THE DIAMOND GEYSER

50 Pearls of WisDom #24

2012-02-11T12:31:00.000Z

This self portrait (above) is taken from Takashi Murakami's latest exhibition "EGO" at the Museum of Islamic Art in Qatar, his 20 foot tall inflatable likeness struck me as cool. Murakami's aim is to create an exhibition which is "a dialogue with one's own ego." as he fights to create his own fictional universe in response to the current information overload. But what is cool?

Cool is but an image in the water, a reflection of you!

Pickin' Up Poop (P.U.P)

2012-02-07T15:45:00.001Z

"Just for a laff."

The Diamond Queen

2012-02-06T19:27:00.000Z

Don't Bite the Apple Eve

2012-01-11T13:05:00.000Z

I've come to believe we never truly love someone else, but weinstead love what we see of ourselves in others. Which goes some way toexplaining our bond with our often defunct family members as well as thatpleasant sensation experienced when strong feelings are felt for someoneoutside of it. But we have all descended from very few and I figure by thisage all of those few reside in all of us too. If the bible is to be believed(and it’s my belief that it taste better with a pinch of salt) we came fromjust two. So I guess Adam and Eve are love and hate combined, to make you.

Autumnal Discomfort

2012-01-08T23:29:00.000Z

The crispy leaves crackle like a bon fire under my walkingboots. What's this I've stepped upon? A glimmer of gold pokes out through the rusticleaves. I use my foot to unveil what looks like a large coin or a ring but it’slodged in the turf it seems, realising I’ve no longer a desire for either I leaveit be. There was a time once not so long ago, when the pursuit of those objectsruled my decision making, the desire for the sound of ringing wedding bellsor cash registers occupied my thoughts and the acquisition of one seemedentirely dependent on the gratification of the other. A flash frame of déjà vuwhizzes past. A branch of a thorn bush twisting and stretching upwards snakelike clings to the side of my corduroy trouser leg, for now this is myonly enemy, I shake it off. The setting glow of orange mass paints a dash ofred life over the backs of my hands, as it tends to this time of year, theglow adds a rosy tint to everything at ground level, the clouds partly obstructits glory, regardless it won't be forgotten, perhaps in an hour from now itwill leave the sky but it promises to return. However what of me? The sun returns,the world turns. What of me? North York is a long way from home, what reasonbrings me here? I ask myself though I already know the answer, for it’s thesame reasoning that brings any of us anywhere, that has any man wanderingfor miles, trudging through the moors and marshes to arrive alone in thecountryside. I close my eyes for a heartbeat and try to imagine the colourful scaleof a rainbow gracing the hills of these villages, what delight that must bringto the inhabitants. I’m sure they must get plenty of rain here and that mustoccasionally be accompanied by a fare share of sunbeams, yet I can’t picture sucha spectrum across these villages. I see before me upon a hill a church buried amongst the nearbare trees, yet I know there are no houses for some distance. It’s almostas though religion is trying to hide out here with nature. 'Why do you try tohide religion?' I ask, as usual it gives no answer. ‘How typical’ I think, the waving trees rock back and forth in the wind.

Take a minute IV

2011-12-19T13:39:00.000Z

The Summer of My Discontent

2011-12-18T22:04:00.000Z

I pictured my annus mirabilis

But the fire was quickly stoked

As the only plan you can plan on

Is the plan to be broke

The sun had risen and the world was sweet

Just 21 and my knowledge complete

Time has no 2nds in education

And the only thirst is for information

So this piece of paper

I thought was the key

A carrot on a string of a donkey

I dissect my character

Piece by piece

I chase the shadows

and chase the Geese

I rest in noise

and live in peace

I become ashamed of how I cease

Banking on my relatives, empty as a glove

But what I'm withdrawing isn’t sterling its love

I cannot cook their meals

and I cannot pay their rent

This just the 1^st stanza of a Sumer of Discontent

In the streets my beef with the earth grows

What can I teach them?

What do they know?

Does DNA run through their bones?

If you cut them are they clones?

I'm not the hunter

But I'm not the fox

And you can't put me in a box!

This is the way I'd like to be

Indefinable D, a mystery

Martyred and confined to history

I aint the pod but the pea that’s free

So when you live your lives like yesterday

Do you see tomorrow?

When you pierce me in my chest

Is it my soul you aim to borrow?

A face that was once flawless

Has now become so creased

I used to be hear the preacher and now I am the priest

But I can’t find a channel somewhere my fears can vent

This fact marks the daze of a Summer of Discontent

The Top of the hill I saw at last

The tree led me up the garden path

The prettiest pear

My apple toots

For the sweetest is forbidden fruit

I scratch my head

I can't believe

The forbidden fruit is actually Eve

So just once I stand above you

But I'm still not quite on top

Jack and Jill roll down the hill

And Dom is left to plot

Plant the seeds of destruction

Then leave without a trace

I don't know where you are

But what you are is a disgrace

Even though you hurt me, I'd do it all again

'cos every bruise you’ve given me is power to the pen

It's silly now I look at it

A man-eater has to eat

If love is constipation

Then this is my excrete

I summed up this summer

A summer that came and went

And in summary indeed it was the sum of my discontent

Domi Walker (Age 21)

A question that doesn't expect a response.

2011-12-15T16:57:00.000Z

What is a rhetorical question?

What!?! Is a rhetorical question.

What is? A rhetorical question.

Garrett Morgan

2011-11-28T19:18:00.001Z

The inventor of the traffic light was African

Now you may think that's obscene

But if you read the signs between the lines

You'll see: Red, Gold and Green

11/11/11

2011-11-11T11:11:00.000Z

50 Pearls of WisDom #23

2011-11-07T21:53:00.000Z

"Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely." - Lord Acton

Pam Hogg

2011-11-06T17:02:00.000Z

Below is a bit I wrote about my favourite designer Pam Hogg for a job interview with Lisa Maffia from So Solid Crew:
Pam Hogg Spring Summer 2012 Paris

My favourite fashion designer at the moment is Pam Hogg,whose outfits have been worn by prestigious celebrity trend setters such as;Rhianna, Kylie Minogoue, Lady Gaga, Daisy Lowe and to a far lesser extentPeaches Geldof. The style of Hogg’s collection is futuristic yet elegant; Hogghas clearly taken some inspiration from the jump-suits of Science-Fictionprogrammes like Star Trek and Space 1999 at the same time the outfits remainsexy and sophisticated. For the more formal pieces Hogg combines sheer fabricswith denser materials such as leather or velour and for her more casualcatsuits she opts for lycra or spandex, while realistically these might work upa sweat in day to day chores they look fantastic on stages and runways. Whatmakes the designs work so well is the contrast of the new-age fabrics and thetraditional cuts, Hogg pieces often accentuate the shoulders, it’s somewherebetween punk and couture. I was fortunate to have the opportunity to see herLondon fashion week show at On|Off I was completely blown away, as well asbrilliant outfits she also knows how to put on a great show with exuberant headwear and harsh make-up. It was her second appearance at On|Off fashion week(which is designed to bring attention to up and coming designers), with thebuzz surrounding her work now it seems Pam Hogg will soon have to find a biggerstage as everyone who's anyone clamours for her outfits. Her designs gosome way to bridging the gap between how I once imagined the fashion of 2010would look and reality.

The pain of the painter

2011-10-27T17:14:00.000+01:00

Must every picture Ipaint be her portrait?

Am I not supposed tosee any beauty in the world?

Can she not see herselfish jealous heart

could be the ruin ofmy art if she had her way?

And I, who wouldnever stray

Not for the love of athousand: Helens, Venus' or Aphrodites

No, what I don’t wantcould never tempt me

When there is anounce of her in all my pots

So each strokestill shows some semblance

Show me that womanwho would even envy a landscape

I will show you thegirl trapped

Because it makes nosense that someone with your attributes

That the earth criesits dew in awe

and the sunflowersturn their heads for

should begrudge mysubjects of such ugliness

Yet when you’re inthe picture no one else is in the frame

Leave me? Halve me

Well that won’t do

Take a seat - let meget my brushes

Pressing Charges

2011-10-07T14:55:00.000+01:00

She was the type of girl, who had a little curl right in themiddle of her forehead, which is to say she was rotten! A low down dirty -- good forone thing. She was so bad she once fingered herself in a police line up eventhough she was innocent... once. She turned to the officer and said “Stick withme kid.” He reluctantly agreed as the boys in blue are always on the beat. Shewas charged with perjury forswearing. Perhaps it was the raw magnetism thatcaused the bent copper to press charges, but any way you look at it, it was anoffence to lie with an officer. In the end the he was pleased, she went down for 6 months.

How to write a good poem (in my humble opinion.)

2011-10-06T16:51:00.000+01:00

Take life, look at its bright side,

For its only wee isn’t it?

Best not to piss it away, ay?

Though I’ve heard some Popstars say

“Times never wasted when you’re getting wasted.”

Which is good for you but what about us?

Alas, take a blatant pop reference from common culture

Be the culture vulture, Kaka! Kaka!

Be the walrus,

Where possible take a sample from the Beat-Alls.

Grab a hand full of concepts complex like Oedipal:

It’s amateur psychology in a nutshell,

No this is amateur psychology in a nutshell...

“What am I doing in a nutshell?”

Assume that the oldies are the best

And don’t mess with your contemporaries’ contrariness,

Where they might have friends and peers

It’s up to you to have eyes and ears.

Take time, take yourtime

Pillage it to pieces,

For it is an infinitely sourceable resource

That will always be up with itself

Much like your reader, thus they can relate.

Kill your babies... No... Drop your kids off at the pool,

Then flush the little shits, they stink!

Throw in some homonyms for the Hayter’s, they love thatshit.

Listen to that little voice

Follow it because you have no choice.

Know true poetry is conceived in romantic frustration

Exorcise your thoughts lyrical masturbation.

