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Posts tagged ‘Freedom to Write’

Let’s Get Out of Here

Thousand Words – Or Thirty Minute Essay – No editing the article is written in free-flow – Grammar Nazis can jump the lemming cliff 👺

Let’s Get Out Of Here – Follow the Inner Being

One of my favourite writers is Samantha Crystalcats. She use’s words like knives to cut through a tough meat satire or spread Jersey double cream on a strawberry scone love story. I love talking to Sam about writing. She puts my thought’s into perspective, and this seems to open my mind to greater creative possibilities.

Samantha visited the shop with her son, the actor Alex Marlowe. While Liz and Alex were chatting about crystals, birthdays and university: I took the opportunity to mention I’d removed most of my titles from Kindle. I answered the question ‘why?’ with the truth: ‘Samantha they are crap’, and that ended the conversation on culling the Kindle library.

Keep Away From The Crowds

I asked her opinion:

“Sam, I’m writing a book about my thoughts on sixty years of life. It’s as nasty as mugger with a rusty cut-throat razor. Full of fucks and bastards and as caustic as a soda bath. But do you know? It is the best thing I’ve typed for years’.

Samantha observed: ‘You know when something is good, Ian. As we age, we discover the intuition is a good guide; it’s the advantage of accumulated years. I find accumulated wisdom helps us see the idiots and not care about their opinion or acts: I want to be left alone to do as I please. Write as you like, in the way you choose.’

‘Yes, but it contains ten’s of expletives. And I worry about the readers’.

‘You are not listening to my answer; you wouldn’t be writing in this style unless your creative self wanted to express something from the heart. How do you know you’ll not appeal to a new and more interesting audience? Why not write as you like and in the way you choose?’

Samantha reinforced the first rule of creating artistic work: we must follow the inner self, the output must be an interpretation of our thoughts. There is no doubt in her message: writing or creating from other people’s perspective produces stale work. My friend is right; one has to write from the true-self. Adapting one’s thoughts to please other people will not work.

My notebook is my thought net. One evening the jottings were focussed on success. So deep went the meditations and note-taking I was still awake at three. A realisation was every time I’d made decent money and enjoyed success; my attitude was mean and unforgiving. In fact, during prosperous times, I couldn’t give a fuck about anyone’s opinion. I followed my intuition, even if the conscious mind said ‘no’ I went with the creative idea.

I now see as time slipped by, I’d compromised my creative mind, personality and inner-being and attempted to fit in with social protocols. As a result, my inner-being became unhappy and discordant. Drink and anger became the mask. Those I knew lived with the hell of my weakness and frustrations. In the end, everything collapsed. Is the conclusion it’s better to follow gut feeling than the opinion of others? I’d say from my perspective; the answer is ‘Yes’.

Furthermore, I’m convinced if the inner-being is unhappy, it will sabotage everything we do. It will encourage failure and destruction of relationships, doing anything to free itself from living within situations it hates. Unhappy relationship? Do some people have an affair: Unhappy at work? Fuck it up. Are you dissatisfied with life? Drink and eat yourself to death. There is a memory of a psychiatrist friend telling me most addicts are committing acceptable suicide. And there could be truth in the idea.

Freedom’s an Empty Cage

It seems to me self discovery is an essential aspect to living a happy and successful life. Another point of happiness is by choosing carefully those chosen as friends and companions. Understanding relationships with people can only work if we understand or know ourselves. I work better with like-minded people

I’d be a poor friend to a drug dealer or addict. There would be no use in me attending a party given by religious sects. Dialogue with a spiritual guru or a disciple will come to nought. Talk to me about media, writing, organising special events, photography and video production, and my inner creative being comes alive. Talk about public events and shows and community-based organisations, and my being becomes a honey bee, gathering ideas to take to a hive of ideas.

I’m convinced individuals who understand their life purpose. And learn the methods needed to attain the goal will be happy. It may take years to fulfil the inner need but climbing the mountain is always more complicated than standing at the summit. And only when the mountain is conquered do we see how arduous the journey. I have always loved photography and creativity; today, these tools are ninety-nine per cent of my income.

