure in a cape. I think we all become guilty of feeling like our feeds have to look a particular way, shape or form – it has to paint us as these perfect beings without a moment’s thought for broken convictions. And as someone more broken than most – I find that hard to look at, knowing how false it is. People copying one another and only doing certain things to see if their following picks up. It’s damn sad.

Truly I don’t know why I have a blog at all. I’m unfriendly, occasionally guilty of being unfeeling toward others and I’m an incredibly private person. The strange part is – that I like blogging. Why they hell do I like it, do you suppose? The free flow of words that won’t make it into books but have still been said – that’s what I like. For those of you who follow me on Instagram you’ll have noticed and read my stories. I cut the ties to the folks who follow me in hopes of follows back, the accounts that were simply there for numbers sake and so forth. I deleted the negative unreal posts from my feed. The numbers don’t matter, which i knew already, but now the constat itch is gone. Now my feed is of all those good souls sharing the important small moments of their life and being honest when times are hard, when times are sad and when that little glimmer of hope comes to them as if from nowhere. That’s what it’s for. Not all that competition bullshit.

Oh hell, it’s Valentine’s Day. So let’s move on!
Today Jack and I will be getting tattoos. We originally had no plans for Valentine’s Day — not any that were different from any other day. Have dinner together, talk about our day, laugh and comfort each other. Finish the night with Disney films, Miami vice or a good swashbuckling film about pirates and ships. However, we went to get tattoos a few weeks ago – our artist was swamped with appointments and we wanted a few adjustments to our ideas, and so she asked us if we wanted to come back on Valentine’s Day and get them done – so just like that we have plans for today.

And here is a video from our little Valentines day date!

 

how is it already sunday?

I don’t understand how it’s already Sunday. Wasn’t it Friday just two hours ago?
Though i suppose if you don’t really live for your day job , free time goes by faster than is necessary and is typically hard to come by. Due to particular circumstances my job has become incredibly busy lately — which doesn’t give me much time to work on my novel like i have been; unfortunately my mood is suffering something fierce from being stifled like that. As a creative person i have to do something artistic or meaningful everyday. It’s the whole point, and when that is taken away, even a little, i become a little bit of a nuisance. I get mad, rude and shut myself away. I would leave my job for less than that, if i didn’t thrive from the pay-check at the end of the month. I still have yet to receive a full pay-check and i’ve been working here since September/August time. How is that possible?

The good thing is that this means i have to really force myself to work on my novel at home, something that i’ve mentioned that i find pretty hard. When I’m home I’m exhausted from having to be around people all day and i just want to sit doing nothing, maybe play some bass or piano but i don’t want to bleed into my book when I’m already drained. However, thats just not how it works. If i’d worked on my book at work and at home — i’d have been finish a year ago.
And thus i’ve decided to try to focus more on my writing and my reading and in that regard i will be letting the social media disappear a little. I wont be doing anything extra. I’ll stick to writing, cooking dinner and occasionally swashbuckling with the swords in the yard when the weather is kind. On a side note I’ve started reading two books — one called the Modern cowboy and the other Below the Convergence about Antarctica expeditions.  Are you reading any books?

Although I have contacted the local theatre again. I contacted them last year about auditioning but then i ended up not being able to dedicate my evenings to them. However i contacted them again about participating in a monthly reading. They host an evening where people bring in their plays, and the actors sit about and read them for an audience — then a discussion ensures but i might sneak out the back door at that point. Something i’m commonly known for is disappearing when my job is over. I hang about to help back stage but i refuse to participate in the false pleasantries. It’s a very American thing to stand and talk to the audience outside the theatre afterwards and let them tell you who they loved you. Not that it didn’t happen in England too… people i worked with loved to hear compliments about their performance. I never needed them and i still don’t. I bleed on stage like i do in my books, so when i’m finished –  my job is done and the rest is none of my business. It would be nice to do some decent theatre in America. So far New England was a pretty terrible experience.  Crazy directors sending me emails about taking vitamin D, being unable to work with actors …  and the actors themselves having too big egos and lacking in the ability to actually….act.
Huntsville Texas was pretty damn weird too, but i hold out hope that i’ll find a place that fits me. For me acting has to be fun. No bitching or biting or back chatting each other. Life is too dang short.

Cowboy on the prarier
Sunday Vibes

Other than that — not much is happening. We’re looking into leaving and finally ended up some place back in Texas but thats a lot of work and most likely a few months off. We’re hoping to get a visit to Deadwood in before we go and seeing a few historic places when the weather clears up. We’ve toyed with the thought of moving to the US Virgin Island or the old Danish Caribbean islands like St John or St Croix, but the crime might be the damn kicker. I don’t fancy my chances in a place with gang violence. If you could move anywhere — where would you go?

I hope you’re all having a wonderful weekend, and the it takes a long while for Monday to come around.