And just for the dramatic effect

Always end on some form of a little death.

50 Pearls of WisDom #22

2011-10-05T08:30:00.000+01:00

Life is but a joke and the laughs on you...

The Signs Between the Lines

2011-10-03T14:59:00.000+01:00

Notice how he doesn’t notice them noticing him. Soenthralled he is with the words hidden within the pages, as he searches for themeaning hidden within the words. Meanwhile the girl opposite to the left sitscrossed legged, right knee over left, the girls to the right with their left kneeover their right and the girl directly opposite with her knees together, feet facingforward. All the female feet on the carriage pointing towards the fool immersedin his text, they oscillate as he turns the page, yet his eyes remain focussedon the prose. He was certain that books could help him win women, missing thewomen there for the winning. He keeps his eyes on the prize, whilst the goal remainsgaping, pleading with him to take the lead. At each station stop he takes theprecaution to look up from the page to make sure he has not missed his destination.At last now he sees the pretty darlings, coyly he quickly looks in thedirection of the one he finds most appealing, when she’s not looking. Look how sensualshe is as she bites her lower lip, he thinks how those lips might look lockedwith his and then as she looks towards, he looks away lest she thinks he’s somesort of sordid sexist. Imbecile. He returns to his study of how to obtainwhat’s already his, meanwhile not using whatever it is, whilst it is. Engaged now,he takes a sly glance topside of his Penguin classic, she’s looking away, so he lingers amoment on her subtle bosom. In an effort to disguise his voyeurism from theother passengers, he looks up at the tube map, plots this journey he alreadyknows off by heart, left to right his eyes travel along the route, returningdown they meet with a mature lady, she stares directly into his face, her twodiscs burning right through to his very essence, to him she seemingly sees withthe judgemental eyes of his mother, her majesty the Queen, his Grandmother, hiskid sister, the Holy Mary mother of God, the nurse who birthed him, and the lover he is yet to love. Rebuked. He hastilyreturns to the sanctuary of his novel. Where was he?

Act da Fool

2011-09-26T19:28:00.000+01:00

A crappy little tale.

2011-09-21T19:52:00.000+01:00

Edward seemeddestined for a career in marketing, but could never quite sell himself. In arecent job interview he knew he had to sort his shit out, so he opened thefiling cabinet and defiled under ‘D’,"how’s that for defecation in the face ofadvert city?" he asked. Needless to say he got the job. He repeated this task once a day,the office was a mess but at last Edward had his shit together.

Friary Road House: Second Issue

2011-09-08T22:49:00.002+01:00

I'm Really delighted to be a late addition to this edition. If there's a bar-code on the anthology I might consider myself a writer for a moment. Make sure you get to this event to grab a copy. More about Friary Road here.

Take a minute III

2011-08-29T23:04:00.001+01:00

50 Pearls of WisDom #21

2011-08-20T11:13:00.000+01:00

"The mediator between the head & the hands must be the heart." - Fritz Lang (Metropolis)

nee Jerks

2011-08-12T23:16:00.003+01:00

His dog tag reads Rob N. Steele

Where the 'N' stands for Knick

Initially the thing the public

Won’t stand at all.

If you don’t stand for something.

You’re certain to fall.

But I think we may have gone to P.O.T.T

When the pot is whistling impunity.

Now we know the streets have been disrespected,

But let’s try to put this into perspective:

The grownups had bonuses and real (Raoul) moats!

The kids have kicks and Haribos.

Aren't the MP’s and Bankers the true ASBOs?

Yet whilst their brief cases were opened and closed.

They want to throw children out of their homes,

Take their fringe benefits, raise student loans.

Yes make the shits pay and give them time,

But please ensure that the punishment befits the crime.

A little direction

2011-08-12T00:09:00.002+01:00

Left to his own devices, all that he sees he writes.

Pickin up a pen he puts his thoughts down

East of Eden the best of the West

North-Divide-South

Let's have a cup of ambition all round.

Brit FM 2011 - Music with Heart

2011-08-09T01:07:00.002+01:00

If only someone would give me a platform maybe I could influence some people for the better. Here's my Radio show from July:

Brit FM Music With Heart

Don't Hug Me I'm Scared

2011-08-07T22:04:00.000+01:00

This is genuinely what happens when you over exert creativity. (See poetry)

Dust

2011-07-29T19:21:00.000+01:00

I do it for my Dad,
My Grandpa and his father
and my Great-Great-Grandfather before.
My Four Fathers.
The footprints of their feats
are now replaced by the concrete.
But each grain of dust they leave
Is engrained in every breath I breathe
In the cracks of my skin their names engraved like calligraphy
and my heart is a beating path marked dignity.
Upon their shoulders I stand tall,
holding all they have sacrificed so that I could have all.

All Roads...

2011-07-28T18:25:00.000+01:00

Stabbed in the background music he makes a Usain Bolt for the door ajar on the floor bored of those who came before ground down to the bones by this poet tree of life and Times New Roman numerals.

The Buzz of the Beehive

2011-07-28T12:11:00.001+01:00

Her Blake rolls his eyes

he ain’t no prophet, but he saw this one coming.

One Australian rubs his clammy hands

under the lamp light of the sweaty spotlight.

Four Million People belatedly hear a cry for help,

Stop, rewind and play it again.

Several female pop stars release an audible sigh of relief,

which climbs to the top of the charts on pre-release.

A soulful soul soulfully soles to the sol and goes

from ashes to ashes instead of listening to Ashes to Ashes

68 Norwegians don’t batter an eyelid,

completely unmoved by the news.

A tear dries on its own.

I and the public know what all Brit kids learn

Those to whom evil is done, end up in an urn.

9500 days and counting

2011-07-14T23:55:00.002+01:00

By Mummy:

I hope today's the kind of day

To make you smile out loud

That brings out rays of sunshine

From behind a lonely cloud

The kind of day that's special

Is what I wish for you

My dearest Son

With all our love and kisses too

50 Pearls of WisDom #20

2011-07-08T17:06:00.001+01:00

"The truth is everyone is going to hurt you, you just have to find the ones worth suffering for." - Bob Marley

Julien Pacaud

The Humming Bird Diaries - Part II

2011-07-07T21:38:00.003+01:00

Friday April 1^st

Porty again. First destination today was the bank. Things move in Jamaican time here, natuarlly. A three person queue takes 45 minutes to reach the front of. I sat by the door increasingly ashamed of how unruly the etiquette was here. Nobody was holding the door open for the next person whether man, woman, young or old. Whilst sitting incredibly patiently an officer walked in with a shotgun in his hand which was seemingly locked and loaded, this I feared was an indication of the threat level here of crime. Once we had eventually left the bank we did the shop for the nine night. A Nine Night is I believe a Caribbean tradition where the night before the funeral everyone pays their respects with the aim of celebrating the life of the deceased. At Drapers they had brought a goat which sadly was to be sacrificed. I returned in time to see this Goat hung and skinned, honestly this wasn’t particularly pretty but as a carnivore it was enlightening to see my food being prepared in the proper sense. Later I managed to be hooked into the centre of the room of what I’d call fundamentalist Christians sharing their memories of my Uncle Sam. As his nephew I suspect it was expected of me to speak and fill one of the many silences, but alas I lacked the courage in the moment. After that I was introduced to some more cousins, it seems we are scattered far and wide across both sides of the Atlantic. The music played gospel into the night and the grown folk played some dominoes, others just sat in front of the Speakers, others danced and my cousins and I looked through some family photos for jokes.

Saturday 2^nd

Uncle Sam’s funeral. A tough day for all inolved. An open coffin lay with the body of this great man in it. His arms peacefully folded and hands adorned in white gloves. There's something hard hitting about seeing a body like this. The body of a relative. It was tough seeing my Nan put glasses on the face of her dead son. Tough to see the family grieving. Tough to see the church packed to the rafters with people wanting to bid their farewells. I'm a sensitive man its true and I tried to hold back the tears, failing sometimes. My sensitivity always concerns only love. Wherever there is a lack or wherever there is too much and those times when I'm caught unawares by how much I have. Today it was the associations that were making it hard; what if that were my Grandma back in London (who was ill at the time)? What if it were my Father? And every time I linked it to someone new in my mind tears came to my eyes. Even thoughts of my own death caused this affect. My Uncle's secretary had a rousing tribute, she spoke about the man, Sam, who put other people before himself. She spoke about her life which was in ruins before Uncle Sam came into it and helped her turn it around, now she has a beautiful little daughter and thanked my Uncle Sam for helping her to exist. She made a suggestion that hit me in the gut, we all have a purpose beyond wealth and it’s important for us to establish it. Thoughts that had whizzed about my mind lately she gave a voice. When we go what do we leave behind? Will people remember us solely as friends, acquaintances or as a person who changed even saved their life? Every person I spoke to that day remembered Sam fondly for them he was a foundation they built their confidence on. People often talk about great men as pillars of their community and it’s easy to eulogise but in this little village in the country, the respect that this man’s life had gained was clear to see. I want to hold this feeling and make sure I take it back with me, I want to impact the lives of others positively. As we buried his body at Drapers alongside our ancestors, people sang hymns, a man played a tambourine and a strong breeze blew in from the sea. It could almost have been his soul ascending.

Sunday 3^rd

Church day in Jamaica and over there in England too. As we walked up to Uncle Steve’s we hear the bellows of congregations and preachers speeches from left to right. My cousin tells me there are more churches per square mile here in Jamaica then in any other country. Though this doesn’t seem to help the crime rates none. The family meet to have some Ackee and Saltfish for lunch before heading down to the beach for our last full day all together. There’s not much to say about swimming in the Caribbean sea, it’s one of those things you just have to do. After a few dips I got talking to a lady from Reading, sadly she told me her sons were killed in a crash in Peckham (small world) in further bad news she informed me the man selling her fish charged $1000 (about £10) for a plate, this same dish had cost my cousin Melinda $300. There’s a lot of this type of exploitation here, I got my Dad to order mine and even despite tknowing the seller he was till charged $500, when I told my Dad the actual price he managed to get another $100 back. I think they see it that the diaspora have to do there bit to make up for the loss of earnings.

