Locked-down And Out In London

May 15th

After a cold, grey week of watching the wind bully the trees, we’re back to beautiful mornings. Cool in the shadows but warm in the sun. Disaster is coming. Or it isn’t. Like a fox on a country road, frozen under the full-beam of an on-coming car in an otherwise black night, I don’t know which way to turn.

Forwards or backwards?

The decision is made for me. I have to go for a (routine) blood test— this is the furthest I’ve ventured in 6 weeks. I wear brightly coloured trousers to ward off evil spirits. And in case that doesn’t work, I’ve got the Dr. Death leather jacket back on so the virus will know to back the fuck up.

I listen to Ella Fitzgerald’s Manhattan while walking through dirty London streets still creaking with the weight of a pandemic, and it feels rather smug. Billy Holiday’s more the vibe. Civilisation as we know it has been put into question, as have our individual identities, which means men in white vans demonstrate their virility by using anyone attempting to cross the road as target practice. Paying them no mind, a man with a mask cycles with no hands up the empty street. I much prefer these kind of cyclists to the mid-life Lycra set who bellow “watch out” as they scream round a blind corner twice as fast as the speed limit.

The ice cream van’s been out for about a month, and the local cemeteries have been open for a couple of weeks, presumably for anyone who wants to save themselves the trouble and just launch themselves into an early grave now.

Apparently, you can get that bored.

The ravens and rooks hobble around like boys in baggy trousers. Flame licked iris are out and pink, purple, and white rhododendrons have burst onto the scene; beyond their haze of colour twisted roots and branches loop each other like a mangrove swap. Magpies skim along the ground like stones across the water.

When I go for a run the air by the lake is filled with glowing pollen blowing off the reeds that rustle reassurances on the wind. The haze makes the scene look like the summers when everything was golden. Already the earth is dry and cracked in places like my hands.

Continuing my cottage industry, I’ve sold some black stilettos on eBay now. Maybe whoever bought them’s going to the cemetery.

I dig at a kiwi with a spoon and its seeded flesh oozes out like frog spawn. It’s not ripe yet and makes my mouth water. I ripen hard plums in a chipped white bowl in the sun. The tomato plant I grew from seed has been indoors and survived the winter; it now thrives in the sitting room and droops like a willow under its green fruit.

Nothing is ripe yet.

Nothing is ready.

It’s all too soon.

But the sun is shining and there’s weed on the wind. As the evacuated stay in their second homes, gardens run wild and buttercups stand tall, begging for chins to glow up. The dust-covered cars are on the move again. Walking home laden with shopping, I listen to Bob Dylan and make a decision to serve no one but the ones I love.

We put on Rambo for some easy watching and are surprised to discover that it’s a masterpiece. It starts with a small incident and explodes into this epic psychological breakdown. Stallone is practically silent throughout the film, and only in the last five minutes does he really talk, and when he does, it floors me. The trauma. It floors me.

“Nobody would help! No one helped! He said, I want to go home, Johnny, I wanna drive my Chevy…”

An opera shrieks from the radio while I’m in the bath. It’s von Suppé’s The Devil on Earth, and what I gather is that in von Suppe’s future everyone is eccentric, but at a party two brothers are unable to elicit either any mischief or any romance. They conclude that in the future the devil has distributed himself evenly among everyone, so is everywhere but impossible to find.

It’s been a long time coming: face masks are fashionable, and they aren’t called face masks, they’re face coverings. I see a female politician wearing a coordinated mauve outfit and mauve face “covering” and find it infinitely more terrifying than the clinical alternative. I’m all about reusing masks and making them out of whatever fabric you want but… it’s the coordination. The consideration. This is our new reality and it’s unsettling how quickly something so sinister is assimilated into fashion.

May joy be unconfined, our downstairs neighbour’s taken up the bongos. Occasionally, the bongos are accompanied by some vigorous throat singing, which when it catches you off guard can be quite alarming, but I appreciate it’s certainly more musical than just screaming into a pillow.

I’m reading Shirley Jackson’s We Have Always Lived In The Castle this week. As well as being a surprisingly enjoyable read about a poisoning, it is a book about a type of isolation that makes what many of us are experiencing seem almost communal. I suppose all stories are stories of isolation if you look at them right.


