This really did start in the kitchen though it’s not your standard food and beverage dispensary. But I’ll get to that in a bit. I’m here because I felt I needed one place to park the various bits and pieces of writing I was accumulating. A couple of years ago in the wake of personal upheavals I began putting down what I came to regard mostly as lyrics though it’s clear some are more poem than lyric. But whatever they may be, if there’s anything within this blog you think you’d like to work with, or would maybe work better with music, get in touch and we can talk. Who knows where a conversation may go.
After a few months I felt safe enough to share some of what I’d been doing with one or two trusted friends. One of them asked how long I’d been doing this and I said “not long just a few months”. His reply of “aye sure, you’ve been doing this for years you just haven’t put them down before.” was right. I’d just never captured the words before I’d always just said to myself “wow, that’s a good line, I’ll write that down when I get home”. You know how that ends.
Creative writing actually began some years earlier without me realising it. In 2004 myself and my late friend Gordon Wallace started an internet radio station called “The Devil’s Kitchen Radio” (that’s cleared that up). I became the script writer for the shows we’d produce to unanimous acclaim within the whole house, not just the kitchen.
So “It Started In The Kitchen” really did. Over the coming months I’ll be publishing most of those lyrics done to date. Though there are some earlier efforts where I’d forcibly written something because I had one good line I just had to use that might stay hidden. Ego’s a terrible thing.
The Buddha said there were four kinds of people. Those who run from dark to dark, those who run from light to dark, those who run from dark to light and those who run from light to light.
From a life going from dark to dark to having the last few years running from dark to light, with scuffed hands and knees from sometimes falling, I may be getting the hang of it now.
How it began is not now how it is,
I need a quiet space,
After the noise of the day,
So I take sanctuary in the creativity,
And my soul feeds,
On sometimes dark,
Sometimes light fantasy,
But I dare like many who work,
To stay up off my knees,
To dream, perchance to suffer,
But always still to dream.
Here are things mostly lyrical also with nonsense sometimes, reviews and personal musings.
The coffees hot and always black. The words not necessarily so.