When I am putting together a 13000-word show guide for an event we are organising, the skills involved are writing and collating the document. I will print one-thousand guides and take great satisfaction in seeing people reading it during the show. Before the shows, we have produced videos and tens of articles about our Well Being Shows. And I know visitors come through the doors because of my endeavour.

At the event, I will take hundreds of photographs, audio record and video tens of interviews. In the following weeks, this media will be used to promote our future shows. I like to think my creative mind has accomplished a great awareness of the business we have created. Most important is if my inner-being is asked ‘are you happy?’ The inner reply is a feeling of wellbeing and accomplishment.

We Are Not Equal

Why Not?

Why Not?

I read about the death of Jonah Lomu the New Zealand rugby player with interest.  I cannot write I have sadness as I did not know him.  His manager commented “The world will be a poorer place without him”  Will it?  I hope not.  Surely the world will be a better place because of the influence his career and life has had upon those who desired to follow his path, in a sport he and they love?

Its tough to face the truth when looking at difficult emotional situations.  I watched a friends four year death, Sam’s fortitude was an inspiration to any one who saw her valiant fight. I remember a friend who lost her three year old child in a Christmas Eve car accident, the memory of the white coffin cannot be erased. I felt a emotional heartache on those occasions, for the rugby player there is nothing. I am careful not to follow a tide of opinion which overwhelms the reality of the situation.  Its seems to me there are many who believe one has to show grief, almost as if the display of emotions is imagined to be the right thing to do. And by doing ‘the right thing’ one conforms to the requirements of society. I do not wish to be a conformist. I wish to live within my truth.

So why don’t we have a world wide and public display of grief for every child killed by the drones bomb? Is the sacrifice of the child in the pursuit of freedom and civilisation justified by the bombing? One could argue it is if we learn by it. The essay could end here if I continued with this string of thought.  Let me turn it around.

Real Sacrifice - Real Lessons

Real Sacrifice – Real Lessons

In the TV Show CSI Miami the detectives says ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ – Now everyone says ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ Are they?  Do I want a sorrowful police officer investigating my friends murder?  No, I do not! I would like a clear minded non emotional, intelligent investigator to bring the criminal to justice. I remember being interviewed by two so called police officers many years ago.  Their personal feelings came into play during the interview.  I could tell neither one liked me, my educated mind was a match for their bull like methodology and I’m certain they would have found a way to charge me with the crime if my alibi had not been so water tight.  These two hero’s of justice had an effect, as even today I’m unable to trust the police. ‘I’m sorry for you’re loss’ It reminds me of the two spiteful comedians who did more to propagate crime than solve it. I do not believe the sentiment. In the same way I do not feel I have to be sorry for the death of a stranger. Its nothing to do with conformity.  Its everything to do with my personal integrity.

An unknown man or woman dies the family and friend grieve. Is the unknown loss less important than the public bereavement?  When a celebrity dies many grieve.  Statements like ‘The world will be worse off without him’  ‘She will never be replaced’  ‘One of the most inspiring actresses who ever stood on a stage’  How is this relevant to the tens of thousands who mourn them? Who or what is the ‘star’ to the ‘stranger’ fan?  A clear minded reader may know the answers.

There is but one death there is no certainty after the final breath. We are certainly remembered for our lives and how we lived them.  The reality is NOW, this moment, this life, this journey.  To contemplate that there is anything other than ones personal reality seems to me to be a time wasting exercise.  When Amy Winehouse died, I did not think, ‘What a tragedy’ I though,’What a fool’.  I do not need to understand the whys of her addiction.  If the opportunity arrives to talk to an addict I would use the singers death as an example ‘Look drug and drink abuser this is the real possibility, there is no fame in this woman’s death only a lesson for you to learn’ Compassion? For a drunken addict? Not in my reality.  Are we born equal?  Well, I do not wish to be on the level of fools who had everything and abused the privilege.