We took a few family photos before heading to Uncle Steve’s for dinner. This dinner was particularly eventful. We had some news on in the background and my male cousin, former Jamaican now an American and employed with the U.S Marines expressed an opinion that shocked me to my core: “Libya, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Israel. If it were down to me I’d drop a bomb and wipe them all out.”

This was greeted by gasps and it was his Jamaican girlfriend that commented first: “No! Innocent people there y’know?”

“Yeah I know, but this shit has been going on too long!” Was my cousin’s response.

How worrying it is for us all that a man that actually works for the Marines and had previously been positioned in Afghanistan for a year, presumably armed, how worrying that he could express such a view? Why was it not more surprising? Imagine this way of thinking could seem natural as he walked through Afghanistan shooting his gun! I could have got in a fight and almost certainly lost if I expressed my views too sternly, so I murmured “Why don’t you just ignore it then?” That my brief shy summary of my entire outlook on Middle-East conflict and American world policing.

Another bombshell landed soon after, as we were trying to piece together some family. Nan announced in a Queen Vic music stopping moment that her Dad was from Panama and was knifed and chased out of St. Thomas following a dispute. How amazing! I was now a proper South American even in genes.

Uncle Steve spoke about what he had heard of our good name. There’s a place here in Jamaica called Walker’s Wood, so it transpires because my ancestors so heavily inhabit the place. There is also a Buckley, another family named location, it seems I was etymology. As well as having most of Drapers district somehow related, Jamaica was starting to feel as though it was my blood, I was well advised to check well down the family tree before embarking on any relationships with Jamaican ladies.

Monday 4th.

The day I pay... Went to Porty to face my fate, however this time I brought my Uncle Robert along as back up. When I got to the Jerk stall I actually couldn't recognise the guy I had owed, then a man came up to me with a piece in his hand... a piece of jerk pork that is! Another sample. Being no mug I immediately offered to pay up my debt of $30 (40p). But the Jerk dealer said don't worry "small ting there." Uncle Rob enjoyed his sample and bought some for the both of us. After handling business in town it was time for my 2 female cousins and Uncle Rob to head back to London. We got a mini bus to the airport which took about 2 hours. This was the first time I had done the journey during daylight and actually there was little to report. One thing I did notice was quite a number of people missing a leg or 2, I think this may be down to the roads but perhaps diet or high blood pressure (thanks to these bloomin mosquito's probably!) I dunoo I'm no doctor. Kingston seems quite tame in comparison to the reports as one of the worst places in the world, but hey what can you tell from a bus window? At the airport we said our goodbye's and then it was back to Uncle Steve's for dinner and we also watched some of Laugh Jamaica Laugh which is a sketch show that deals with some of the issues of the nation, it was actually quite funny and anything but politically correct.

The Concertina Dreamer

2011-07-06T23:49:00.002+01:00

Life can crush every one of my dreams

I’ll still dream

I can die a thousand times

and still I’ll breathe

No matter how sick I am today

I’ll get better

If anything about me grates

It’s just till I’m greater

My folks say I may be too much of a pushover

But I do my best writing horizontally

Alot of kick starting but flatter to deceive

This time the kick up the arse I need

It’s only when I start to feel sorry for myself

That my blessings are a curse

I do want the drumrolls to sound for me

I don’t wanna be a deadbeat

All the talent on the entire Earth

Won’t make up for hard work

I can do anything I put my mind to

It’s putting my mind to anything that’s been the trouble.

Please leave a message

2011-07-05T23:58:00.000+01:00

The phone was engaged... So I married the internet.

Perhaps

2011-07-04T19:00:00.000+01:00

I think 'perhaps' is my most overused word.
Perhaps since I know nothing for sure.
So I think, perhaps, to use it less,
I perhaps need to know more.

Original Bardman

2011-07-03T11:59:00.005+01:00

Skanking at a shoobs on a Fri.

DJ's banging out tunes! Pure vibes.

Some pretty gals g’wan like they're too nice,

like dem shit can make bun from nice and spice.

But my Kingdom for a ping.

Pull a ting do the ting and ting.

If music is the food of love

‘llow me to buffet in her buffness!

Gimme swagger to bag her.

Hope two-twos my lyrics blag her.

We can do the mash.

While you mans chat breeze,

I’m getting her gassed.

Now my hand's on her hair, it’s wavy

Her backoffs ridiculous, it’s all gravy!

Dis ones the finest cos she’s so thick.

She must be Nike cos she’s so tick.

So I break her off like I planned,

Breast or thigh? Nah, I’m a waist man.

See the mind wanders, best stop it.

Treachery may be a foot

but betrayal always flops it.

She’s got a next man so me 'n' hims beefin now.

Dunno bout my Dad but my Mum’s a cow

So if he wants beef, there’s beef fam!

I’m on top shop and he’s some next man.

Things always pop off when everything’s peng,

I meet my endz, from Peckham to Penge.

I spy him at last and I’m bare hyped!

I live by the sword, he can die by the knife.

Oi Cuz!

Bredder!

Ay blood,

Bredwrin!! Bredwrin!!

Yeah you Bruv!

It's curtains Fam. You don’t know me ...

No she left of her own accord

2011-07-02T16:26:00.002+01:00

I always thought I knew my Mother,

the woman that raised me all those years.

As a baby, suckled milk at her full breast.

In her garden I learned to give my best.

She had taught me to walk,

fed me ambition, food for thought.

She put me in line, straightened my back.

Then once I had grown to a strapping young chap,

she gave me all of her history,

showing me the roots of the family tree

and there at the end of the line was me.

But on holiday, against belief,

I saw a woman, just like me.

Her walk was crooked and bosoms empty,

But her skin and forehead and eyes were mine

and a call escaped from deep inside.

‘Mother!’ Child! Her eyes cried

and even more now resembled mine.

I held her tight within my arms,

I promised she would feel no harm.

I ask with warmth ‘was this some test?’

She whispers ‘Shush child, Mother knows best.’

Nothing Matters

2011-07-01T17:08:00.000+01:00

So I am not a machine after all

I must be a human.

No, not even human, an animal,

I am.

Or less an organism.

Am I merely an atom?

I must just be matter?

No, less still, I don’t even matter at all.

Robots of Brixton

2011-06-29T19:11:00.003+01:00

This is well done, reminds me of the less affluent Brixton I recall as a child. Check out the website: factoryfifteen.com video by Kibwe Tavares.

Brixton has degenerated into a disregarded area inhabited by London's new robot workforce - robots built and designed to carry out all of the tasks which humans are no longer inclined to do. The mechanical population of Brixton has rocketed, resulting in unplanned, cheap and quick additions to the skyline.

The film follows the trials and tribulations of young robots surviving at the sharp end of inner city life, living the predictable existence of a populous hemmed in by poverty, disillusionment and mass unemployment. When the Police invade the one space which the robots can call their own, the fierce and strained relationship between the two sides explodes into an outbreak of violence echoing that of 1981.

Take a minute II - With Dizzee Rascal

2011-06-12T20:04:00.001+01:00

As I'm sure you can imagine, life as the worlds biggest grime artist can get a bit hectic. When Dizzee Rascal needs to get away from it all he takes a little trip to Bury Hill Fishery in Dorking for a spot of fishing and nature photography.

50 Pearls of WisDom #19

2011-05-25T13:12:00.002+01:00

The genius that is Beyonce back and raising the bar once again. The song being the inspiration & the performance the perspiration.

Much inspired by Bob Marley's daily routine, I have been starting my days with a 10 minute jog around my local park; it clears my mind, puts me amongst nature, tightens the body and releases lovely little endorphins. Then I get to work. "Genius is one percent inspiration, ninety-nine percent perspiration." - Thomas Eddison

Live in the Moment

2011-05-24T18:35:00.003+01:00

Jay-Z & Chris Martin -Beach Chair

Picture by Adam Brigland

There’s a gleam in her eye

Manifesting itself as a twinkle in mine.

And there she is,

Our unborn child,

Begging us not to deny her life.

I respire for that happy moment.

Which is all happiness ever aspired to be.

A moment.

An un-appointed meeting of eyes in a room

Filled with insignificant people.

There's a current that could power a metropolis.

How I wanted for those moments to last forever

Beautiful, intelligent, charming, lovely, but insignificant people,

In that moment.

A heartbeat.

A brief frame as a flaming phoenix and Icarus cross paths.

If only we could freeze that moment.

If I could fall forever in those blue skies

That...

That must be the only way to fly.

If just for a second we take off our watches,

Remove the hands and the sands of time.

What waits on the other side?

Perhaps (for a change) a pair of dry eyes.

Could be a couple of families living lies.

Or a baby bag with a back catalogue of nursery rhymes.

It’s a paradox,

Time,

No matter how much you spend,

You can never buy.

Domi Walker (Age 9449 days)

Baroque-Back-Mounting

2011-05-19T22:56:00.000+01:00

Quite awesome from www.worth1000.com

The After Show

2011-05-18T22:29:00.002+01:00

Wow, I just remembered I used to be really quite funny. I've dug this up from the Myspace archives. I'm pretty chuffed with this mix considering it was only really are 4th attempt at audio comedy (Thanks to LeeN at NLT once again!). The After Show party were a comedy duo including myself and my good friend Jen, who were at one stage ranked in the top 25 comedians in the UK (on myspace) ahead of the likes of quite a few famous comedy acts.

