tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33954383974062912482011-08-27T15:42:25.416+01:00(metered thoughts & other shorts)bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.comBlogger671100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-43019640079871424132011-03-29T08:40:00.001+01:002011-03-29T08:40:31.769+01:00

Here we go againECG for breakfastMachine on machine- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-2881169878598329732011-03-21T13:17:00.001Z2011-03-21T13:17:15.863Z

a photo by bobcat rock on Flickr.monday morning quietplanning my day, i sip youin the warm spring sun

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-13926093341069218452011-03-19T13:00:00.002Z2011-03-19T13:01:45.061Z

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-83372262157785880142011-02-23T15:55:00.001Z2011-02-23T15:55:38.921Z

Sometimes I can hear where the music wants to go....and I just can't keep up...(a thought)- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-59470901366177400372010-11-29T21:06:00.001Z2010-11-29T21:06:56.741Z

I heading home after attending an information evening at the Central London branch of the Samaritans. It feels a bit weird blogging this for several reasons. Firstly, I've not posted for a while. Secondly, i can't help but feel a bit 'self-righteous' blogging such a thing. Thirdly, it's only me - hardly the most interesting of characters. But, hey. I'm going to try and get back into posting more

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-53159421811608858932010-07-24T12:12:00.001+01:002010-07-24T12:12:58.661+01:00

talking life, ideas, variables and some v scary but exciting possibilities with @robertbrook.I've missed his counsel. Hope I have the ability to remember and the courage to act.- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-50348374149019135972010-07-20T18:39:00.001+01:002010-07-20T18:39:41.821+01:00

We were in the SunDrinking, laughing, listeningNow we're back at work- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-26949215232371898372010-04-30T01:04:00.001+01:002010-04-30T01:04:57.704+01:00

Remember when the sun woke us up?we rubbed our eyes, and in silence, sat up.How, at first, we doubted the weather;until we knew it always starts stormy, then gets better.How we bought too much to eat,when we packed the car for our Hebridean retreat?How the cows & sheep came to say hello,curious lambs with big ears - in the Sun - aglow!Remember how we read in bed?Ancient fairytales, pillowed heads

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-54655621523467978302010-03-14T21:51:00.004Z2010-03-14T21:59:30.197Z

a piece of fruitforeign to youa new landwe exploredhand in handa few days awayto learn and to playour first trip(a strange word, that -for this)a thousand memoriesa city of dreamsa new startskin, texturetaste, hearta piece of fruita new taste in your moutha reminder for mea shared feastquiet, happy, at ease

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-71100977925610358052010-02-19T15:17:00.001Z2010-02-19T15:17:31.314Z

fingers poised, twitchinghovver above the keyboardbefore hitting 'send'(friday haiku from cow-orker)

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-19359869912528224112009-07-29T19:40:00.003+01:002009-07-29T20:17:45.429+01:00

i'm not an 'overtly' religious person. and like most people (i suspect), any thoughts i have on the matter have always been kept to myself, for one reason or another.i have always been perplexed by faith, Man's need for it, the things Man has done - and continues to do in it's name and in the quest for it. i realised at a very young age that pretty much all pain, war, misery, cruelty, suffering

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-87429267988256823912009-07-29T01:35:00.001+01:002009-07-29T01:35:26.810+01:00

you were rightit's too widethis landscape of nightlegs restlessly reachlong, lazy, lonely swipesthis nocturnal kicking sleeppillows laugh from the floortoo light, glowingin the darkness betweenturn for a different viewarms still imagine youmy skin knows I'm missing youyou were right

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-54516258811913127832009-07-19T23:22:00.004+01:002009-07-19T23:35:24.279+01:00

Part 3.Sunday.3m 33secs.(an observation: the thing about this little experiment is that it allows little time to mull over ideas - everything is done on the fly. the most revision i've done is to scrap an idea 20-30mins in, only to start again. nothing i've done so far seems particularly good/exciting, but i think today's is the one i'm least unhappy with. we'll see what tomorrow holds...)

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-6716336460074083302009-07-18T23:12:00.002+01:002009-07-18T23:14:55.012+01:00

Part 2.Saturday.2m 22secs."...the jingle-jangle of a thousand lost souls..."'enjoy'.