Got Time To Watch Plums Ripen In A White Chipped Bowl

Interview With William Poyer

Screen Shot 2016-04-28 at 07.11.50

William Poyer has just returned from a three-year stint in Mexico. He’s returned with a new album (and a girlfriend), two new music videos and one in the making.
At the time when we Skype-meet, I have none of these things – and am triple checking I’m recording …


I interviewed this conductor at the Royal Albert Hall and we did an hour and a half long interview and it was all incredibly complex. When we finished I realised I hadn’t been recording any of it and I was so horrified I couldn’t tell him, it still haunts me, but we’re recording so everything’s fine …

Well, I’m not as complex …

Still I wouldn’t want to blag your answers. So, you’re from Swansea originally, why Mexico? And had you planned on staying that long?

No. It was a whim leaving. I’d been living in London for 8 years, working in the film industry for some pretty intense people and doing jobs I never intended on doing. I’d always wanted to make movies but I was just helping other people make movies. Music had been on the back-burner for a long time and I just thought, ‘Right, screw it. I’m leaving.’ I had no money, bought myself a one-way ticket on my credit card. Then thought, ‘How can you travel with no money?’

Teaching English.

I knew I wanted to go to Latin America I knew I wanted to learn Spanish; and there were just a few more things about Mexico I was interested in … I just knew, culturally, it had a bit more weight – and it was cheapest place to do the English course. That’s about as much thought as went into it.

I think that’s about as much thought as needs to go in to it. I once went to Mozambique because Bob Dylan wrote a song called Mozambique. I was later informed he never went there, but, I had a nice time … Where were you in Mexico?

Went to Guadalajara and the idea was to go to end up at the beach. Then I got a girlfriend in Guadalajara and she got a job in Mexico City so we moved there -which I never had any intention of doing.

Cool place …

I thought it was going to be a monster of a city but its beautiful. Amazing pockets of wonderfulness, so we stayed there.

Having spent 3 years there how did you know it was time to come back?

I’d been wanting to come back quite a while. I always knew I would come back, initially, it was probably the sense that, I was going away to come back. With time and the development of songs every 6 months, I’d be like “Yeah, think I have an albums worth of material”, but then something would significantly change; I’d find a significant progression and the old songs just kicked away. That happened a few times, then, I knew I was ready to record something – but I didn’t know how to do it. I’m not a producer, I don’t have any rich mates, I hadn’t done a gig; I’d just locked myself in a room for 2 years to study writing, so there was no one championing me. Then someone told me about crowd funding …

How did that work?

I offered $16 to get a free album, $20 get a thank you or whatever, I think it was $500 get name tattoo, this Brazilian producer – I’ve got his named tattooed, he gave me $500.

(It’s actually a very elegant tattoo and I start wondering how much I can get people to pay me to tattoo their names on my extremities ….)

You left to hone your sound – what was your sound like before you left?

I did an E.P with a band, I’d always had this obsession with cowboy music – Americana, and country ideas and ideologies, but the E.P didn’t really feel like me. Then I went down the very soft route, with lots of finger picking like José Gonzales, but I kind of lost a bit of the identity of what I was doing before; and I just knew there was a marriage of sounds I hadn’t found yet. I just knew I wasn’t good enough. I knew I could write songs, but wasn’t where I was supposed to be.

Didn’t Find Luck – definitely has both of those elements, the guitar reminded me of early Neil Young and then you have the fun Spanish guitar at the end …

You knew it’s a funny one, that song gets the least attention out of the whole album …

I really like that one, it was my favourite.

I love it that song, it sort of came to me in a dream; which is weird because I’m always very conscious of them [the songs]. A mate had been like, “How’s Mexico influenced you?” and I was like, fuck, I don’t think it has. I think Time has influenced me but not Mexico; and I was feeling really guilty about it, thinking maybe I should have some Mexican songs. I fell asleep that night and had this dream about a Mexican guy walking through the desert. I didn’t know what he was looking for, and he was sweating and it was really intense, and it goes on for ages, probably about 20 minutes or something; and then I realised at the end, he was looking for luck; he was trying to find luck, he was trying to obtain this like, Holy Grail of luck.

Like Don Quixote, sort of …

Yeah! And I’ve been thinking about the concept of luck for a while; and had been thinking its better to be born luck than it is to be born rich, or anything really … and yeah that’s where that came from. And he never found it.

But he shouldn’t though. That’s what makes the story good. And life, frustrating.

