...back now

it has been a while since my last post. you can look at the dates for proof of this. no real reason why i have not posted. i just aint.

i have mostly been listening to
tom brosseau.
he is on myspace.


and my are not the same

i wrote this yesterday.
its a sort of poem, sort of...

My pain and my suffering are not the same as your suffering or your pain.
We are different people; we have different emotions, different looks, different fears and different loves.
Yet somehow we are the same.
We all breathe and live under the same sun and moon.
Every one of us appreciates beauty, however ugly it may be.
The fact that we even survive in our hostile world is enough to secure such a similarity.
We strive to find a peace, but we might search in ways that are at such poles with each other they can never match.
You may like red, and I may like blue.
You may like sun, and I may like moon.
I like rise and you like fall.
You like big and I like small.
We are all the same, and we are all completely different.


heima: a film by sigur ros

i got my copy of heima through the post today. i havent watched it yet. i really cant wait, i might watch it in a minute or two?

i got a nice limited edition version with a lovely looking book of photos from the tour.


The world and its people

me exhibition init! woooo, at last!!

The world and its people aren’t really made of wood but if they were they would probably look like this – BYRICHaRD 07

This is a piece of art made from wood.
The point of it is too look colourful and to be a bit interesting to look at.
I could give you a huge deep and meaningful explanation of representation and such, but it would all be a lie. Lets be honest, this is what most artist do. Im not most artists. I‘m not trying to say im better than them, I just don’t B.S my way through the ‘scene’.
I want people to enjoy something simply because it looks pleasing to the eye. If you want it to mean something, then wonderful, but to me it is just some coloured wood stacked on top of each other and stuck in a corner.
I had a lot of fun mixing the colours, and I found it satisfying applying the paint. I used a few nails too. See if you can spot them.


bugger (just a little joke)

I made some burgers.
Some are hearts, some are stars, one is a bird.
I also made some chips.
It was served with peas.
It was like a party in my mouth and everyone was invited.


im off.....

I have decided to become a famous poet.
Here is a poem to prove my worth -

I like to live,
An amazing lunch I had,

Its free verse, and its still in progress. Obviously I need to sand down the edges and give it bit of a buff, but I think im on to something huge.

Tomorrow I am seeing some dinosaurs and some iclandic folk.
I will be meeting Lisa in the national history museum, then we will be off to watch those icy rocking chaps


early birds get worms...

ive driven to work. its nice an early and i feel fresh like a daisy in springtime.
i have my tea (a ginger and lemon infusion) and i have my tunes (mew).
im staying at lisas house this week. my own home is being rewired this week. its an oldish house - about 40 years i think - and has the original rubber wires. my dad thinks we should change them all. i dont know, but i assume he knows what he is talking about.
good times ahead i think.

eurgh, my tea is cold already!!

David Shrigley is funny.


la poem

nightmares fill your head,
with dread,
have sweet dreams instead.

(p.s im hungry)


title goes here

last night was really good fun. thanks to all you lot who did the fun stuff.


wood and paint and fun

im building a sculpture to be displayed in the south gallery on camden road in sunny tunnt wells. its a clothes shop, but on the third floor there is some nice space.

i will be using this.....and this....
i will be using some other colours. also i wont be using that bit of wood. these are just examples.....
more details soonish.


crane bug millions and tuborg.

so the other day this crane fell on a hotel. it was the same hotel i stayed in about a week before, and it landed almost right on top of the room i was in.

also, i got stung in the eye by some bastard bug.

oh, and i have taste of millionaire shortbread in my mouth.

erm.... I'm going to wireless on Saturday. that should be good. i cant wait to see daft punk, css, and lcd soundsystem. its going to be hot stuff!!!


some text

yesterday was a very slow day at work so i started writing this. it needs a lot of work, but i thought i would put it on here anyway.
if anyone has any suggestions let me know.
dont dis it too bad.

He sat slumped in an old leather chair like an old sack of potatoes. His shoes were split at the toes, his trousers worn at the knee, his shirt stained with age.
He scratched hi whiskery chin as he woke, lifted the pork pie hat from his eyes and assessed his surroundings. He didn’t remember how he got to this barn. He didn’t know why there was a chair like this in a barn. He didn’t care, quickly he decided that there was no reason why an old leather chair shouldn’t been in such a setting. It was certainly a better sleep than previous nights.
For Months it seemed he had been sleeping rough, hopping from field to tree to doorway to hostel to barn. It was a life he was happy with, a few cons, but plenty of pros, freedom for one.
The barn was a typical sort of barn, high ceilings, dark wooden walls, straw, a small window near the roof that let the suns ray shine beautifully through the stirring dust. In fact everything about the barn was normal. Only the chair was out of place, or in place, depending on how he looked at it.
With a large sigh and an expression suggesting he had far too much time in the world, he got up. He walked a few steps, paused and turned around to get a better look at his chair. It was; ‘dark red, had those wing bits on the head rest and those sort of stud things that you see in posh offices in films’ he mused.
He hadn’t seen many films; the ones he had seen weren’t very good he thought. Mostly they seemed to have a scene where the protagonist had seen a psychiatrist and had sat on a chair with; head rest bits and leather stud things.
I fumbled through his pockets to find a cigarette. Eventually he found a half smoked fag in his left breast pocket, placed it between his lips then fumbled around some more for a light.
No success.
He carefully pushed the cigarette behind his ear and gathered his thoughts some more.
A small bird of some description landed on the frame of the high barn window. The silhouette chirped a happy tune and flew off into the distant trees.
“Time to go” he mumbled to himself, with a richter shifting grumble.
He took up his bag and stumbled out the door of the barn into brilliant morning sunlight. To his left was an old dirt track leading over a field toward some sheep and the town he came from the day before. Right it was then, he could see a road snaking its way through fields and small woodland. He set off and after only a few steps spotted a packet of matches on the floor, he picked them up and removed the cigarette from behind his ear. The match box was clammy and the matches split on the first few attempts. Through a little perseverance and mild splintering a near by wall made a perfect strike.


charity shop camera

here are the pictures i got back (finally) from my newest camera.
i got this one in a charity shop for £2 and something pence.
as much as the pictures are technically rubbish, i think they look really arty, and everyone knows arty pictures are the best ones.
i kept forgetting to wind the film on, and i didn't know how to focus.
its all rather serendipitous.