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-8310038755135595992009-07-18T01:02:00.002+01:002009-07-18T01:09:42.742+01:00

we can all get too lazy & comfortable.we can all make excuses. i know i'm always making excuses for not getting things done.so, as i have Monday off, i thought i'd try an experiment...record 4 new tracks in 4 days. one a day. not that scary. everything new - no working from old ideas. no finishing off old songs. these will be 4 new tracks written n' recorded on the fly.to make it a little more

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-83456988191700860442009-07-02T18:11:00.001+01:002009-07-02T18:11:02.053+01:00

Originally uploaded by bobcat rockthere's a phone boxbe therethe phone will ringpick upthere'll be a voicelistenthere'll be a questionanswerthere'll be an alleydon't turn aroundthere'll be some worrydon't run agroundthere'll be rubbishdon't look for weaponsthere'll be passersby don't eye them with questionsthere'll be a blacked out buildingdon't look for me therethere's an open windowyou can't go

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-13910560241195840222009-05-11T22:45:00.006+01:002009-05-11T23:45:08.083+01:00

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadow and the soul.I love you as the plant that never bloomsbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.I love you without

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-64017166853754927822009-05-09T23:36:00.007+01:002009-05-10T00:19:46.025+01:00

i've been playing with this tune for the last few hours. it's still very raw, messy and not yet fully formed.for once, i'm at a complete loss for lyrics that suit it.you know when you're writing and you can feel 'something' coming, 'something' brewing, but you don't know what; because 'it' doesn't know what 'it' is itself yet?same thing.and that's half the fun.anyway, for some reason - maybe

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-24393547675841278352009-05-05T20:32:00.005+01:002009-05-05T20:36:18.433+01:00

Rolling out of LondonOn a cold November nightYeah, I'm leaving the old townTo start a better lifePacked my bags months agoAnd then saved up for the flightSome say I'm running - no -I've finally made up my mindSomeone once told meYou can make your dreams come trueBut no one warned meThey'll haunt ya 'til you doSo I find myself on the open roadWith a guitar on my backYeah - you laugh - it's the

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-20397199270019289542009-05-04T23:00:00.004+01:002009-05-04T23:24:51.756+01:00

every now and thensomething will remind meof how you came and saved mecaught my fall, behind meevery once in a whilei'll see a mouth shaped like yoursmy breath will catch in my throatmy feet will slow under meevery day a random thoughtwill take me back - like soul remoteinches from your face, i feelyour breath warm and sweet and almost realevery night i wonder ifour paths might cross like corny

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-21293393194653461052009-05-03T17:45:00.021+01:002009-05-03T20:04:50.276+01:00

The Rosicrucians held that, all things visible and invisible having been produced by the contention of light and darkness, the earth has denseness in its innumerable heavy concomitants downwards, and they contain less and less of the original divine light as they thicken and solidify the grosser and heavier in matter.They taught, nevertheless, that every object, however stifled or delayed in its

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-77475809765040365072009-05-02T18:49:00.004+01:002009-05-02T20:14:36.182+01:00

where once there was lighta shadow crawls in tightwhitewashed in slight reliefsilent, blind to the street

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-37036963388513067342009-04-25T19:19:00.006+01:002009-04-25T20:05:07.798+01:00

did you lie herewhere i lay yesterdaydid they hold youas gently as they hold me todaydid they scratch your fading skindid they soften with agedid they bear witnessas you passed through this placethen stay with meas i tripped with schooldo they tie us togethersome ancient nocturnal rope trickdo they thinwith years, weathereda finer threadstill tying us togetherdid they witness grief and tearsafter

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-15526395595548567272009-04-19T17:15:00.007+01:002009-04-19T18:09:54.141+01:00

"I think we must have a faith, and if we haven't we must find one.Because if we don't, life is empty and senseless.We must have some explanation why cranes fly south, why children are born, why there are stars in the sky.Some system of belief.Because either you know what you are living for or else nothing matters - the whole thing is absurd."Masha speaking to Baron and Vershinin (with whom she

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-54954916223506065422009-04-10T00:37:00.000+01:002009-04-10T00:38:14.538+01:00

if i could track your pitch n' weavethrough space and endless timeif i could predict how i might risewhen you, sublime, declineif i could pitch the tilt n' thrustof Fate's uncertain handif i knew what she held for usand still leave her in commandif the planets in their graceful speedfor centuries, certain, swayif surely as i crave your touchthe Sun imparts her dayif tidal as the seas I swellat