The artist reveals his imagination through his images.  Placing a man in the scene where there was non.  Painting a woman’s face with hypnotic eyes. A cubic family in Rubic like unsolvable puzzle of colours. An astute viewers mind wonders about what the artist is portraying. Often the artists work is exposing, even betraying the inner mind and the artist who does not have to think about how to express his ‘world‘ is often the one who excels. Do the most powerful creators of visual and vocal expression thrive upon intuition? I believe they do. Do the great creators concern themselves with technique? Not as much as one would think. What is worth considering is the artists mind is a cannibal cooking pot.  It has to be because he or she will often consume the ‘normal’ ideas, ideals, morals, beliefs and protocols of his fellow humans.

Turn life into a story…

Jack Lewis cried as he listen to the news.  Jack remembered watching the player in the final between his country and the opposing team. He’d hated the six footer as he had been instrumental in his countries defeat. On the way home that day Jack’s inner being had been awakened.  His hate had turned to admiration and then adoration. He now understood the warrior, the soldier, the hero. His life had changed because of a man he would never meet.

Jack read every book he could about the warrior.  His bedroom walls were covered in framed posters and photographs of this one man.  The images had to be framed, blue tac or tape would be an insult to the status of this god of the game.  These images were blurred through his tears and his emotions had turned to anger, just as they did when his mother died.  Only this time, the anger would become explosive, a volcano about to erupt.

He made it to work and he did not like the way San Verit looked at him. He’d never got on with that bastard. Jack and his hero had exercised every day, keeping fit, eating the right food, training to win.  No, not together, Jack knew the player would never know him, but his personal fitness was a spiritual connection to the man who lived on the other side of the planet.  And that bastard San Verit with his drug taking, girl abusing, lazy waste of life abused every second of his existence.  Jack could see Verit was pleased to see him in the pain of grieving for his hero.

“Sorry for your loss Jack”  What did the bastard just say? Jack looked at the skinny addicted wimp.  “Sorry for your loss Jack”  Did he see a sneering lift at the corner of his mouth? Verit walked between the rows of racking.  Nine, one ton pallets of soda crystals in each section.  His foot pressed on the pedal of his yellow Caterpillar forklift, he would be careful not to be in the view of the warehouse cameras.  The forks sliced through the securing bolts at the bottom of the racking post and he knew how a lumberjack felt as the tree wavered just before it tumbled to the ground. Verit would be taken down to where he belonged.

The waster died exactly one hundred and eighty seconds after being crushed by the racking and the soda. Jack knew it was one hundred and eighty seconds because he counted as the teenager died in his arms.  At the inquest the verdict was accidental death, the coroner recommended the company should be fined for its lack of safety standards.  Outside of the court Jack walks slowly over to the weeping mother and whispers “I’m sorry for your loss”.

The Writer Uses Everything He See's

The Writer Uses Everything He See’s

Is man born equal?  I doubt it.  We can look up to or down upon those around us.  The beliefs of superiors or inferiors prove the inequality.  The artist, writer, songwriter, photographer cares nothing for status.  The artist will take advantage of news, sorrow, pain, ways of life, ways of death. The creator must take advantage of everything which enters his or her mind. And with concentration without effort (intuition) will expose their inner being.

Discipline – A Difficult Act in a Hard World


A few paragraphs from my soon to be published book ‘Twenty Though’s Two’

Light In Darkness

Light In Darkness

Discipline – A Difficult Act in a Hard World

After writing there comes a time when the ideas are re-read.  Within the re-reading I learn about myself and on occasion have changed the way I think about certain subjects. No doubt my opinions are hard, callous, caustic. Being part of an inhuman race has made me this way. Its not that I do not see good in some people.  There seems to be a meanness in the majority. I’ve been duped more than a few times, misjudged many who I thought were nice and turned out to be frauds.  Nothing more than consummate actors playing the illusion of life to perfection.  I’ve seen the fraudulent ways of these devils and I find it difficult to trust without really getting to know someone. Indeed I feel its often not worth the effort to bring new people into my life. I am frustrated with the sycophantic nature of the human condition. Deception runs deep in societies hierarchy. It is this intentional deception, used to empower those at the top of the poison ivy which concerns me and the ability of so many to follow them and their lies leads me to mistrust those I do not know. The evidence is the voter knows the politician lies and deceives and still votes for them! The lack in discipline and weakness of the majority of humans is the paradox. Believing they are free within their slavery. And voting for false promises prove their ineptitude to make sensible choices.

