❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
trying on a metaphor
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Misplaced Lens Cap
macklin celebrini has autism
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Xuebing Du
roma★
★
gracie abrams
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𓃗
The Stonewall Inn
cherry valley forever
d e v o n
occasionally subtle
One Nice Bug Per Day
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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@pabloal
A different kind of iron behind the velvet...
Copied from Notebook Peith, 4 June 2025 Such were things with Uncle Ronald. He was at his best, I presume, as a simple man. That was the hero uncle I remembered from Childhood. But in reality, as I discovered growing up and when he became more like a friend of some kind, he was a complicated soul. He’d a lot of sadness in his life. [He’d been mistreated by the system, made fun of by kids calling…
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Wonderful Acoustics
When I played it for the last time in Arbroath [while he was in hospitals], that Nevada Acoustic Guitar Uncle Ronaldo had bought me sounded so good. Rarely had I played it in such form, for all the times it was there, left at his house and kept in a cupboard in his flat, in Arbroath and then later at Gilmour Place in Edinburgh. The guitar? Well it was as if it was sad. It was as if it itself, an…
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Disappearing
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Uncle Ronaldo's Final Message from Arbroath...
It was so sad having to clear out Uncle Ronald’s flat in Arbroath. It was a lovely, tenement flat with rooms full of character, on the ground floor, close to a big, back green. It was the kind of house you might see in The Broons, albeit only occupied by Uncle himself, who curiously went on to look like Granpaw Broon in his final years (pictured below). Mum and myself, along with his friend…
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They ain’t heavy, they’re my brothers..
Whether I like it or not The dads, daddies, paws, or fathers Are my brothers in this world Except I can’t condescend on them And call them son, As my next father figure did, Or adopt a blow-the-man-down outlook Upon them, Or be rude to them Or tell them what to do, As all the little boss blues Of this world Seemed to do They’re my brothers in this world, In a brotherhood-of-man context And I have…
Watching the Celtic with my friend Jimbo in an old Edinburgh pub…
I’d meet up with Jimbo At MacLachlans sometimes To watch Celtic games And soon became curious About these two guys Who used to celebrate Every goal scored By the team playing against Celtic Whether that be Rangers, Aberdeen, Dundee, or Porto. Jimbo told me That the main antagonist, Who would lead the other To stand up Every time a ball ended up In the Celtic net, Was a Hearts supporter But that…
'Wild and Free and Stupid Ol' Me
It’s a wee bit of writing I added to Notebook Coll, back in the Spring of 2024. I’m not sure if it’s my favourite piece but I felt should share at least something now that I’ve reached the end of all the notebooks named after letters in the Celtic alphabet… ‘Wild and Free and Stupid Ol’ Me’ Wild and free was stupid ol’ me, As miserable as a young-old fool could be Turning my back on a…
Brief annual update from facilitator me..
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Write ups for Automatic For The People and Indigenous are rekindling, as is a demand for Gus MacLean’s Lifetime of Happiness project…
From my parallel-to-real-life fiction adventures, the supergroup Irsmodhochas left in 2023 without doing write ups about R.E.M.’s Automatic For The People and Dougie MacLean’s Indigenous albums on their blog. But I’ve still got stuff in the facilitation basement for this and am wondering if Killed Beside Hendrix can set up a communication portal with Irsmodhochas in order to tie up these loose…
More updates to the ongoing…
Announcement of a new ongoing…
Notebook Nuin came to an end on 17 March 2025 and for me it ended on a high with this draft of a freestyle poem I penned (from the viewpoint of Lisdonamvigal) for St Patrick’s Day and Ireland. The draft was inspired by a clip shared by the Wild Atlantic Way page on Facebook, a couple of days earlier. First Impressions of Ireland, Revisited Under a blood red sky at dusk Blazing across forty…
Announcement
I hope to be taking more of a back seat from now as I pass on the mantle of facilitator to a new self who will not only be taking on responsibilities for the beautiful selves here and for Killed Beside Hendrix’s but also for a whole new set of beautiful selves. I’m not sure how the latter will go. It could be that I’ll have to set up a whole new blog on a different platform because I don’t really…
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Once again, I’m managing to end the year with the usual annual update from the facilitator in me..
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Lyrics for Joe Pearce...
Today’s the first and possibly only anniversary of my day-to-day writing in notebooks named after letters in the Celtic alphabet and I thought I should share something from that first notebook on this day last year… Before learning about the work of Weird Al Jankovic, successful re-writer and spoofer on Michael Jackson’s Beat It and Bad to Eat It and Fat, I’d been having a go at writing…
A couple of (what I now know as) Mondegreens, on songs by Toyah and ZZ Top, and maybe some distantly-brotherly love for Robert Fripp, if deemed appropriate..?
From a line in Toyah’s I Want To Be Free I’ve often been hearing (I’m) gonna turn Survanya upside down and thinking that maybe Survanya’s the name of a fictional planet or society, perhaps from a SciFi story. But no, Toyah sings about turning Suburbia upside down. From a line in ZZ Tops’ Got Me Under Pressure I’ve been hearing She likes the Arc d’ Triumph. But the actual lyrics are She likes the…
The Polytechnic Woods
The Polytechnic Woods (from Notebook Gath) It’s always been here, where I’ve felt so much safer, The long, shiny corridors Or soundproof caverns, The polystyrene-looking brickwork, The want to learn pulling me there. Yet it seems so odd: White, plastic trees And an upgrade of moon-wash college halls, Open spaces, large chimneys, Vocational, in contrast to academical. And during this time, I saw…
A wee bit o’ recurrent treasure, called Bein’ Sma’, turning up in Notebook P…
With ongoing aspirations to write what I know in my day-to-day writing, bein’ sma’, penned in a sort of scots tongue, has been a pit stop I’ve found myself revisiting since 2021. I scribbled this one into Notebook P, during the spring of 2023… Bein’ Sma’ Now I dinnae ken how this happens Fir I’ve sae often felt mair sma’ than ta’. But now am ta’ and bigged up, Prone tae feelin’ obnoxious…