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-7393459022965612542009-04-05T13:45:00.000+01:002009-04-05T13:46:08.771+01:00

This morning I came to the strangest realisation. I'm glad - nay, relieved - to have less disposable income, now that I'm living alone.The thought of having to live a more limited (or maybe just a more 'considered') life was one of the main reasons that I had shyed away from living alone and kept me sharing with friends for so long. But today, the thought excited me. So many distractions have

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-41851476844998148442009-04-03T00:12:00.000+01:002009-04-03T00:13:31.866+01:00

whenever I look up and outinto the world so far and widewhen I tune out the screams & shoutsand fence off a moment to breathe & hidewhen I close my eyes to wipe them cleanin preparation for things unseenwhen I need to drink the stilland crave rememberance of sweeter pillswhen I feel the need to sharethe beauty lost here, still hiding therewhen I yearn for a softer placeand dream of a gentle

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-11397084153708780532009-03-21T08:56:00.000Z2009-03-21T09:04:27.787Z

"My mother she killed me,My father he ate me,My sister, little Marlinchen,Gathered together all my bones,Tied them in a silken handkerchief,Laid them beneath the juniper tree,Kywitt, kywitt, what a beautiful bird am I!"(Extract from "The Juniper Tree" from Grimm's Fairy Tales. I'm rediscovering many loved old treasures, post-move; like this 1975 edition, in near perfect condition. Apparently,

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-47853196034573210482009-03-15T11:35:00.001Z2009-03-15T11:35:59.829Z

when I think of youI smile and have to look awayafraid you'll seewhat I just can't saywhen I'm near youI always fear the worst, by the wayafraid I seewhat can only be dismaywhen I speak to youthe idiot inside takes overspeaking in tongues that should never have their saywhen I hear from youit's always more I cravetell me what you'd like to dolet's go spend a perfect day

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-42491398480875164422009-02-19T23:24:00.000Z2009-02-19T23:25:15.801Z

I close my eyes and see you thereAcross the bed, and time, and airI hear you breathing in your sleepAnd watch you smile in dreams so deepI turn, to sink still further downBehind, the pull of someone warmWe touch our toes and bodies talkAs if subconscious, not needing wordsI used to dream, as a weekday childAnd wake to find it's not Christmas time;In latter days, from recent dreams,I wake to

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-13384923054693730052009-02-14T23:46:00.001Z2009-02-14T23:56:04.448Z

Most Saturday mornings, if I'm lucky and if diaries allow, I kick-start my weekends with Saturday morning coffee with my dear friend Mr B.These usually start with sleepy mumbled twittery, until we meet, with practically silent acknowledgement, atop one of London's most beloved bookstores, where coffee and laughter swiftly ensue.This morning was a bit different.In a good way. A very good way.You

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-8959980313737847742009-02-11T20:01:00.000Z2009-02-11T20:07:57.478Z

They come and goThese thoughts and flowers. Like seconds, minutes, Daydreamed hours. I thought I saw youIn the crowdA face, upturned,Then washed aground. I spent a whileWith you, in dreams,Then came back down,To harsher things.

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-30898638145337156322009-02-02T11:59:00.005Z2009-02-02T13:08:00.593Z

So. We were told last week, that 'Siberian' weather was on it's way and to expect it to hit this week. And it has.We got a few random flakes Sunday (yesterday) morning, then the 'snow proper' started last night. I spent Sunday afternoon with friends and we were all excited to see the snow-covered world outside when i left at about 6pm. An inch-worth of virgin dusting, gently draped over the

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-77954764464789643162009-01-18T20:52:00.007Z2009-01-18T21:28:37.422Z

I've been meaning to borrow the old family photo albums from my Mum for a while now, to scan some of these old shots in. I ache to see some of these old photos, desperate to refresh fading memories, of ghosts and times i barely knew, but love and miss. Every day. Still. I always eye the huge pile of loved, and lovingly assembled leatherbound photo albums, in their quiet place, at the bottom of a

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-34469662594644175832009-01-06T12:55:00.000Z2009-01-06T12:56:13.674Z

I looked and sawA scratch of skyWhere people spedElevated highAbove the buildingsAmongst the cloudsFleetingFlyingBetween the worldsI saw the sunBounce to and froOff building cornersAnd high windowsI wondered if you saw it tooFrom where you wereOut in the blue