Forgiveness is not a piece in the jigsaw puzzle of my character.  Be clear, my contempt for illusionist deceivers is so deep there is no desire understand them or forgive them. In truth they are greedy, evil and contemptuous, I see through these fraudsters, I wish I could have done so in my earlier years.  Anyone who has hurt me, even if I am the source of the hurt, will never be forgiven for the pain and damage done to my emotions.  Once I would have said I was damaged, hurt and angry.  Now I have no concern for any other than myself.  I ask for nothing and I’ll give nothing. My previous generosity was seen as weakness and I know I was once laughing stock.  My remaining years are built on a fortress of hard earned wisdom and make no mistake I would pour boiling oil on any who attempt to impinge upon my wellbeing. Strange thing is ‘silence’ is the scalding defence.

It’s the way of many a human living the lieThe illusion is the need to be seen as nice, good, thoughtful, good parent, hard worker, savvy with money, building for the future, social conformist.  I accept these ideals will work for many families and individuals as long as they are within the ‘dream’.  Yes, people say ‘I’m living the dream’. If it’s a dream it’s unreal.  What of the failures? And there are many of them. What cost?  The broken relationships, children running wild, turning feral, adultery, bigotry, lies, theft, smugness, greed, pain, cruelty, tears, these examples and what they represent are hidden behind some facades of happiness.  The hammer of experience continues to strike the anvil of life and it will break or mould the human.  Conform the human.  Beat the human into the requirements of the social system. Or will the human’s metal fracture under the process?

If I’d known why and how malicious and dangerous the human being can be when I was younger and not seen only the good in man, my life would have been a heaven, not the hell once lived in.  Friendships and relationships, were sinking ships, people walked all over me, took advantage with a Fagin smile.  If I’d known the truth, the real truth, I would have worked in bars, travelled the world, taken pictures and written books.  Marriage, relationships, family?  No, these are contracts I should not have signed or become part of.  Commitment to people is not one of my greatest strengths. I am cynic and now trust very few people.  Those who were part of my past are of no consequence to me today.  Many of them stole from me and I write not of money, their thefts made me pauper and in my poverty I became thief.  I describe my past this way…

Old World

Old World

Circles, wheels slowly turning, time passing and returning to the same stagnant time, the clock stops, overwound, anger, breakdown, hatred and being hated, thoughts of suicide.  No discipline, nothing. 

This essay is titled  Discipline – A Difficult Act in a Hard World. And what would the last four paragraphs have to do with the title?  Discipline is one of the many keys needed to live a comfortable life. A disciplined mind will follow a set path to a goal and is able to deal with slight deviations as the journey progress’s.

I’m a traveller and soon I will be on a journey which should have begun years ago.  And even though age is a draw back, technology has made the future easy.  MacBook, Canon camera, a voice recorder will enable me to wander Earth, record my thoughts, write my madness, angers, loves and frustrations. This is my time to write whatever I like, in whatever way I wish. A free-flow of words taking me from one paragraph to the next. Thats how I want to live.  One episode to the next, see where it takes me and I have the disciple to do it.