You mention one came in a dream, but how do songs normally come to you, do you have an idea, a verse a word, a melody? Is there a pattern?

It’s always rhythm. I’ll usually have a groove on the guitar and there’ll be a change, a chord, and it’ll usually come from the rhythm.

(He starts ‘chuck chucking’ the rhythm …)

Then I’ll add a syllable to it …

(He does, it sounds like this …)

Bubudbabda BA da da ….

… So it’ll come from rhythm and syllables and then I’ll just start jotting down gibberish. And then an expression usually, something that could be poetic, a saying, will link with the syllables and the rhythm then once you’ve got that ….

You’re rolling. …

Yeah, then start writing shit for pages. I start in pencil, if I’m sure something’s good I’ll fill it in in pen and then it can be very quick.

Video for Fell the Truth was shot out in Mexico, right?

Yeah, done on two hangovers with a boy I met at Sofar Sounds in Mexico, and he was like, “You’re the Welsh Ray LaMontagne!” I was like, great, that’s nice … but I don’t think so.

Take it.

He came to a couple of gigs he was like, “I want to do something with you.” So he went and listened to the song, and he really listened to it. He came back with ‘knock down, door fell truth’ – that was his favorite line, and said, “I want to put you in front of a load of different doors.” I was told him to crack on so he put me in front of a load of different doors, down by Frida Kahlo’s house. Which is a beautiful part of the city. And yeah just tried to walk about lip-synching to my iPod in my back pocket, feeling like a bit of a plonker.

You did it well …

Yeah walking past people miming, looking very odd.

You have to remove yourself from all that. Stay true to the ‘Art’ …

Yeah it’s been very humbling many experiences, whether crowd funding and asking for help or miming in the street …

“Help me be vulnerable to the world!”

You do you just have to let go.

In the video for 2 days later, you got kidnapped and blinded by tequila. What’s your next video? Are you just doing things you want to do?

Next video The Liar The Bitches The Crooks & The Thieves – Mexican/British joint production, we’re shooting on May 5th. The same director in Mexico is out shooting scenery so mountains desert, then I think we’ll do it as a double exposure, of there, and me here. The song’s a riff I pulled back from years ago and it was a song I wrote about the day before coming to a studio, so there’s sort of a sense of way back when.

Also watched Laid Bare Live thing at The Ritzy with Gabriel …

Gabriel Moreno!

Oh my god it was amazing, I loved it so much.

My mum watched that the other day and was like “Oh Will, I love that bit at the beginning where you were doing the poem”.

It was great. Was it improvised? Had you done something like that before?

I’d done it once with him before and he just came up to me and was like, “Do a poem with me …” Which was brilliant because the first song I wanted to play was in this strange tuning, and it just really worked as an opening to the show. That riff I want to do something with. I was thinking of getting him in the studio with him reading a poem over something.

Have you done much like that before, or just those two times?

Yeah just, we’d winged it one time before; but it’s nice to just sort of follow him and see where it goes.

Yeah, I get it. I do comedy improvisation and …

…. Flying by the seat of your pants

Yeah, totally. I used to be terrible, but, the thing is, as long as you just go with it, everyone’s good.

Yeah, you’ve got to be open, and I think the more you do those things the more flexible you become …

You find your way in the moment, not sure how else to explain it. So speaking of collaborations – one who’s alive, and one who’s dead?

I’m obsessed with a band called Shovels and Rope.

Like the name …

It’s a husband and wife duo from North Carolina and they play this sort of dirty, gothic, Americana – with a slice of hillbilly on it. They are just … yeah I love them. If I could do anything with them I would love to. If I could write a song with them …

And who’s dead?

Townes Van Zant, definitely.

I hear Fell Truth was inspired by a true story you saw in the paper?

I was asked to find the article again and I cant which makes me question whether I indulged story it a little bit …. It was the first song I managed to write that wasn’t about me, which I knew was a good sign. I loved the idea of this guy who hadn’t committed murder, being framed. But at the end of the article there was a suggestion that after he was acquitted, he had actually done it.

Maybe we’ve all done it, or maybe it’s just me, where you can tell a lie, certainly as a young man making mistakes, I told plenty of lies in my early 20s, but I told them so many times …

… You almost believed them.

Yeah, they sort of became truth, real. And that’s what I was doing with this song; he was so convinced he hadn’t done it and then at the end he just kind of give the suggestion; and I love that part of the story … It’s funny, it’s not something id’ been interested in before, understanding the psyche of crazy people. But, I think I’m getting more interested.