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-47934438131593459902008-11-27T13:39:00.000Z2008-11-27T13:40:01.447Z

there are places in the skywhere beds, like birds, fly highwhere walls do not existwhere the city cannot reachthere are places in the skywhere cement on girder drieswhere dreams are not yet dreamedwhere no lonely businessmen lamentwhere the fourth wall is in the mindwill it scare? will it excite?"does sir want a room with a view?or perhaps an interior to peruse?"there are places in the skywhere

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-8312175558976796422008-11-26T16:36:00.001Z2008-11-26T16:36:27.058Z

highway maintenance lorries crawlacross the bridge, toward palace wallscommuters walk the rainshon arcwhile sleepy trawlers trawl underneathcar'd commuters coffin bycrawl & scowl at lanes deniedthe rest of us walk through the rainTo where our yesterdays wait...again (1st test upload using new blogging app on iPhone.)-- Post From My iPhone

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-56213219362237203832008-11-22T01:27:00.002Z2008-11-22T01:33:13.051Z

Well, I've spent the evening experimenting with my lovely new iPhone and although it wasn't my first choice when shopping for a new phone, I soon realized I wasn't actually shopping for a 'phone'......the times, they're a-changing, kids.I hope this lovely new gadget helps me keep better track of all my favourite blogs, sites, newsfeeds, etc.Of course, my rate of output here, on flickr and

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-39914975086446507842008-10-07T19:13:00.002+01:002008-10-07T19:17:28.875+01:00

(found in a remote crevice of my flickrstream. made me smile, so thought i'd share it again here. maybe i'll try this again, soon?)

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-72166135998069740952008-09-29T21:38:00.008+01:002008-09-29T22:24:41.978+01:00

You may recall seeing a rather excited post from me here a couple of weeks ago. It was written - and posted - on a Saturday morning, hours before a friend of mine was due to come over for the afternoon. An afternoon we had planned to spend recording, building, racketeering, deconstructing, constructing, re-constructing, creating, making. Great things.Well, sadly - and as a few of you now know -

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-42632235942000517962008-09-27T18:17:00.007+01:002008-09-27T18:26:59.183+01:00

The main entrance to La Sagrada Familia, on the Passion facade, to the west. There are three 'grand' facades, the other two being the Nativity to the east and the Glory - still to be completed - to the south.I found the sculpture on the Passion facade particularly striking, being geometrically brutal, uncompromising and yet still very beautiful and intensely moving. Possibly because of the

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-6126569041444470422008-09-26T21:05:00.007+01:002008-09-26T21:17:53.410+01:00

Let us forget any sadnessTogether tonightPour me some wineTurn off the lightAnd look at the view from your balconyLondon through your eyesNo one but you to keep me companyTwenty floors up a high-riseIn a romance of the old schoolIf you lived in this tower blockYou'd be a victim of the systemA subject for punk rockBut look at the view from your balconyThe sunset is searing the skyAnd how proudly

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-42186595062584597232008-09-23T20:19:00.017+01:002008-09-23T21:15:04.272+01:00

"The main job of the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya (MNAC) as a museum, apart from preservation, documentation and research, is to generate knowledge... After all, dissemination is another of a museum's chief purposes.Furthermore, if one of the priorities of a country is also to explain and disseminate its art and compare it, whenever possible, with international art, the role of the MNAC as

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-11161056991752242008-09-22T21:47:00.008+01:002008-09-22T22:17:23.257+01:00

c'mon, baby c'mon, c'mon, darling let me steal this moment from you now... c'mon, angel c'mon, c'mon, darling let's exchange the experience...

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-78136796154181431892008-09-21T13:10:00.005+01:002008-09-21T13:17:55.978+01:00

The Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família. "George Orwell berated the 1930s anarchists for 'showing bad taste by not blowing it up.' They did, however, manage to set fire to Gaudi's intricate plans and models for the building, which was his final project before his death. Ongoing work is a matter of some conjecture and controversy, with the finishing date expected to be somewhere within the

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-12612023147512214422008-09-20T18:40:00.007+01:002008-09-20T19:09:21.528+01:00

Well, I'm back from a very, very fleeting visit to Barcelona. I've not kicked off my shoes, or unpacked - or even opened - my bag. But, i had to plug the old digital camera in and see how some of my favourite shots came out.This is the one shot I'm posting for now (more to come on flickr & maybe here).This hand belongs to the lady who stole my heart away, only days ago. I turned a corner and