The After Show

Dom & Jen | Myspace Video

Watching me without you

2011-05-12T00:28:00.003+01:00

I’m here,

I’m here

3 decades too late

In the schedule of eternity

I just missed our date.

The strange phenomena of a union just off.

She whispers my name in the morning fog.

It’s I who loves you better now.

The black Blake reincarnate

Was looking for my Catherine.

Pushed my foot on the heartbreak

I was fooled by a pseudonym.

I'm told that mountains must never meet

So here stands a King all dark and a lonely.

Because you ran straight over the hill

Ignoring that that wasn't part of the deal.

It’s meeeeeEEEeeeee

Peter Pan returned from Neverland

I won’t let go, oh Wendy Darling, how you’ve grown!

On top of the ice and off your wedding list,

I’m a child in your eyes with an infant kiss.

But I found a meaning to the dreaming

When all I ever looked for was deeper understanding

The Sheep are the Soldiers of the sensual world.

Here you see we. ew ees uoy ereH

Over Here!

Be proud my Leo Lionheart

You manage to be invisible whilst jumping off the page?

And all the women of the world couldn’t fill your space.

...Mmmm yes.

You can see I’m a woman at heart,

Yet still you love me for that.

Feeling something, I can’t put my finger on.

Talking music, sat in your lap,

But this woman's work is hard on the man

She raises the bar whilst holding my hand.

Telling me I'll make it, if I only believe.

I want her as the dream not the reality.

Just 2 steps from a watery grave

When a voice washes in on the 9^th wave.

Begging me sweetly don’t give up,

I'm the great Houdini as she pulls me up.

Pause for the Jet...

I look out into the big sky of honey

It’s in me, we’re rockets, I realise.

So I want to be your Diamond Knight,

Though I hear you can never be mine.

I take the ball that you've rolled to my side.

Blow a kiss on the wind to 1985.

When the record ends I get back to my life

I’ll just try to fly my Diamond Kite.

1 hand clapping.

The Humming Bird Diaries - Part I

2011-05-05T17:31:00.004+01:00

Monday 28^th

Nail extensions ☑

C-Cup or larger ☑

Painted on smile ☑.

Welcome to Virgin Atlantic cabin crew. The 9 hour flight dragged with the weight of my anticipation on the clock. The highlight? The almost continual synchronised feeding sessions (it was as though a brave new world hadn’t been fiction at all). On an aeroplane full of Jamaicans I was delighted to get my chicken dish before they inevitably ran out. Richard Branson and his people should have known by now that the vegetarian or meatballs option was going to be very low down on the list on this flight. We weren’t far from England and already I was starting to feel a sense of collective responsibility. I was more pro-active in helping people and it seemed they were happy to ask for my help. Squeezing the excess luggage belonging to a mother in the adjacent seat into our compartment. Her little girl was an angel the whole flight, hardly crying at all. Which is amazing because if I was packed in with all that hand luggage it would have been a bit of a downer.

A smooth landing later, (though only narrowly missing the sea) my Dad and I head for check-in. A tall, authoritative and well spoken Jamaican lady instructs us. Her accent was far removed from the yardie you may be familiar with and has a beautiful inflection. I hoped inside that this was a sample of things to come. To my surprise the sun completely disappeared between touchdown and emerging from check in at 7pm! Here I was back in Jamaica, I took a deep breath, it smelt like home. My Dad’s 2^nd cousin Roy and his friend Fargo pick us up, along with Fargo’s family, we go by mini bus towards Portland.

The journey through Kingston even at night was eye opening. It struck home that in London you have to be rich just to be poor. Not the case here, hundreds of faces just hang out on the roadside which for the most part have no pavement. The roads have no streetlights through most of Kingston and it actually look as slummish as the music video’s I’ve seen it feature in. As is the case internationally the houses on the hill are a massive improvement but there’s no ignoring that things here are rough. Most strikingly considering this is the capital city it’s disheartening to find the roads in desperate need of repair. We stopped outside Kingston for “two-two” piece of Chicken and a festival. We take a cotch by the bar, this actual chicken shack of a restaurant feels authentically 3^rd world, a sign reads “Girl staff wanted.” The rest of the journey is a bit smoother as we eventually make it on to the highway 2000 and to Fairy Hill where my Uncle Steve’s massive pad is located. I feel distinctly Fresh Prince in this moment. But first to get some sleep.

Tuesday 29^th

Woken by roosters at Sunrise, amazing! Dossed about the house for far too long but eventually we made our way down to town, Port Antonio to be precise. We took a taxi there which cost us $100 Jamaican dollars each, which is actually cheaper than a bus journey back in Blighty it equates to about 95p. The massive pot holes in the roads make for a treacherous journey, if you watch the cars going by you can see the tread of the tires have been filed down almost to the hubcaps by the road. Once in town my Farder (Pops) and I exchange some money and have a talk about the social political situation, I propose if I ran the country the roads would be the first thing I’d change, introduce pavements, street lights and smooth out the land. In fact if all roads lead to Rome there were some very lazy Romans in the Caribbean. On that note I feel it’s important to inform everyone that all sorts of shades and races inhabit the town and just like anywhere else I caught sight of a few beauties.

Drapers

In the Supermarket we did a shop for the much talked about Drapers (this is my Dad’s childhood home in Drapers District.) To my great surprise the only available milk was Soya in cartons and the other option was powdered, regular pasteurised milk was entirely unavailable, don’t take it for granted! We jumped in a taxi to Drapers following the sea round to our destination, passing lovely scenery and some big houses on the hill, the sea was impeccably blue. I was excited to see what Drapers was like as my Dad had painted it (metaphysically speaking) in such a way I thought of a big Wuthering Heights/ East of Eden type family home stoked in Walker history. Having stayed at Uncle Steve’s I imagined something even bigger, instead Drapers is actually a large Bungalow, down hill also known as Gulley, for my Dad’s childhood home however it was quite beautiful if not quite as grandiose as I had now come to expect. Father took us down to the sea which was easily accessible from the garden, in fact let’s just call shotgun on the Caribbean sea and call the whole thing ours. He told stories about how he used to catch fish, fresh almonds and swim from sharks as he sat upon his rocky throne breaking into some fresh almonds for us all to share. I could tell he was in his element. After some time at Drapers we decided it best to have dinner at Uncle Steve’s. Preparing Breadfruit fresh off the tree, starting up a fire and putting the balls of fruit on. It was a lovely feast with Nan, all the cousins, Uncles, Aunts present.

After dinner my Dad and Nan had a heavy conversation at the top of the steps outside Uncle Steve’s. They discussed what was to happen to Draper’s now that Uncle Sam had passed. Nan said it’s in her name and her family home so it should remain so with her paying the land tax. My Dad bitterly argued that she’ll be gone in 5 years and it’s better to sort it now. He wanted to put the land in my name and have me pay the land tax. However we hadn’t discussed this and I didn’t know what to make of it all especially as I was in no position to commit to future payments. “Can Dominic pay it though?” asked my Nan “I wouldn’t want to commit to that.” And there my Nan had the upper hand. “There you go, Dominic isn’t the only Grandchild.” It’s true there are about 20 of us now. In the end the debate was just left up in the air a bit. My Dad keen to see that Drapers is kept a hold of in a respectable condition and my Nan slightly stubborn but essentially wanting the same thing. Afterwards I was to get my suitcase and stuff to take up residence at my Aunty Angela’s for kip and a working shower. Here I would reside for the rest of my stay in Jamaica.

Wednesday 30^th

Hung around Aunty’s house a while watching a bit of telly. The Prime Minister is being trialled for his handling of the Christopher ‘Dudas’ Coke expedition. Mr Knight, the chairman, cross examining Prime Minister Bruce Golding, Knight is holding no punches and quite frankly this is the greatest Television I have seen in many years! I can only sit and dream of our Prime Minister getting so public a dressing down on England’s core terrestrial channels.

We went to Port Antonio again where I managed to find a store selling Cow’s milk which I’m very happy with. In a police car I saw the finest lady cop I’ll ever set my eyes on. All I’ll add is I can see why so many Yardie’s turn to crime. We were meant to go to the beach today but this was abandoned for some reason. The other highlight was playing some after dinner Dominoes with my Dad, my cousin Junior and cousin Milly’s Nigerian partner Mitchell. I managed to beat them all on my 2^nd attempt which was embarrassing for all involved. It won’t please them for me to express my opinion but let’s be honest Dominoes is essentially playing snap with chunks of plastic.

Thursday 31^st

Once again mistake voices of builders next door for my Dad, how embarrassing. Once again we go to Port Antonio, good old Porty. Made a grave error or two this time, firstly I walked around the market with no money in my pocket letting down the numerous vendors that were trying to push their goods on me. Then next door I went for for a likkle Jerk, the guy at the stool was selling Jerk pork for $600 but I told him I only had $300 and so he cut me $300 worth but I paid him $250.

“Ya Short.” He said looking at me with murderous intent. “Ya gaan pay me the rest” (Note the absence of a question mark, this is because I wasn’t sure whether this was in fact a question or a threat!) I told him I would pay the rest to him on Monday.

“$50 yeah?” I asked shaking a little.

“We’ll sort it Monday...” he replied, which was followed by a deep gulp from my direction. So now I have 2 options: to go back on Monday and face my fate or duck Porty and eventually Jamaica, forever. I couldn’t help but think that fate, unfortunately, was a vastly hiked up repayment or a date with the Jamaican mafia. I’ll be sure to leave all my valuables behind when I go. Perhaps the United States government will be kind enough to intervene and expedite me from the country Christopher Dudas style.

Our journey back was almost as entertaining, though far more light-hearted as my cousins and I crammed into a minibus taxi, a couple of miles later, the bus, already at capacity, stopped to pick up another two passengers (aka meal tickets.) After squeezing the first lady in somewhere she quite clearly couldn’t fit, for the 2^nd lady he then produced a plank of wood with a cusion duck taped on and he placed it in the isle between two seats. At one look at this the 2^nd lady replied: “Cha!! Make I tek a cab!” and left the minibus to jump in the cab behind, much to everyone on the buses amusement.