Man is a pilgrim on the road to the cathedral of ‘success’.  This is the route many fall by the wayside.  Birth – Education – Application – Success and Failure – Accumulation – A time for rest – And Death.  Many believe this to be the perfect formula or religion to happiness.  Living within the control of the ‘Establishment’ and still believing themselves to be free.  Looking at the success of their families and saying ‘I did this, their success is down to ME’.  For me it’s boring, mundane, pointless. The writer should study his fellow humans and he will discover his or her truth.  Do not think, I wish I were rich, famous or genius, this ‘chase’ seems a long odds gamble.  I spent some time in Hollywood and Burbank last year and watched thousands of tourists looking at the film studios, stars homes and the walk of fame.  I was bored with the glitz interested in the tourists. A Visit to the large and beautifully tended grave yards high above Los Angeles with the deer wandering through the trees was fascinating.  Small headstone epitaphs of once famous stars, just a name, no flowers. I asked a young man ‘Do you know George Raft was?’ I already knew ‘NO’ would be the answer.  If the famous are forgotten what hope have the minions?   You may argue ‘They’re remembered in their films’.   I’ll answer ‘Thats entertainment! Not life’.


There Are Rules To Be Broken

There Are Rules To Be Broken

Any thing you write, do it your own way, care not a fig for those who do not like your work. Any one is able comment about THEIR thoughts of your work and it is their opinion FULL STOP. I once had an author write a critical one star ‘soon bored’ was the comment and that’s it for me, as its a boring review – recently the same book received another one star review – ‘easier said than done’ – another boring comment, when I looked at the reviewers other comments about other books, they were mostly one star reviews – I wondered if he had written a book? His comment was right though, the book is called ‘Never Lets Anything Worry You’ and this IS difficult to do, and, the book is not well written, although there’s a message within it, its not Dickens, Elliot or Kerouac only they could have been them, that’s the point, you assemble words in YOUR unique way, not everyone will like ’em.

The words of a critic can be a poison to the artists creativity, stifling, restricting, instilling self doubt, in the same way parents ruin children their children by saying to them “you’re not good enough” the child believes the sentence to be true and gives up. You’re not a child your an artist and artist’s rebel, fight against, are antagonistic, taking pleasure within their uniqueness. We have all read the coaxing power of these next few words……

Never give up. The only mind you have to please is your own, if you are happy with your efforts, then you will be near to or within a ‘certain’ peace of mind.

If you sell books on the net as downloads 99 pence is the threshold, go higher and the download does not sell, this is reality not fiction and the deal gets worse for the writer, who possibly recieves 30% of the sale price. Which is why I have decided to sell all of my work for 50 cents, its not the loot, its the doing. There is no under valuing of my work, if I have a 1000 downloads for a dollar I’ll see 33 cents per click, I would have to sell 60 thousand a year for a living wage, the effort of promotion would be greater than the writing. No, I write for pleasure in a way which is my own.

Say a big thank you to every one of the people who buys your book those who like it and those who do not, if the book is on KDP they can get a refund – so you’re taking nothing from the reader. Write for your own pleasure, your own happiness in your own way.

Who is to say that the many who will not comment have NOT enjoyed your book or have not taken something from it? When someone makes a negative comment it does not mean they are right, they have the right to say whatever they like and it ends there for me. Remember this, when your heart goes bang, stops a beat, and you feel of pain the critic has desired to cause, you have taken time in your life to actually do something which you love, you have nurtured it in the best way you can and this means something to your inner self. Sammy Davis Jnr was a ugly man who’s voice captivates millions, he also was loved by many women, a true Casanova, I have no doubt there were many who disked his singing and did not like to look at him, its the ones who did who made him millions of dollars.

The critics? Who are they? What are they? fXXk off perfect? No, no one is.

Keep writing until your tendons ache, thinking about the next chapter until your head swims in a maelstrom of why’s – how’s – will this work’s – Writing a book is like life, you will get it wrong, many times, if you take any notice of the superiors you will be number ninety – two on the list above ~ (Parked causing an obstruction) So, get a move on keep tapping the keys.

Enjoy your failings, mistakes, non-sense, personal setbacks – Remember my friend for all of these hurdles you are a writer – Tell the world your stories, ideas, thoughts, expose yourself to those who hate you, despise your work, nothing matters only you and your endeavour’s – Be clear, there will be many who do like your writing, its the majority who count, the minority leave them where they belong – within their own place, their own thoughts, their own opinions, who cares for the critic? Not me, the reality is, very few do.

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