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-35933768826403777742008-09-13T10:40:00.005+01:002008-09-13T11:14:10.746+01:00

Today, something quite exciting is happening. I'm taking part in my first collaboration for (counting...) at least eleven years...A fellow songwriting friend is coming over at 1pm this afternoon. We've long spent coffee and lunch breaks talking about our ongoing writing & recording; excitedly discussing our weekend's work, consoling each other when we've hit creative brick walls; offering

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-62522131570076431392008-09-05T22:37:00.011+01:002008-09-05T22:52:02.230+01:00

i sinkbecause i want to fallinto the arms of lovei crybecause i want to crawland hide 'til i'm strong enoughi coughbecause i can't swallowthe lump in my throat too largei resolveto hold out until tomorrowbecause nothing this cruel can last

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-9665673889129493722008-06-14T14:05:00.003+01:002008-06-15T13:20:04.158+01:00

somerset fudge at local weekend market. lovely stuff! (but melts in the summer sun.)

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-57713756545849954562008-06-12T23:26:00.001+01:002008-06-15T13:20:50.463+01:00

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-34462363608703097932008-06-11T22:30:00.003+01:002008-06-11T22:43:02.161+01:00

this is a testto see between fingered linesbeneath the chestto view the foot above the groundthis, here in bluecreased, and snapped and clipped for yousomething bound by nature, trueyet still of air's ethereal crewthis is how things fellwhat left me here remains as wellbut changed to something distant and obtusechallenging this heir, "no truce!"this is how we futurescribewe forge new words from

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-58088746171417402892008-06-01T00:47:00.001+01:002008-06-01T00:47:14.465+01:00

"When performing, it doesn't matter the brand, the colour or the cost.  All that matters is that the guitar and I are one. I have to feel that the sound or instrument comes out of me with the song, from inside, from the gut.  And it doesn't matter to me that I only know three or four chords.  With the left fingers on the frets, the heel of my right hand hugging the body of the guitar, letting

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-15215356143714054332008-05-29T23:58:00.002+01:002008-05-30T00:11:18.193+01:00

something's got me (re)started. again...  this afternoon, i took a couple of hours off work and went to Iguana Studios in Brixton, South London, with a demo-copy of my album in my bag, to sit down and talk plans through with the owner and main producer at the studios.  it wasn't at this table. but i love this shot. the space, the freedom, the lighting, the pregnancy, the possibilities it holds

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-8221596051465949722008-05-28T18:54:00.001+01:002008-05-28T18:54:21.925+01:00

I've been listening to a lot of music recently. Probably more than usual.  Lots of old tunes; some rediscovered, some new to my ears.  Lots of new music, too.  All of which made me re-think what i'm doing musicwise.   I've been struggling and weighing-up a lot over the last few months; trying to work out exactly how i feel about it all, trying to work out why i write. Is it 'worth' anything? Is

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-79908252023542476342008-05-26T18:55:00.000+01:002008-05-26T19:05:41.322+01:00

Aldgate Station.  this was the second photograph i took with Bessie (full name "Bessamatic Voigtlander"). sheltering from the torrential rain, enjoying torrential sunshine around lunchtime on Saturday 26th April 2008.   Aldgate Station has a strange and sad past - both in fact and fiction... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aldgate_tube_station   for some reason, this is probably my favourite shot

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-43426594804119321672008-04-19T23:43:00.001+01:002008-04-19T23:43:16.426+01:00

The pain was already, in the truest sense of the word, extraordinary.  Like a coiled serpent, cramped and waking from it's slumber, it slowly swelled and pushed, birthing to life inside his skull.  It always woke foul tempered and hot breathed, straining and complaining as it surfaced from it's sleep. He knew the pattern; the play of the battle that lay ahead.  Where it would deploy it's first

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-91986639010017323782008-04-14T00:35:00.000+01:002008-04-14T00:36:10.279+01:00

Well, here she is.   Meet The Voigtlander Bessamatic, born in West Germany, sometime between 1958-63.   To me, she instinctively and simply became 'Bessie', when we were finally reunited, after many, many years apart on Saturday afternoon. And I know. The name. Guitars aside - i don't generally name inanimate objects, but she has been a part of my life for as long as i can remember. Her tough

