​Used to be a time when, if I was waiting for a plane to depart, I’d grab a coffee, pull out my iPad and immediately start writing a poem. I am at an airport now, Gold Coast, heading to Sydney and I am writing - but I am writing about how when I used to do be in this situation I would immediately, habitually start expressing myself lyrically. I am writing, in a self observational way, about how I have observed in myself a different energy and behaviour to usual.

How? What’s different? (A chorus of other in the Departure Lounge spontaneously chimes.)

To be honest, I think that for the moment at least, it appears my romanticism, my idealism, have waned slightly. I used to feel compelled to express my emotions through creative prose. That was kind of a barometer for me. Right now, I don’t feel that. It’s not that I feel bad or lacking, it’s just that the thoughts and feelings are not making their way to the front of my consciousness, requesting (or demanding) to be released, expressed.

(The chorus is silent now, uninterested in the bard’s introspective monologue. They return to their personal devices - tune back in to interior diatribes of their own.)

What I do feel is more of a calm. Less immediately compelled to visit the muse. It’s not that I don’t feel like being creative - it’s just that, I guess, I am not in the mood to do it with rhyme. Instead, I am writing this confessional (what a weird, loaded word!) - so still writing but in a more perfunctory manner. So, what am I confessing? Do I feel guilty for not sprucing poetry? Not really. But it is unusual. Although, if I consider where I am at in my life, it does make sense.

To explain: six days a week for over a year now, I have been spending four to six hours in the studios at SAE where I am studying electronic music production. So I have been awash in audio magic. Actually, not all magic. Quite a lot of process. Trial and error. Exploration. But what I am saying is that my focus - a new language has been found - and my new language has been sound, noise, melody, beats.

And, quite frankly, it has been surprisingly engrossing and rewarding. It began three years ago, when I discovered a new joy playing with Garageband on my iPad. I soon became addicted and committed to creating all kinds of crazy songs using loops and vocals recorded directly into my iPad in cafes, in my car, wherever. I made something like 140 songs over a year. They were pretty raw. Sometimes I would have beginners luck and smash out something kind of OK - I wasn’t even doing proper mixing, not even volume levels! - I relied more on concepts, lyric content and enthusiastic inventiveness to push things through. Naively, some might say delusionally, I went through the steps and brought out an album - releasing a proper CD with fancy cover, illustrated lyric sheet and even had a launch night at a local cafe (Rock & Roll Coffee Company, Mullumbimby). Sold like five copies! Actually, not like five: five. The thing is here: I did it. Completed the cycle.

Fate took care of the next step by calling to my attention an open day at SAE. Why not?, I thought. I always drive by, curious about the inside. Having traditionally been more of a film, images guy, I never really considered pursuing audio but when I turned up, I was curiously enthralled by the studios and got some good vibes. Tentatively, I signed up for a twice a week course in Ableton - electronic music production. Fortuitously, I was eligible for a scholarship that would cover 90% of the cost. Nothing to lose. Even then, when it came time to fully commit to commencing, I got the jitters. Did I really need to do this? As a big lover of routine and a commitment-phobe, I got very close to not going ahead. But something kept me in there.

A couple of times, after the first two classes, I felt out of my depth. I had no idea how to even make the most basic of drum beats, for heaven’s sake. All the others were experienced performers, most with active and dynamic SoundCloud pages, song releases, band experience.

So what kept me in?

One was the software itself. Ableton, despite seeming somewhat overwhelming at first is like a magic playground. Each new toy is like a puzzle to be worked out but once you have cracked the code and can use the new element it adds an exciting new layer to your production capabilities. And the best part? The possibilities are endless! The kid in me (never far from the surface) is continually delighted by the fun factor. Playing with sounds - making stuff up. It’s like sonic Lego. Phonic papier mache. Audio art class. Love, love, love. After getting over the first mountain of challenging newness and confusing complexity - which for me took about 3 or 4 months of solid application. (So worth it!)

The other thing factor in my sticking with and becoming an Ableton advocate was my teacher/mentor. For me, someone who never took easily to the teacher/student relationship, he was the ideal leader. He led by example. Chilled. No pressure. But always patient with us newbies, attentive to individual rhythms (figuratively and literally) and generous with his time and in sharing his amazing skills. I am certain his easy style and low key, natural encouragement helped me hang in there during the make or break early stages. And beyond. Like a flight instructor he got me to the stage where I could fly solo. And I am up in the sky as often as I can be. I salute the squad leader, ever grateful.