There’s a lot in it for sure, especially if you’re a storyteller of any sort …

Not far off that point. If you had two parallel lives, I’m not saying you don’t maybe you have more. I don’t know. But for purposes of this question you have two, what would you do? You have choice, you have free reign you aren’t limited in this parallel life …

I would like to live in a Jack London novel live in Montana live simple life fat of the land, fishing, playing banjo …

But you can do that in this one … that just sounds like the future to me.

Parallel life on this planet?

No, I mean, why limit yourself to this planet? You have the choice to do anything, anywhere in space or time …

Exploration sounds wicked. To be the first person to go to a place, an untouched land. History’s like a new topic of mine I’m enjoying …

It’s the best …

I think the first time to be a settler, the gold rush is something else I’m interested in, the 49’ers, the first ones. That would be pretty wild. To be heading for something you just heard as a whisper, a story, and go, I’m going.

What did you miss UK while you were in Mexico and what do you miss Mexico now you’re back?

I’m terrible for wanting more. The grass is greener on other side. I was saying to my girlfriend, “Oh, it would be nice to spend winter in Mexico and the summer in London.” I was complaining for so long about wanting to come home and now I’m here, I’m like …

… Kind of want to go back?

Yeah! Im terrible. Dad’s the same, they’ve just moved to Spain and he’s like “Yeah, but its not Mexico” … but yeah, while I was there I missed the transport in London.

Wow. You know you’ve got it bad if you’re missing the public transport in London.

Not when you’re using it in Mexico, its hard work. That, and I missed Sunday roasts. Probably those 2 things, really good public transport and a roast

Sound sensible ….

Now I’m here, I’m missing reasonably priced restaurants; really good, delicious, fresh food; cheap beer and mescal – miss that, and the weather. And I miss a place I played called The Black Horse which was full of bunch of immigrants form all over, blues guys from New Orleans, Country form Oklahoma, a guy from Reading, me, Mexican guys; we had a really cool thing going on for a while. I miss that.

Solid things to miss. Beer and mescal sound great …

They go so good.

I’ve got in to beer and whiskey chasers …

Sounds dangerous …

Might be dangerous.

I’m getting to whiskey very slowly.

I don’t like alcohol at all but I’ve got really into whiskey ….

Haha! You don’t like alcohol but you’re drinking beer and whisky chasers …

Yeah … So, What’s next, or is this enough?



Yeah very. Next is getting good gigs, the next videos; I have two live videos going live this week, a few festivals, met a cool guy I’m doing some writing with, and back into studio, to what extent I don’t know, maybe E.P. or another album. Maybe just something we can give away for free but yeah keep on planning more …


The single Fell The Truth is out now and the album (‘Born Lucky’) was released on Laid Bare Records on the 22nd April.

He’ll celebrating the album release at Brixton East Gallery, tonight, Thursday 28th April. Go!

And in the meantime here’s his new video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lRYAef29Fc

Gigs – go out, see things, feel stuff in your ears:

Spiritual Caipirinha Bar, Camden – 16 April 2016
Laid Bare At The Ritzy, Brixton – 20 April 2016
The Pack & Carriage, Mornington Crescent – 07 May 2016
Century Club, Soho – 12 May 2016
Old Queens Head (Daytime show), Angel – 15 May 2016
Nozstock Festival, Herefordshire – 22, 23, 24 July 2016

How To Play The Game …..

I’m starting to worry about myself, more than normal; because normally it’s ..

“Why is the light so bright? Maybe I have meningitis ..”

“Why am I so hungry? Maybe I have tape worm.”

“Why is this eczema so bad? Maybe I have necrotizing faciitis.”

I’m worried because it appears (though I am sweetness and light most of the time,) I am angry at the world. If I was 16, this would make me cool, a rebel, a lone wolf if you will. I’m 24 going on 68, so it makes me bitter and slightly immature.

Things I really struggle with are death, misogyny and well; that’s about it. I can appreciate a smart joke about them, but the jokes are rarely smart so more often than not I fail to have a sense of humor about them. Whatsoever. And as the world is filled with death and misogyny it is proving to make me a pretty grumpy person. It’s not a glamorous grumpy either – it’s not a Poe-like melancholy, it is, what I think it’s called “ansty” in some circles.