Later in the day we went to the beach in Fairy Hill, which was as picturesque as can be imagined. A Rastaman began talking with my cousin Zelita and though I pretended to look uninterested I was very much engaged in his ideas and beliefs and how articulately he expressed them. The underlying point being that we should look for a heaven here on earth. All religion aside I wholeheartedly agree.

Love is Like...

2011-05-05T14:19:00.000+01:00

50 Pearls of WisDom #18

2011-04-28T17:33:00.002+01:00

"War is over if YOU want it." - John Lennon & Yoko Ono

Take a minute I - At Sea

2011-04-28T17:20:00.000+01:00

Thought it was time to introduce a new segment. Take a minute: In this thread I will be posting (roughly) minute long videos of tranquil or interesting moments from life away from my computer. Sometimes when life is a bit hectic you need to take a minute. Here's the first of the bunch, riding the waves of the Caribbean sea on that big blue watery road. Careful though I almost feel sea sick just watching it and I don't suffer from Sea Sickness. Umm... yeah it's 59 seconds.

The Future III - The Holy Trilogy

2011-04-21T16:57:00.000+01:00

Spotify: The Future III - The Holy Trilogy

Empty Portfolios

2011-04-10T10:00:00.002+01:00

When the politicians squeeze the heart,

What it bleeds out is art.

As they tighten the purse strings

They loosen the noose on the hands tied in.

But fraudster Juliets and Romeos

Trade top 8s for empty portfolios.

And now the Teeny Boppers are fully grown,

But ‘Ooh Na Na’ plays on their iPhones.

It’s a crying shame the lives we waste,

See the daffodils growing in our place.

We try to right the things we read

in a looking glass we know misleads.

We watch Earth go round in 360P

While tears fill intergalactic streams.

Combustible data, upload, brain.

The eloquent throw words and win mind games

The inarticulate throw objects and extinguish flames.

The flock parade their peacock feather intellects,

All the while hearing but never listening.

All the while speaking but with nothing to say.

All the while eating it up, without getting a taste.

I don’t want to talk about peace any more.

I want peace.

There though will always be a few,

Vessels, with the ghost of every great soul inside of them

and an ability to see into the future.

There are a chosen few who do it because they must.

Because their skulls would convulse and crush their craniums otherwise.

They wake in pools of cold sweat and creativity.

These few aren’t the same as you and I.

Their heads pulsate and their hearts think.

They who seek no financial gain, for they are already enriched.

These poor prophets will be victimised

And the Richer ones will be ostracised.

Instead, show encouragement, ‘Build your art.

Like Noah, make an ark and only let the worthy in!’

There is a possessive spark.

A Photographer captures.

A musician touches.

A murderer kills.

A martyr dies for.

A painter strokes.

A dancer expresses.

And the poet must provoke.

There is a possessive fire.

Some Men Like to Jam

2011-04-03T10:10:00.003+01:00

An old tune J-LeeN and I put together. Get some more goodness at NLT Productions. http://www.nltproductions.co.uk/

Peace!
Raiders of the Lost Art - Some Men like to Jam

Gone Fishing

2011-03-28T13:09:00.002+01:00

All being welll I should be in the literally have my head in the clouds as this is posted. I'm having a little time out in JamRock but stay tuned as I've scheduled a few posts in my absence. See you in a few weeks.

Selfishness

2011-03-27T16:35:00.003+01:00

Selfishness is a funny old word

‘cos selling fishness is quite absurd

Hank selfish ‘cos he don’t catch any

But shores men far from pretty Pennys

When stranded without no place to go

Then happiness can never flow

Bob selfish ‘cos he wants them all

He thinks, to him each one does call.

Full of hooks and lines and bait

But ends up with an empty plate.

Ron selfish, though he wants just one

‘cos to someone else this one belongs

And so he stares with jealous eyes

At the captains lovely prize.

Chuck selfish ‘cos he has his one

And makes no room for everyone.

So he throws them all back in the sea

Instead of feeding the hungry.

And so you’ve heard my selfish song

See there’s a hook in everyone.

Life In Slow Motion 2

2011-03-24T11:53:00.000Z

Here's a video shot and produced by another of my talented friends, Mr. James Turner. Dance, Expression, Yeah!:

The Ignorant Flower

2011-03-14T23:42:00.009Z

Oh ignorant flower, with your beauty

why do you stand so proud?

How I know so much more than you,

you and your little pretty smile.

Naive flower what are you smiling for?

By the winter you’ll be sesame.

Don’t you know you’ll wilt away?

But there are untold seasons left in me.

Stop glowing you optimistic flower.

I will chop you down.

Keep forcing your pretty colours in my face

I promise you won’t see a summer hour.

Oh you bloody stupid ignorant flower.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Oh you stupid ignorant bloody flour.

You’re not so pretty now, are you?

Oh, pretty nadeshiko, I’m really frightened.

I see now how we’re united?

I want this melancholy to be swept from me

Instead it seems, my breath has gone now.

Kate Bush Interview - (2nd half is pure Gold)

2011-03-07T22:38:00.000Z

50 Pearls of WisDom #17

2011-03-06T19:24:00.002Z

The Wolf

2011-03-02T13:05:00.000Z

Really like this picture by Barbie Lawrie; Check out her blog, follow, praise. http://barbiethewalrus.blogspot.com/

4Dimensional Affects

2011-02-26T01:18:00.002Z

Image by http://www.chrisbucklow.com/

What would have been "Sestine 4: Echo"

2011-02-20T00:07:00.002Z

Concept, inspired by Barnabe Barnes 'Sestine 4 from Parthenophil and Parthenophe.'

Echo and Narcissus by Sorgie

2011-02-19T23:49:00.001Z

By Deviant Artist Sorgie. http://sorgie.deviantart.com/

End of Year Report

2011-02-14T23:34:00.001Z

The Diamond Geyser is 1 year old today! I don't quite know how best to mark the occasion. I wanted to have a poem for every letter of the alphabet to share but I was 8 off. Having chosen a memorable day for its creation, I'll just say it was by no small coincidence. I've enjoyed my Blog, which has been over time an exploration of my art. I've always tried to make my posts original or if not give credit where due (or DEW). All we can aim for is originality and the influences will come naturally. For the year ahead I hope I can excel still further and start pushing things to a wider audience. For all that are reading this page your support has meant the world to me, thanks! Hopefully my musings have inspired as much as they have been inspired, for "In the end the love you take is equal to the love you make." Happy Valentines Day. Stole this from a Tumblr seemed to fit recent themes:

50 Pearls of WisDom #16

2011-02-08T23:35:00.000Z

Origin and Originality can only occur at the beginning and since we're many millions of years into the life of this planet everything is on some level a remix. "If you wish to make an Apple Pie from scratch, you must first invent the Universe." As Carl Sagan puts it in one of my all time favourite quotes. I found this great little home-made documentary called Everything is a Remix by Kirby Ferguson on Vimeo (Be sure to check out part 1 if music is more your bag.) Kirby chops up bits of Cinema here to show that everything has it's roots in everything else:

This lead me to think about other samples, such as this Marco Brambilla video I blogged alongside Kanye West's Power video (a song which samples King Crimson's 21st Century Schizoid Man). In this video Civilization Brambilla uses some clever editing and lots of scenes from various films to make a video collage of heaven and hell:

Which admittedly in hindsight is quite similar to my collage from a few months back East Meets West. The similarities are even more striking though with the new Damian Marley and Nas video Patience directed by the music video director Nabil Elderkin, yes the same guy who directed the first Music Video I posted on my blog in February of last year Coldest Winter. The video for Patience is absolutely unoriginal but also absolutely awe-strikingly awesome! As Isaac Newton paraphrased "seeing further by standing on the shoulders of giants" etc... building on what went before is the most successful way to push things forward (always remembering to put some of your own uniqueness in there of course.) How fitting it is then that it is a Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley who stars in this, quite stunning music visual:

The Mannequin

2011-01-30T10:14:00.001Z

1. Object of desire.

2011-01-30T01:38:00.004Z

2. The Magic Penny

2011-01-28T17:46:00.000Z

3.D (Me)

2011-01-25T16:12:00.000Z

4. Paris' Finest

2011-01-22T11:11:00.001Z

5. Croydon's finest

2011-01-20T11:43:00.002Z

1/1/11

2011-01-01T23:32:00.000Z

Dominick The Italian Christmas Donkey (Remastered)

2010-12-23T00:58:00.003Z

Foreword: Here's a little Christmas tale/tail I wrote for the kids. It's about 5 years old so I had to work on a few of the references, I've changed the social network site from Myspace to Facebook for example. I was in 2 minds whether to change the names of the female celebrities mentioned, but after some deliberation decided they were still relevant enough for this Blog edition. Please take note that Dominick is spelt with a 'k' and therefore bares no resemblance to the author, myself, Dominic, any similarities are purely coincidental. If it wasn't for the crude humour I think this would make a fine piece of children's literature, as it is though... I hope you will enjoy this story and have a Merry Christmas from The Diamond Geyser.

50 Pearls of WisDom #15

2010-12-11T16:33:00.003Z

Time flies... When you're in a coma!

E-Scapes

2010-12-02T18:06:00.000Z

Inspired by Tuesday's BBC documentary on Edward Muybridge and a solo visit to the Anish Kapoor sculptures in Kensington Gardens, I thought it would be nice to share some of my photographs. The photo's are mainly of landscapes taken mostly with my camera phone when wanderlust has grabbed hold of me and I step outside. I hasten to add I don't profess to being a photographer and completely realise that the real skill in photography is merely identifying a great photo opportunity, usually provided by the muse that is nature.