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-38386661602637211572008-04-10T21:44:00.000+01:002008-04-10T21:45:00.603+01:00

When you came You seemed to step from leftfield shadows You seemed to smile away all of my troubles When you came When you smiled I felt my shoulders ease and sigh I felt a weight disappear, denied When you smiled When we laughed it was a gentle, easy thing It was as friends waiting to begin When we laughed When we kissed Not a planet crashed or slid No one else knew what we did When we

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-53793361205479614002008-04-06T01:42:00.001+01:002008-04-06T01:42:22.351+01:00

I miss you most When the Moon takes over, The sky turns black And the stars roll in...   I loved you first When you slept on my shoulder; The arch of your back, The touch of your skin...   (extract from an untitled poem from the yellow notebook. written 1.24am, 1st April 1998. London, SW1.)

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-18107000318917940932008-03-24T01:04:00.001Z2008-03-24T01:04:37.457Z

The way you look at me - I can sense it sometimes.The way things might well beNo scramble for digital time. The way you laugh at meWhen I say something silly or feel awkward.The way I feel so freeTo look you in the eyes and not flinch. The way your fingers curvedThat first time when we reached out.The way it must have seemed absurdTo all the other faces in the crowd. The way we found

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-63169284867288783792008-03-23T00:56:00.001Z2008-03-23T00:56:58.455Z

Today was a wet, windy, sunny, changing bank holiday Saturday.  Not much to do, you might think.  A day spent pottering indoors, throwing the occasional glance out the window, checking on the ever changing weather. (If ever there were four seasons in one day, it was today in London.)  Not much to do, you might think.  Unless you'd caught wind of the flashmob pillow-fight planned for 15:03 in

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-61400347893209843242008-03-21T18:28:00.001Z2008-03-21T18:28:53.952Z

I realise I'm quite an excitable person; but then, to me, seem to live in a sea of stimulus.  I used to swing between wishing could stop being so deeply moved or affected by things I witnessed or experienced and thanking God I was 'awake' enough to savour the pain and joy all around us. Now I know that's just the way it is.And I'm grateful for that. I think. Anyway.  This cutting is just one of

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-54848740276221146112008-03-20T23:55:00.001Z2008-03-20T23:55:21.366Z

i remember youi remember your roomyour four poster bedand that look that said... i remember youyou introduced me to Neil reclined in a tee-shirtand watched us shake hands... you tried to set me freebut that chain was a part of me (a pretty heavily edited extract from an old song written back in 1997.  incidentally, the accompanying photo was shot two or three months shy of a full decade after 

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-78709463690777475152008-03-16T20:17:00.010Z2008-03-16T23:54:20.171Z

Weatherwise, it's been a typical March day today (if there still is such a thing in these changing times) and so, while it's been raining & blowing outside, I've found myself spending most of the day pottering, planning and invariably, reflecting.  Out came stacks of old photo albums, soon followed by old writing books.  This is the inside cover of one of them.  The "Green Book". If i happen to

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-15021238322043900392008-02-18T13:58:00.005Z2008-02-18T14:29:30.227Z

I remember you, but how?Just how remains unclear.I remember lights were low –I think that I drew near?I remember sadness, still;A strange, low time of day.I remember confusion, dark,Sadness and dismay.I remember the layoutOf the saddest room.Maybe built within my mind.Maybe. I don’t know.I know that things changed that night –I’m sure that it was night.I know you can’t have given up -That

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-78374797181572308952008-01-04T18:16:00.000Z2008-01-04T19:03:09.952Z

Happy New Year, Groovers!Well. It's the first Friday of this new year they're calling 2008. Right now, i'm doing the neck thing. Head down to type a sentence, then head back to flex aching face (sinuses) & try for more air. This 'flu seems to have haunted me, danced around me, po-go'd through me, dragged around me & dragged me around since at least early October. That's October 2007. That'd be

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3395438397406291248.post-31867236346026741332007-12-31T16:21:00.000Z2007-12-31T17:14:26.541Z

OK. So here we are at 4.26pm on Monday 31st December 2007.The last day of the year.Somehow, starting the new week on the last day of the year seems like a good way to go. It's like you get a heads-up on the rest of the week. You get a day to play with...This year - 2007 - feels different to other years I've watched draw to a close. But it's been a year - and a time - of contradictions.I'm older

bobcat rockhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10326101262401459182noreply@blogger.com0