A recent example of this is when my partner in crime said he was going to become more and more misogynistic the older he got. He was joking, but being a couple of glasses of wine in and having had a whole life of it, I failed to see the hilarious side and instead went on a mission to prove a point. We went to the local corner shop so he could collect some mead and pipe tobacco. I walked in and proceeded to objectify the male clerks. To be fair it was quite a brutal objectification and as my partner pointed out afterwards, they were quite probably Muslims.

Guilt was quick off the mark, but pride was faster as I hastened to add …

“When has misogyny ever taken in to account your race, your religion or your creed? It doesn’t.”

Point proven, with unintentional irony, I decided it was time to stop wasting time going around proving points because there’s always going to be something, and start taking steps to enjoying what’s good.

Having previously written a step by step guide to coming to terms with your mortality – what better time to write a step by step guide to start enjoying your mortality?

There isn’t one. It is now, bitch.


Know when to leave …

Whether it be a party, a job or a relationship. If you feel it’s time to leave, it probably is. Get out while you still can.


It is all significant, until you say it’s not ….

Shakespear, the old sexbot, wrote a wonderful quote …

“Good Lord how bright and goodly shines the moon. I say it is the moon.”

“I know it is the moon.”

“Why then you lie, it is the blessed sun.”

“Then, God be bless’d, it is the blessed sun: But sun it is not, when you say it is not: And the moon changes even as your mind. What you will have it nam’d, even that it is.”

It is believed in certain circles (cool existentialist ones) that the meaning of life, is the meaning that you give your life. Your existence holds significance, the people around you’s influence is significant, the songs you love are significant, the things that move you are significant, everything influences everything else and it is all significant, until you say it is not. Because it is all up to you, there is no right or wrong answer collectively, only individually.  How you perceive it. So, pick whatever helps you sleep at night and don’t fucking go on about it. If you chose to decide we are all insignificant, understand that is only in your eyes; and visa versa.


Never trust the masses ….

Because the majority of people are idiots. And idiots don’t make for a happy life.


Don’t be a Martyr …

If you’re still here, you aren’t one.  The funny thing I’ve noticed is the people who have been through the most are the least likely to have a martyr complex. Funny that.

However hard done by you are, you should never be the judge of your own hardship. You will more often than not, get it wrong. We’ve all had bad things happen to us, they vary in their degrees but you should never feel worse off than any one else. Because thanks to life’s abrupt ends, everyone will experience an enormous amount of pain in their lives, it is inevitable, it just depends on when. So, whatever you’ve been through, remain safe in the knowledge that hardship does not make you great, how you deal with it does.


When you feel that all is lost, put ‘Metronomy – The Look’ on …

You will feel inexplicably happy, whatever’s happening. Put it on a loop if times are really bad.


Appreciate your friends …

And appreciate those people who are more than just friends (no, not like that) I mean those people whose true love for you makes your heart ache. Those people who forgive you for behaving like an unstable tornado, for saying things you shouldn’t have said, for treating you with nothing but kindness when you are at your lowest ebb, who feed you when you cannot afford to eat, who support you in whatever you do – however irrational, who are there when you call, who appreciate you. Because they are few and far between and you will miss them when they’re gone because you feel exactly the same way about them. So make sure they’re always close by and keep them close; restraining orders are nothing but paper.


Keep your wits about you …

If you don’t have sense of humor about all of this, you’re fucked. To put it lightly.


You are an animal ….

As cerebral as you are it’s important to remember this, wild thing. The best way to get down with your inner beast is through physicality, to be disconnected to your mind. I experience a great amount of pleasure going running and pushing my body, because it feels like something your body should be doing, you should be pushing your sallow limbs to move. We went around hunting and running and climbing once upon a time and that is still a part of you, your body is still designed to do that and what an incredible thing it is. What a waste for all it to do but plod from seat to seat.  Also allow it to feel some pain once in a while. In small doses it’s a comforting reminder you’re still alive. I can highly recommend a 60% slap round the face after some home made ravioli. Delicious.


No one you loved ever wasted your time …

Bob Dylan has a brilliant line “You just kind of wasted my precious time, don’t think twice it’s alright.”