L'amour c'est L'homme inachevé.

2010-11-26T18:20:00.001Z

If she is a fruit she is mon raison d’etre.

If she is a colour she is my cherie amour.

If she is a rose she is mon petit fleur.

If she is life she is la petite mort.

50 Pearls of WisDom #14

2010-11-25T19:46:00.000Z

"The future is in your hand... Play with your own Squishy." - Andre 3000.

I have lately been buried deep between the pages of the cult classic study The Outsider by Colin Wilson. Which has given me a lot of comforting ideas surrounding the concept of Outsiderness. I'm beginning to assure myself that I am not an egomaniac but instead an existentialist. The realisation that one must be the change that they want in the world is of 'man in the mirror' proportions.

Collage à trois

2010-11-20T10:05:00.000Z

Monday afternoon was spent making a collage with Jack Sargeson. Above is his kick-ass collage which it isn't my position to commentate on. Below is my attempt, which might be called Beneath The Veil which I will dissect like an art critic. The image is intended as a portrayal of East meeting West and the marriage between the two cultures. At the bottom of the image the English defence league hold off angry protesters from getting to the Pakistani man and his child who are wading through Enoch Powells River of blood. In the middle the backdrop is of Smoke on the right and Fire on the left. In the centre is a ghostly bride, symbolizing the marriage and to either side she is being toasted. The meerkat watching on a subtle hint towards borrowing from culture and nod to Alexander the Meerkat. In the red and white tie is new Liverpool owner American John W Henry, an attempt to suggest the American influence on British past times. Big Brother's Makosi poses naked in head dress juxtaposed nicely against the "won't be gagged." of the mob and representative of a removing of morals. Along the top of the image the internal battle is played out as a literal head to head between a group of robots, all the same but for a difference in colour. The big question really is whether or not my intentions were so well thought out when cutting out images that caught my eye, or is again subconsciousness at play and that even I don't know the answer to.

Stasis Update

2010-11-11T12:14:00.002Z

Stasis Update

I am not a big fan of aristocracies.

I am a footballing philosopher, Socrates?

I am in the land of Milk and Honey.

I am in the chamber counting up my money.

I am truly revered by all but one.

I am suffering through the adoration.

I am more self conscious, than I can see.

I am hoping that excuses this poetry.

I am coming to realise I'm not liked by everyone.

I am a geek, more refreshing than Evian.

I am what I eat, what you think is what I drink.

Nah, mi yam what mi eat an' mi mek ah dyam stink.

I am a rebel and a slave "I am Spartacus!"

I am ironically in love with Narcissus.

I am the generator of this type.

I am victim of believing in my own hype.

I am slowly forgetting what I came here for.

I am trying not to love myself no more.

Influencers - Full Version

2010-11-04T00:31:00.001Z

This is my Bag:

Remember Movember

2010-11-02T11:02:00.000Z

It's been a year since my house-mate Jack and I grew some facial foliage for a worthy cause last Movember. It's come round again but we're not participating. Last year my Mo team raised a considerable amount with the help of this video. Please sponsor and support any Mo brothers or Mo sisters that are taking part this year.

1-0 to the Arsenal!

2010-11-01T11:30:00.000Z

My edit of Saturday's 1-0 win over West Ham is on the Official Arsenal website. When I was a boy I could only dream of my life being like this.

For the 12 minute and full match Highlights (also by me.) become an Arsenal TV online member and visit here; http://www.arsenal.com/news/news-archive/35250/tv-online-arsenal-v-west-ham-highlights

Runaway (Film)

2010-10-27T08:15:00.000+01:00

I was somebody until nobody loved me

2010-10-11T20:30:00.001+01:00

Exposed to the harsh realities that;

Beneath this thick skin I am thin.

Underneath this big head, I am small.

And in my eyes I am nothing.

Crippled by an aching sense of sensitivity,

worried no one sees my vulnerability.

I need love.

Mum!

And you may look at me like an oxymoron,

but to be straight with you I must be around you.

So in the Mean Time I’m in London,

living my life simultaneously.

Never playing around with neglect,

because even when she’s gone she’s winning.

Don’t confuse this depression with greatness,

If nobody cares then I am already dead.

The age old science question arises

A case of chemistry, biology and physics:

What happens when an unstoppable force (my hotness)

meets an immovable object? (your royal coldness)

Perhaps I am but a figment of my own imagination?

Valery?!

If you must be dead 30 years to receive a blue plaque

I will be expecting a call from English Heritage soon.

Dominic Walker 1985 -2015: We don’t just give these to anybody,

We give them to nobodies too.

The Barbershop.

2010-10-10T21:43:00.001+01:00

Here's this weeks comic. In 5 parts, click the break jump for the rest.

The Ugly Duckling - By Dominic Walker, 11

2010-10-04T00:58:00.000+01:00

La Muse

2010-09-26T13:10:00.002+01:00

The Muse: "A Poet's Inspiring Goddess." - Oxford Reference Dictionary.
Goddesses of spirits who inspire the creation of literature and the arts.
"A muse-poet falls in love, absolutely, and his true love is for him the embodiment of the muse." - Robert Graves.

The word muse can also mean 'think.' as in thinking of talented, intelligent, beautiful ladies such as; Halle Berry, M.I.A and Françoise Hardy inspires me to be a better man. Just thinking of my Muse can give me an extra surge of strength, intelligence or confidence. A good muse is to the poet as spinach is to Popeye. This week I have been exploring the muses (or the lack of), here is a study of some different muses over time and the artist they inspired:

Gala Dali: Was muse and wife to Salvador Dali. In Salvador's own words "It's mostly with your blood, Gala, that I paint my pictures." He would even sign his work with her name. Gala was born to a family of intellectuals in Russia, her first husband was surrealist poet Paul Eluard but is also said to have been close with many artist including surrealist Andre Breton. Despite being 10 years his senior Gala went on to marry Dali following an affair with the great artist. Dali believed that Gala saved him from certain madness and an early grave. When she died Salvador lost his will to live and the small grasp he had on his sanity. He spent the best part of the rest of his years as a recluse in the castle he decorated in honour of his beloved Gala.

Kathy Etchingham: Hendrix's British muse was a considerate one (A trait that the best muses appear to have in abundance). "You could never predict the next thing he would do. One moment he would be quiet and gentle the next moment he could become a different person." She forgave him his philandering, drug use and bouts of violence for the best part of their relationship, she stated he'd always take the blame on himself afterwards. They lived together in an apartment on Brook Street, the former home of the composer Handel. Hendrix wrote two of his classics Gypsy Eyes and The Wind Cries Mary for Kathy (Mary was her middle name.) the latter depicting the moment Kathy ran away from their apartment following an argument. She remained a great ambassador for Jimi even after their relationship and soon after his life ended, it was Kathy who saw that English Heritage put up a Blue Plaque in his honour.

Edie Sedgwick: She was the epitome of the Poor Little Rich Girl. The tragic muse whose tragic lifestyle ended tragically was an inspiration and muse to Andy Warhol. Warhol was infatuated with her and felt her star power was something he could capitalise on, it seemed for the pop artist she was an orange to be squeezed of all her goodness and disposed of. Legend has it that Bob Dylan recognised Warhol's abuse of the starlet and used it as inspiration for his song Like a Rolling Stone. By the time she died, at just 28 due to drug abuse/misuse, Edie was a shell of the young beauty Warhol had discovered. Though Warhol worked closely with Sedgwick and had her star in a number of the films coming out of The Factory its believed their relationship was never a sexual one. This may not be the case for Bob Dylan and Edie who penned a number of tracks on the album Blonde on Blonde about her. Sedgwick gained her immortality as a muse, with many songs and films created portraying her and her story.

Pattie Boyd: Inspired the songs Something and Layla. A model, actress and photographer with somewhat moderate looks it's rather surprising that she is etched firmly in the headstone of musical folklore. She met her first husband George Harrison, yes of Beatles fame, on the set of A Hard Days Night. George half jokingly asked her to marry him on their first meeting but Boyd rejected his advance until their 2nd meeting on set. Something as well as being one of the best songs of all time is also a Muse anthem with the lyrics "Something in the things she shows me." It was Pattie's interest in Eastern Mysticism that resulted in George being turned on to the Sitar and Indian music. But neglect and the persistence of Harrison's good friend Eric Clapton eventually lead to an affair. The love of Clapton was initially unrequited but this only spurred him on further, causing him to write Layla in a fit of Furor Poeticus and in turn the album Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs (the cover features a blonde in wedding veil.). It was when he managed to convince Pattie to come over to his place and played her Layla that she began to be swayed by Clapton. There was even a Guitar-Battle between Harrison and Clapton that lasted several hours, coming after George began to suspect something was going on, in Boyd's opinion it was believed that Clapton won. When Clapton's partner Paula heard Layla she left the Guitar genius as it was clear it was about Pattie, who by the way was Paula's older sister. Eventually Pattie and Eric were married but this didn't bring an end to the drama only, the relationship ended because of Eric's drink and drug addiction, which had started when Pattie refused him.

Helen of Troy: "The face that launched a thousand ships." Daughter of Zeus believed to be an offer from Aphrodite to Paris of the most beautiful woman in the world. Now here's my interpretation of the tale: Paris visited Sparta as royal guest, where Helen lived with her husband Menelaus. Menelaus had some business to take care of in Crete so left Helen to host, Paris not managing to hold on to himself has relations with Helen and takes her with him to Troy. Menelaus gets back home "Helen, I'm home what's for dinner." and all that jazz, only to find out that Paris had been a treacherous swine and stolen his wife. Menelaus gets all his army and even Helen's Dad's Army together and they sail over to Troy to get Menelaus' girl back, a 10 year war takes place, Paris is killed, God's die and a wooden horse saves the day, Menelaus reclaims his wife and they sail back to Sparta and live happily ever after. The moral of the myth? Never steal another man's muse!

