booktowrite

When my family emigrated from England to South Africa, I struggled for a while with the climate… and the cultural change. Everything was dry and hot… and we moved in January, it had been snowing and freezing in Greater Manchester… in South Africa it was dusty, dry, and sickeningly hot. For the first few years, the days I loved the most were the rainy days....
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I began the year in South Africa, having been there for Christmas and New Year, spending a few weeks on the beautiful South Eastern Coast where the beaches are often relatively wild, and free from excessive commercial tourism. It’s a wonderful place to witness nature and wildlife. From dolphins playing and whales breaching not far out from the beach to monkeys and birds rocking the...
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Grasping for the words that were written or spoken… digital… paper… long lost audio disappearing as ghosts of sound in the wind. Once so relevant and charged with emotion, now simply relics of the past. Fossils that can occasionally be unearthed by excavating old mails, messages, blogs, and journals. Brush the dust from a single word and uncover a phrase, a sentence, a meaning that...
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A forlorn lifeguard stares from the loneliest lifeguard office I have ever seen as the sun sets behind a gloomy sky. I sit on the beach while the waves crash and a young-looking African lady waves at me from above. I’ve seen her several times selling small collectible items near the beach, and I’ve always wanted to smile and say hello. Today she finally waved,...
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During this Christmas break, I have been fortunate enough to read the memoir of one of my life-long heroes: Greg Graffin’s Punk Paradox. I have found the book to be truly astonishing and ultimately inspiring. Having discovered Bad Religion in 1993, when they had already been around 13 years and had seemingly accomplished so much, I assumed them to be supremely confident, comfortable, and...
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Christmas morning with my parents for the first time in ten years. It is quite a remarkable thing. My mother and I would probably drink all day, but my dad doesn’t drink and is not always amused when we begin to get wasted. Outside it’s raining and warm. It’s beautiful. I am sitting at the garden table under shelter of the roof that my father...
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The African morning is something to behold. Quite a potent and beautiful thing, but not something to always be taken easily if one is a light sleeper or in need of a deep and long sleep. The birdsong is simply describable in no other way than to say it is a cacophony of sound. Birds of all varieties seem to be in competition for which
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This week I went to see Teenage Bottlerocket live. They're not one of my favourite bands, but, during lockdown, their song 'why the big pause' became something of a theme for me and I really enjoyed the night and the show. I also discovered a new band called Sloth Fist, with the irresistible slogan: 'Live slow, die whenever' 😅

https://twitter.com/punkworldviews/status/1322036845329358849?s=20

If you are interested in music, see a song from our live intimate show for friends and family in Galicia, Spain:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVsziAnd9IE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZgsPrGoqAQ

The sad man stares at a blank page and is afraid to mark it with more words that sound the same as everything that came before. Rhetorical nonsense borne of a broken heart. Borne of longing. Borne of loneliness. Last night in an open field, beneath the moon, the sad man watched Rancid, a band he has loved for more than twenty years, and came...
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