Tag Archives: books

The Space Race

Standing in space. Wide open away from any barrier, wall, manmade or natural object. Humans have a strange desire to be next to or under something. Taking a pee by a lonely tree. Creating an arch for your wedding, framing the lovely couple within the view. Grounding them. Why not have the wide expanse of the Arizona Desert rolling out before you, untethered, unleashed. But you take a picture by the only cactus within 20 miles. There needs to be a prop. Something to contextualise your presence on earth. Which makes it all the more bizarre that we seem so obsessed with travel into space. Space Twitter or X as it is now called. Putting the first people on the moon in 1968 then just waiting around until 2030 until we do it again. Apollo disasters halting any idea of mass migration to outer space. Elon Musk and Trump hoping to control the planet by regulating the space all around. They will charge us to breathe air before you know it. There is a fascination to searching the solar system, looking for likeminded inhabitants. So far though no one has turned up, except perhaps the clangers, trumpeting around with almost discernible presence. A fascination to look on where we all reside from a vantage point, from above, all trying to be gods, what an unbelievable waste of time and money. Fools fantasy. The planet is dying, yes, but rather than rush for the escape pod then surely it needs some TLC. People need help. Not some hair brained multi trillion dollar experiment. Imagine what you could do with the money. Applying for some small creative arts funds takes weeks of your life, jumping through ever decreasing hoops until you are squeezed by a Boa Constrictor. Review after review then your bid is deemed worthy of submission. Weeks of waiting, heart beating faster when any email pings into your inbox with the message “the quality of applications was very high…..”. And then, oh sorry you haven’t been successful this time. Please resubmit though, changing all your budget forecasts and being more realistic with your project aims. Be more realistic. Blimey. Fortunes are being spent propelling people into other orbits. You want me to be more realistic and less arty? Space travel is the ultimate rich persons folly. Pure art. Pointless. An inevitable outcome of greed and power searching. Can’t we just be happy in our communities rather than trying to form a space station on the boiling mess that is Mars. I mean a Mars a day helps you work, rest and dream of flying into the great beyond. Refugees, fleeing war torn nations battle across lands, rejected and looked down upon before reaching waters edge, crammed into flimsy life or death rafts, desperate for a life on earth. Do their kids wonder about life on mars, do they look at the moon and wish they could set foot on it or do they just wish for a safe place. Home. Not under siege. A place where they can exist. Not heading to some otherworldly final frontier but to real end points. Spaces to live within. A tree.

Manekins who I see as humans, in a shop window

Blank Canvas

So for any people out there interested in creativity, especially within music, my first book, Blank Canvas, is available from Intellect Books. Remarkably good value for a book that straddles academic and commercial values. Lots of info from creative artists including Brian Eno, Pauline Black, Gavin Bryars, Barry Adamson, Roy Ascott, Gina Birch, Gaye Advert etc…..

https://www.intellectbooks.com/blank-canvas

Multiple Books


I read a series of books at the same time, flicking from one to the other, diving into the underground life of music, philosophy, fantasy, reality, fact or fiction. I have books for various times of days. Mornings are for writing, afternoons evenings for reading. I flitter, float about. The later the day becomes the more that fiction seems to resonate. Gently moving from theory to fantasy. I have books dotted around my house. A stolen moment here to pick up writing on Western Philosophy. A yoga manual perched by the sink in my bathroom, stood on one leg brushing my teeth. The shelf in my study contains all that music and culture information, books I have read and can constantly go back to, dive in again to remember sections or reacquaint with nuggets of information. Just by looking at the sleeve of a book and taking time to think, I can transport myself back in time, a tardis of information that is lodged somewhere in my brain waiting to be unleashed again. My living room contains a mixture, from magazines, journal, novels and more playful academic studies. Also books for guests. Ones other we have loved or those that haven’t quite resonated that passing people might grab hold of and take on their travels. A couple of books sit on my bedside table, again sliding from fact to fiction, generally combining both. Ways of supporting transference from daily life into dream states. There are patterns through everything. I find it difficult to watch TV without also reading at the same time, my brain not satisfied with just one form of stimulation but wanting to switch between states, multiple stories occurring at the same time. Most people also flick through their phones while watching TV, not content just to sink into one medium. I always feel better turning the blue screens off and sinking into a book, airplane mode, sat on the sofa, concentration honing in on just the one story, my mind switching off from reality. I find libraries both beautiful and scary. Overwhelmed by the enormous amount of information, again peering at sleeves to imagine what is inside each book. Trying to suck the information from the pages into my brain. Auto transference. Like the other Dr Strange I can raise my arms at the entrance to a library and suck the information of multiverses straight into me.

I love books

They provide sustenance for the soul

A quiet space of reflection away from the maddening din of life.

They review lives and define our current times

So many people write books, millions out there although the process is such a painstaking and difficult thing to complete. An achievement. A marathon.

Writing a book comes from deep inside, the extraneous moments eradicated by the moment of action

Writing a book is the pleasurable moment, like making music it transports you 

There is a cleanliness where your mind and body have been stripped bare, laid out on parchment

I love the smell of new books, that deep fresh aroma, possibilities ahead but new books are clogging up the earth. There are so many already out there that surely we can find what we are looking for in the already created. The Booker Prize longlists from years gone past. I get defeated by fiction. So many authors that dazzle in front of my eyes but so few who really resonate. The Love Songs of WEB Du Bois the most affecting from the last few years, a deep dive into Black American histories through a structure that follows lineage, connects ancestors with the current day. A book you can live within, become immersed in unfamiliar and known worlds. Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver I found less engaging, some memorable sections but overall it seemed to drag along. Exploring addiction from a voice that seems slightly detached and unknowing, an academic and detached version of events.

The same as The Bee Sting, another lauded book for its clever time travelling experience but surely it could be told more effectively. I am trudging through the Irish forests waiting for it all to come together. Increasingly I find it more difficult to engage, to find the works that resonate so it’s probably time to visit the classics. Homers Odyssey, 1984, DeLillo etc…For some reason I love Rachel Cusk. I suppose she is talking directly to me. I understand her worlds. Her books aren’t too long, they take you on a dreamy trip through the world of literature, the writer uncovered. So really I want to read books about worlds I would like to inhabit, the literary festivals, country houses by the sea, a life of creation and discussion.

The bookshelf in my studio showing the current books I am reading

World Book Day

7th March is world book day, the opportunity for all those with young children to spend hours scrabbling around to try and match up to their neighbours attempts, whilst the kids hope they wont be too embarrassed by it all. What fun. Like National Women’s Day or Record Store Day or Black History Month, these are all worthy concepts, supporting better lives for all. Really, though, everyday should be World Book Day. Everyday should be equality of opportunity for all day. One Day should be watched every day.

In supporting the adult focus to WBD then please have a look at my first book, Blank Canvas, soon to be followed by Creative Spheres, deep, playful, anarchic, experimental and entertaining explorations of popular culture, with creativity centrally placed.

Now time to dress up as my favourite cultural icon …..

An early picture of Brian Eno at Watford Art College, London

A fresh looking Brian Eno at Watford Art College (Mid 1970s)

https://www.intellectbooks.com/blank-canvas