Bob, the legend, might have got it wrong on this occasion. Our time on this earth is fleeting and precious but no one you loved will ever have wasted it. No matter how bitterly it ended. Yeah it would have been great to have spent that time with someone with who it would have lasted, you’d have saved some heartache but you’d have missed out on quite a lot. These loves may not have been the right loves and they may have had their pitfalls but it was the nuances of them as a person that you adored and these nuances will have influenced you in some capacity whether you like it or not.  You might have been introduced to incredible music, bizarre and hilarious experiences, new ways of thinking, you might have been told wonderful things, stories, met amazing people and you will have vicariously experienced different ways of living. And whatever happened at the end, you came out the other side. Though you may have experienced a sense of loss, trust me, you came out richer.


If you’re going to walk on thin ice, you might as well dance …

 Being the icons of responsibility and good time-keeping most of the time, we all have days when we need to go out, get a little wild, a little out of control. And if you’re going to do wrong you might as well do it right. Go all out, forget about everything and enjoy every minute of it. Just keep enough decorum not to vomit and reserved for blue moons.


Hope for a lot, but expect very little …

It’s nicer to be surprised in a good way.


See the wood for the trees …

Learn to see and appreciate what’s right infront of you. It’s incredibly important to have ambitions and goals, that’s part of what drives you, what makes you you. But don’t let this blinker you. Take a step back from time to time and take heed of what’s happening on the way, or you’ll miss it.


Dance, dance, dance …

You can dance. All you’re doing is moving your body. Fuck everyone elses ‘on-the-beat-slow-grinds’. You’re supposed to be having a good time, so have one. Just shake that little thing  like there’s no one around and no tomorrow. I was told by my 6ft2 Nigerian ex-boyfriend I couldn’t dance, but I still like to think I gave him a run for his money at the running man.

Bond with your blood ….

Your family are variations of you. You are bonded by something very precious.. Get to know, they can tell you a lot about you.


Learn to relish nostalgia like a good Turkish Delight ….

 It is hard to truly enjoy pleasant memories because of their transience. They were not necessarily generally happy times, but they are times that are lost to the ether. So because few of us are naturally good losers it stings a little. You will never be able to recreate it in it’s indescribable exactness. It’s sad, because it’s gone, but get over it and appreciate the romance of a pain that only life and love can bring about. It’s part of it. Better to appreciate it sooner rather than later. All of it, including the pain will be gone sooner than you know.


Follow your insects, sorry instincts …

Your instincts are usually right and if you don’t do what you think is right, you will never truly be happy. This isn’t to say you shouldn’t always be considerate of other peoples feelings and how your actions affect other people, because they do, but to be happy you ultimately need to be a little selfish. If your mum says you can’t be the next Chuck Norris but you truly believe you can be, then boy, you start getting so tough you make onions cry and tell your mum to bare with you. Because when all is said and done, you’re the only person living your life and it’s ultimately up to you to make it one you want to live.


Don’t be dickhead ..

Unless you actually have a penis on your face, there is no excuse. And even then, no need to be a cock about it.


Women! Stop buying cats …

 You gotta get a goldfish. Trust. Cats are selfish, self engrossed, arrogant and couldn’t give a toss about you. Do you really need more of that in your life? Goldfish have no idea who you are but don’t take it personally, they have no idea who they are either. Enjoy their incandescent goldness and take advantage of their short-term memories. They serve as wonderful confidents.


Get out of the city …

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Get in to the rural expanse. Living in the City all you see is other people, they are your only reflection of the world and you start to lose perspective on it. Step outside, there’s a lot more to it. And by gum is that a relaxing feeling.


Don’t take yourself too seriously …

No one else is.


Love Larkin about ….

At the end of Philip Larkin’s ‘Arundel Tomb’ is the line “All that remains of us is love.” It’s pretty self explanatory really. When you’re gone, all you leave behind is love and the products of your love, your children, your friends, your achievements, your keepsakes, your memories shared with other people. Love is a wonderfully complex thing, but ultimately should be pleasurable and held in high regard. It doesn’t come around twice. I’ve tried not to sound too sentimental throughout this, but now I’m going to throw caution to the wind … I genuinely can’t think of a more beautiful way to think about your death than what you leave behind, and when what you leave behind is an incarnation of your love. That’s big.


Smoke while cycling …

 …. Seriously. It’s just got to be done. James Dean knows what I mean.

I’m aware I may sound like a smart arse, but I’ve learnt all of this through my own mistakes (there have been many) and through other peoples; which doesn’t for a second make me clever, it just means I’ve learned ….