short stories, comment, articles, humour and photography
You wake up in the middle of a nightmare only to realise you’re living in one. Suddenly, you’re part of the crisis that’s been playing out on TV and social media for the past few months. Up to that point, you’ve been viewing it as little more than a disaster movie. However real the anxiety and concern you experienced, you were still just a member of the audience. Without anyone asking, now you’re a reluctant bit player in a film noir production that’s bound to end badly. One of those anonymous grey extras you’ve been watching on news bulletins each morning, hurrying across a deserted town square in desperate search of a mask, or the last toilet roll, as a flap of grey pigeons launch into the sky. When did my memory morph into monochrome? You’re wondering if you’ll be in the last reel. You want to be one the survivors. You need a look at tomorrow’s script in advance, to see if you reach home before the invisible zombies get you. It’s not nearly as thrilling as the Hollywood version. The fear is tangible but nowhere near overwhelming. The knowledge you can’t get out up from your seat and leave, gnaws at your intestines, rather than grabs you by the throat. All the time you tell yourself, I have to get used to it.
Angelica and I didn’t panic when it was decreed that the art market would be closed till March 30th. When news of home confinement came, neither of us plunged into the depths of depression we easily might have. Even though it was on a completely different level, artists get used to masking their true feelings at hearing bad news. Your heart sliding to the pit of your stomach is part of the job description. If anything, a sort of numbness took hold, an absence of real emotion, as our minds struggled to come to terms with things like the vastly increased possibility of dying before we won the lottery, and the reality of the nation having been transformed into virtual police state with the wave of a government truncheon.
Gradually, as we were made more and more aware of the strict measures that were being taken, a fluffy blanket of false security enveloped us in its warmth. Nevertheless, however nicely they tried to frame it, the stark reality soon dawned that our governments were leaving us to fend for ourselves. The bit they left out is why. Allow me to fill it in. What it boils down to is that they completely forgot to factor into account all too predictable crises. You have to understand that there are far more important considerations to prioritise than setting aside provisions for the great unwashed. After all, we’re talking about something that may never happen. Okay, in this case it did. But you have to stop thinking about yourself all the time and look at it from their point of view. For instance, who would prop up failed banks time and time again, or haemorrhage taxpayer’s cash into crashing global stock markets, if they didn’t do it? And does it ever occur to you who else would bomb poverty-stricken nations into the dirt to access their mineral resources if western governments didn’t help each other to do it? I can go on. It all costs money. To put it more simply, there’s no pie left, we thought you’d all eaten.
Daily Writings About The End Of Illusions
To write about my memories, past and present
An exploration into understanding the complexities of the Chemical Age, the Synthetic Chemical Revolution, and the toxins that impact us all
Singer / Songwriter / Writer / Outsider / Poet / Photos / Collecting Life's Strange Things ...and a Book For Sale
Une fois. Encore.
Public interest issues, policy, equality, human rights, social science, analysis
Hold your verve
More Coyotes than Wolves
My journey into sketching and drawing in and around Jimena de la Frontera, Andalucia