Yoko Ono: So the tale goes that John was turned on to Yoko by an art piece he saw of hers at a private view at the Indica gallery, a hanging magnifying glass and a ladder leading to the letters in small print Y-E-S. The quiet but controlling Yoko was ever so slightly different and John liked this. Yoko was 7 years older than John and many saw the relationship as a manifestation of Johns longing for a matriarch, a role that was missing in his life. Yoko's creative input is strongly believed to be the factor which drove the wedge between The Beatles. Whether or not this is true, I believe she inspired John to create his best work and become more self reflexive. Not much proof is needed to indicate Yoko was Lennon's muse he would even put her name in his songs (See The Ballad of John and Yoko and Oh Yoko!) "in the middle of a dream I call your name. Oh Yoko!" beautiful. John was always open about his love for Yoko, in his music and in interviews. In fact they were as open a couple as you can hope to imagine appearing starkers on the cover of their complementary albums. Yoko most importantly was influential and supportive in his political motivations and was lay beside him during their bed-in peace protest, it was real love.

Linda McCartney: John's other muse was of course Paul McCartney. The pair had something of a sibling rivalry their competitiveness encouraged great song writing. After the breakup of The Beatles (which I'm clearly still trying to get over despite it happening 15 years before I was born.) John wrote some bitter songs about his former Co-Writer with whom he had penned so many classics. Paul was unsurprisingly a lot more diplomatic. He had his own muse, wife Linda. From the day they married Paul and Linda never spent a day apart, excluding Paul's 10 day spell in a Japanese prison. Linda and Paul were a rarity of a married couple that were also best friends. It seems this was a middle of a long and winding road relationship where two 'nice' people fall for one another and write lovely 'twiddly dee' songs. It was Linda who introduced vegetarianism into Paul's life and encouraged him to take on environmental issues. Linda was also a talented photographer and a less talented musician in her partners band Wings.

Catherine Blake: The wife and muse of another genius and mad man William Blake. "I have very little of Mr Blake's company. He is always in paradise." were Catherine's words on Blake's tendency to live within his own head when in the midst or mist of creation. It is of vital importance that a muse stands by an artist even at their most distant and surreal wanderlust of the mind. Catherine stood by her husband who many believed to be insane, when his work wouldn't sell she was beside him at the printing press and she even humoured him when he wanted to recreate Eden in their back garden. In return Blake taught his wife to read and write. Catherine was every bit a part of the production of Blake's art as he was and he even entrusted her to print his poems. When on his deathbed Blake drew an image (above) of his wife and told her "You have ever been an angel to me."

Beyonce Knowles: Modern day beauty, Singer, Dancer, Fashion Designer. Today's muse is in the spotlight more than the artist she inspires. Though in more fairness Jay-Z and Beyonce appear to be one another's muse. Since their relationship became unofficially public, the couple have constantly referred to each other in their music, as well as appearing on each others albums on numerous occasions. Though they still refuse to make their relationship the media's play thing, in public they're always apart together. Beyonce has an attempt at her own muse anthem with her single Upgrade U "It's that little glimpse of light, that makes a diamond really shine." stressing that she can make a good man a better one. Anyway you look at it their careers have sky-rocketed since they joined forces, with Jay-Z fast becoming one of the richest men in America and Beyonce cementing her position in music history.

2010-09-25T21:08:00.000+01:00

2010-09-20T15:23:00.001+01:00

I'm excited by this because I've always wanted to work on a comic. I'm collaborating with Bullyboy Comics on some Comic Strips, this is our first mini effort. You can see more David Coppin art @ http://www.dcoppin.hostei.com/

I was dreamin' when I wrote this forgive me if it goes astray.

2010-09-13T23:54:00.002+01:00

It was just another boring day at my parent’s house. As my folks sat watching the second Emmerdale of the night, I thought I’d take advantage of the good weather and sit under the rarity of a clear London sky. I stepped out the back door into the garden; leaving the folks vegetating on the settee, my sister upstairs on the phone (not) talking to her friends and my brother in his room doing... well whatever it is teenage boys do alone in their room with a laptop all day. I pulled up a garden chair and looked up at the stars. ‘It’s such a one in a million occurrence to have the London skies as clear as this.’ I said to myself, the light pollution and smog hindered the experience somewhat. I looked out across the sky asking myself why I had never seen a shooting star? Then in the distance I noticed an aeroplane moving in a strange jerky motion. It appeared to be flying sideways, I tried to remember if I had read anything in the papers about new plane technology or some forms of transportation and then it began flying closer and I could hear a strange noise, it sounded like that wobbly board that Rolf Harris used to play as an instrument. It didn’t sound like an aeroplane and the closer it got the less it looked like an aeroplane, in fact I was certain it had to be a

‘UFO!’

‘What boy?’ My mother said, (the back door was still open.)

‘I think there’s a U.F.O flying over! I’m sure of it!’

‘What is this nonsense? Where’d you get this boy from?’

‘He came out of you woman!’ Dad responded with razor sharpness. The object got closer, I could see now that it had no lights but yet it was glowing, a big floating Motorbike helmet!

‘Look! Look!! Come out here! Listen!’

‘You’re always saying aeroplanes sound like U.F.O’s, honestly I think you were dropped on your head when you were younger.’

‘What do you mean - think? You know he was!’

‘Shhhhh!!’

‘I really hope that’s a joke.’ I really did.

The U.F.O passed over the house out of sight and my parents didn’t move an inch. Too engrossed in the melodrama of agricultural life. How many times had I wondered if I was born to the wrong family? I’d just witnessed a real life U.F.O, an UFO! Then something unprecedented happened. My eyes roamed into the sky, scanning for any more space creatures from out of outer space. The sky was littered with them!

‘Oh... MY... DAYS!!!’

In my view I could see at least twenty of these Spacecrafts floating about the sky all in varying unique shapes, none of which resembling what we’ve come to associate as aircrafts here on Mother-Earth.

‘Get out here! Get out here NOW!’ There’s loads of the things! I swear on my mothe...’ pause ‘I swear on MY life! There are U.F.O’s everywhere!’

‘Just a minute.’

‘Just a minute?’ I gasped to myself dumbfounded.

‘All right commercial break. What’s all this rubbish then?’ My parents had finally freed themselves from the evils of the armchair and joined me outside.They looked around.

‘What?’ Asked Dad.

‘What do you mean: “What?” Look in the sky!’ My Mum and Dad arched their necks back in unison, seeing with their own eyes the spectacle, their mouths both dropping in awe.

‘They must be shooting a film!’

‘One of those Sci-Fi ones. Must be big budget.’

I don’t remember the exact moment when I realised I was more intelligent than my parents, it’s a harrowing moment for any child, it probably occurred at far too young an age in my case, 7 perhaps.

‘Are you actually taking the piss?!?’

‘What’s all this commotion about?’ My brother interrupted.

‘Rich! Finally someone with a brain cell. Look around.’

‘U.F.O’s’

‘Yeah!’

‘Lot’s of them.’

‘Yep!’

‘That’s really odd.’

‘Thank you!’ Before I had the chance to kiss my brother for having an ounce of sanity, a package fell from the sky and landed in the garden. We each looked at one another twice. Eventually I turned to Rich.

‘What should we do?’

‘Well we should call the authorities or something... But I vote we open it.’

‘Oh I wonder what’s in it. It could be from the film!’ For an intelligent woman my Mother was real stupid.

‘From now on you two will speak when you’re spoken to all right?’ My parents begrudgingly nodded in agreement to our new pact. I returned my attention to Rich the question remained: who was going to be the child nominated to open the package? I asked:

‘So you’re going to open it right?’

‘What, I’m not opening it.’

‘But it was your idea.’

‘Exactly!’

‘What do you mean exactly? You open it! You’re supposed to be the intelligent one!’

‘What so now you're too stupid to open a package? Anyway you're the athletic one! I believe this is in your jurisdiction.’

‘What’s all this bang bang business, ah g’wan?’ My sister interrupted in faux patois.

‘Jelissa!! Why’s she speaking like that Rich?’

‘That’s how she talks now.’

‘Eergh, chattin’ bout me like I’m not even here you know... My stupid brothers... They’re so neeky!’

‘Who the heck is she talking too?’

‘I’m on the phone!’

‘No you’re not!’

‘Hands Free!’ Said the rest of my family at once.

‘Ohhh.’ I realised.

‘Dickhead!’

‘What's that!? I’m old-school Jelissa, I’ll wash your mouth out with soap!’

‘I was talkin’ to my friend not you!’ I looked upon my sister with slanted judgemental eyes. Suddenly I was distracted by a beam of light shining down on the package. Attached to the beam of light a U.F.O.

‘Oi look out your window. Some next madness is going on outside. I gotta change my facebook status.’

‘Is she talking to me now?’

‘Laters neek!’

'Oi!' And with that rather strange cameo my sister was off.

I looked into the spotlight and decided it was then or never. If all the world was a stage, then the spotlight was where the important scenes took place and all the other actors are our audience. I suspected it was true that Hero’s aren’t born they’re made and I had always felt I was something of a hero, something special about me set me apart from the rest of layman society. It was my time to prove it:

‘All right! I’ll get the package.’

‘Are you crazy?’ Said my Dad. Words weren’t necessary, I pointed towards my parents and waggled my finger, indicating to them to button their cake holes. Rich interjected.

‘No I think Dad’s right. We should just leave it. I mean there’s a U.F.O directly above it now. It could do anything.’

‘Don’t try and change my mind. This is my moment, I can feel it.’ And off I stomped towards the package and my spotlight. I kneeled in the glow and began unwrapping the package. Then I looked up at the Spacecraft, a beam came shooting towards me. A sort of electron beam and at once I was vaporized the atoms of my person split into a billion individual segments. Silence.

‘Nooooooooo Not my Baby!!’

‘Well I didn’t see that coming.’

‘My Baby, My Baby!’

‘Well if you don’t listen you will feel. At least they got the rubbish one. Poor Mum's in bits.’

‘She’s not the only one.’

‘My poor poor beloved first born!’

‘It’s like I’m always saying to you boys: don’t stand under the beam of a U.F.O’s ray or you’ll get vaporized, but do you listen?...No.’

‘What? I’ve never once heard you say that!’

‘My little Boy! Gone! Whhyyyy?!!’

‘I’ve been saying it since you were knee hight to a grasshopper.’

‘I think I would remember that advice Dad, it’s not exactly the kind you hear every day.’

‘My Baby!!! Nooooooooooo, please whyyy?? Not my little Boy!! My... Oh Emmerdale’s back on. Richard make me a tea.’

Wall-to-Walker

2010-09-09T14:13:00.005+01:00

I’d like a chat Wall-to-Walker

with my Grandpa Walter Walker.

I hear they called you “Steady” Steadman

Hey, I wonder if we would be Bredwrin.

You kept out the breadline with carpentry

and now I’m in your line of ancestry,

which doesn’t solve my Jesus complex

but sort of gives my life some context.

I want a word or two about Dad

Just what was he like as a lad?

Oh and there’s Great Grandpappy too.

Do I walk the way the Walkers do?

It’s refreshing to see, not too many wrinkles.

Turns out, from you I get my dimples.

Another question, this one’s slightly weird.

Umm, about the red hairs in my beard...

and the light green in my sisters eyes

and why’s my brother sort of white?

You see climbing up the Family Tree,

this Richard Anderson doesn’t look like me.

There are some things you just can’t hide.

Admit it!! I’m Scottish aren’t I?

Hey it’s cool I had the chance to meet ya

holidaying when you clocked your meter

From here in Peckham to Portland, J.A

In the 4th dimension condensed to a day.

Just thought I’d say; I’ll see you soon.

Well... you know... not too soon.

Fee Fi Fo Fum

2010-09-09T14:13:00.004+01:00

Arrogance

2010-09-01T01:32:00.004+01:00

Arrogance: (Websters Dictionary Definition.) The act or quality of taking much upon one's self; that species of pride which exist in exorbitant claims of rank, dignity, estimation or power, or which exalts the worth of importance of the person to an undue degree; proud contempt of others; conceitedness; presumption.

It's frowned upon by most, despised by the media and almost certainly not a quality one is supposed to admire. So why then do I see arrogance in those I respect the most? To me arrogance and cool are entirely intertwined and multiplied when combined with success. There's something, I believe, to be admired in someone who talks the talk then walks the walk. To raise your bar even higher and to then go on to accomplish when people want you to eat humble pie, I think should be respected. At my least censored I consider myself to be arrogant, I have a superiority complex I'm all to aware of, which only adds to my belief that nobody can tell me about myself. It's not that I think I'm more equal than the next man, I just feel I'm closer to my own personal potential. In polite society I am encouraged to curb my egotism. But it's usually in my case when I have the least going for me, that I am at my most arrogant, it is a safety cushion of confidence. Perhaps it's not a coincidence my favourite public figures also share this trait which is so often discouraged. I have decided to create an ode to the gesticulations and ambassadors of Arrogance. My Gallery of Arrogance (Remember to check out more by clicking the extended link);

"It's hard to be humble when you're as great as I am."

"I'm still the motherf***er you'd love to hate, but can't because you love what I make."

"I'm not one from the bottle, I am a special one."

"No one I think is in my tree."

"When I step on the pitch, when I have the ball, I know it's mine. It's just a feeling."

"When an actor plays a scene exactly the way the director orders, it isn't acting. It's
following instructions. Anyone with physical qualifications can do that."

"I just blew my mind and blew the worlds mind."

"Each morning when I wake up I experience again a supreme pleasure -
That of being Salvador Dali"

"Anyone who lives within their means suffers from a lack of imagination."

"Ridicule is the burden of genius."

"Even back then I exuded self-confidence and that drives women crazy."

"When the Seagulls follow the trawler, it's because
they think Sardines will be thrown."

"What Washington needs is Adult Supervision."

I'm adamant that we're developed in our youth and everything after that is just honing.
This is a poem I loved when I was at primary school and still today.

Yesterday's Tomorrow Today: Hot Models in 3D!

2010-08-31T13:51:00.001+01:00

Miranda Kerr may well be the best looking woman in the world. Here she is on the front cover of Vogue in all 3Dimensions. Which is great if you have a pair of 3D glasses! Of course this is Vogue so it's arty and in no means seedy, admire the quality:

Yesterday's Tomorrow Today: Glowing Bikes

2010-08-26T21:55:00.004+01:00

I think someone needs to do a "I have a friend you'd love." style introduction for these two companies. Their babies would be well sexy. The Egg-Heads at Teague have created this concept for a glow in the dark Pulse frame with indicator lights shining out of the handles. Meanwhile the Brainiacs at Cyglo have created these rather impressive glow in the dark LED tyres. Imagine if they got together, what a Tron looking uber cool product that would be (yes I used uber... No its not 2003). What we're potentially looking at here is both attractive and completely practical! It poses the question why hasn't it happened already and why isn't everything on the road night-glow?

Cyglo Tyre

Teague

Here's the song I hear in my head when I'm cycling. Particularly if I'm listening to it at the time. Kid Cudi Switchin Lanes. Take notes Boris this is the stuff that makes me want to cycle, in fact makes me want to cycle right now:

Misfits

2010-08-26T21:05:00.000+01:00

Just finished watching Series 1 of E4's Misfits. I'm now a fan. Just when I'd all but given up on television along comes a refreshing well written, well acted show. Check it out on 4oD like I did http://www.channel4.com/programmes/misfits/4od Series 2 starts later this year. (Pay me)

2010-08-25T19:58:00.000+01:00

Ceelo Green - F*** You

2010-08-22T22:05:00.000+01:00

My First Publication - Walker's Column

2010-08-15T11:53:00.000+01:00

I had an article published in the South London Press last week, it's the first time such a thing has happened. I guess I can actually call myself a writer now, although I subscribe more to the Bukowski school of thought that "There's no such thing as a writer only an ex-writer." I can't actually bring myself to read the article because I hate the way I shoe-horned in the Brando quote, but I hope you'll enjoy it if you missed it. Perhaps I went for a bad choice of mugshot as well. Below is what I actually submitted and I've just noticed they've changed stuff around a bit:

“What are you rebelling against?”

“What have you got?”

The immortal Marlon Brando line from the film the Wild One sums up the sense of rebellion about the air from young South-Londoners. Following on from an election where young Londoners were forced to accept a government they didn’t want after voting in their droves against Conservatives. Now more than ever there is a sense of positive rebellion amongst my peers in the 18-30 age brackets. I believe young people today are aware there has been a breakdown in community spirit and we’re taking on the responsibility of rebuilding it ourselves. One case study is the Camberwell Village Hall campaign, a campaign to have the sold Gala Bingo renovated into a communal art space that can serve all the community rather than a church to serve only one religious denomination (coincidently a very similar scheme is occurring in Crystal Palace). The support for this cause has been exemplary and it’s helped by modern communication (at the time of writing this the Facebook group has 3’244 followers). Raising funds to buy the private property was always going to prove difficult but public demand has meant that local MP Harriet Harman has become involved in trying to find a solution. Much of the support coming from students at Camberwell College of Arts, who have been prominent in re-establishing the community spirit in and around Camberwell, with groups such as Focus 23 and Lucky PDF hosting self promoted and funded events showcasing the rich pool of creative talent in the area. With the internet bringing the world closer together and increasing the interest in politics, this generation are successfully beginning to realise change comes from the bottom up and are taking matters into their own hands rather than waiting for others.

Brit FM

2010-08-10T18:05:00.000+01:00

I submitted two articles to The South London Press a fortnight ago, they decided to print one which you can see in this weeks issue (Out Now) below is the other, in my opinion slightly better.

There is tendency to tarnish all the “youth of today” with the same brush; inconsiderate, rude, violent and lazy. I've just spent a rewarding week as a mentor at The Brit School for performing arts, Croydon, where the students there confirmed what I had thought all along: young people are victims of gross generalisations and an often false reputation precedes them. The Brit kids hosted their annual live FM broadcast Brit FM. I’m a graduate of the school myself and know firsthand the privilege of attending the UK’s only free to enter performing arts school. Other than the realisation that I’m no longer a seventeen year-old at twenty-five I’m now a generation away: it was great to be back at my old college and around young people who were enthusiastic about their education. The Brits hasn’t lost any of its ability for selecting; cool, talented, energetic kids. The experience the students gain from running their own live radio broadcast is second to none. Many of the facilities available to the students are state of the art. The Brit school gives an opportunity to talented students, some of whom simply couldn't afford to attend another school of this ilk. That’s why it’s so refreshing to see appreciation shown through; good manners and respect towards tutors. I suspect this is why there’s always a buzz of excitement through the halls and a spring in their step of the youngsters.

Next year marks the schools 20^th anniversary, in those two decades a multitude of UK and world superstars have learned their trade at the college. The buildings have been recently refurbished and new extensions built meaning even more space for students to utilise. For future students, most reassuringly, it remains an engaging educational environment and one of south London’s finest institutes.

Also if you have time take a little listen to my appearance on the History Show. Can you appear on Radio? I can't believe how much of a geek I am and I despise my nervous laughter, I'm going to change my entire life.

Latest tracks by dr_decca

Yesterday's Tomorrow Today: Diamond Lights

2010-08-10T11:29:00.000+01:00

Here's a bright idea from Eric Therner. These will be available at the London Design Festival 18-26 of September.