After I finished the Music Cert III, I signed up for the Diploma in Music Production. While there was still some Ableton in that one, it was more expansive - with some excellent music theory and studio technique stuff. Another teacher appeared who would adeptly educate and inspire me. A highly motivated, passionate Scotsman, also with a vast knowledge and lots of talent. I am still there and still learning. It’s awesome to be in an instructive and productive environment. Starting on ground level and making the slow ascent. Back to school at fifty seven. Who would have thought!

So, what am I really saying here?

(As much as I enjoy and advocate just going with the flow with writing - like I am doing here - I like, whenever possible, to consider what I am going on about and to share something that may be of value; a whisper of insight, a summation of substance of potentially applicable relevance to those in the chorus who may still be sticking around. In this case: thee.)

What I am saying is: taking on a whole new strain of creativity and starting right from the beginning has had it’s challenging moments but, at the same time, there is a wonderful freedom in coming in cold, being totally green, a beginner again. If I review my own path from the start, three years ago, to now - I have gone from being a curious novice with an interest and passion to now being someone with a pocketful of skills and some sauce sachets of knowledge who can - on his own - a build a decent tune from the ground up - from beats, to bass, to chords and melody to effects, levels, mix and mastering. I’ve gotten pretty good at something new. On a leap of faith, a bit of luck, providence, professional guidance and self belief. I recommend it. When life presents you with the opportunity to expand - take it. Or not. Sometimes it’s a waste of time. Luckily for me, this one was a good one.

Where it may lead, I cannot predict but for now, I am enjoying the ride. Less poem writing at airports but, hey, not a big price to pay.

You can listen to my recent audio creations here: www.soundcloud.com/lewiejpd

    I've long been writing poems. It is something that has appealed to me since my mid teens. It's a unique way of expressing thoughts and feelings. A playful way to shine a light on your deeper, more complex feelings. Because you are being concise and using rhyme, you take your time, you sit with things. You are not just saying what's on your mind but you are formulating it into a something that is going to be an entity unto itself. Without getting bogged down or stifled, you aim to let your thoughts flow freely but also channel them into a somewhat structured vessel. It's one of those things that the more you do it, the more you enjoy it.

Poems are personal. They can't help but be. That's the other thing I like about them. That can be perceived as being hyper sensitive, a bit wussy they are, in fact, the result of brutal honesty and bold expression. You think you are too tough, too cool to write a poem? Just try writing something that is your authentic truth and share it with the world. You have to be at very least carefree, if not a bit foolish, with a sound base of awareness and confidence.

Anybody can hit someone in the face - but try doing it with a poem. And not the face - the heart. And not hitting but moving. Being a human is equally tough for us all. A poet will synthesise these universal struggles and encapsulate them in a bite size lyric. To make it look simple, easy, takes a lifetime. And just to be clear, I am not classifying myself as any kind of master. I'm just a passionate enthusiast. That's passion and enthusiasm - two wonderful things to direct towards anything worthwhile. 

Anyway, the poetry writing comes and goes in waves but over the last few years it's quite steadily been one a day. About 44 minutes each one. I don't time it. In fact, time becomes inconsequential. It's an esoteric pursuit. That's one of the good things about it, you get lost in thought. Focus and mind travel transport you to a different plane. You gather and return. Scribble it down - see how it sounds.

Ultimately you're mostly just a secretary for the universal muse. Channeling. If it's any good, it's because you got out of your own way and let it flow. It's a good feeling. That's why I keep doing it, I guess.

This is one from today:


BLUE OF NIGHT

It's cold and grey
Around here today
Still I went for a swim
Got to get in
Got to get in

The ocean calls me
Soothes my skin and
My inner being
One with the world
When I'm wave catching
Even the briskness warms me up

Getting older is a funny thing
Not funny ha ha
But strange and complex
Like a gradual awakening
To a different dimension
Not as hectic
Nor as hyped as youth
More elastic
Not as tasty and it's got less bite
But you appreciate it's truth more
Like sipping fine wine
You can take your time
Cause, more or less, you know what's in store

This may not be a revelation to everybody
But it is to me
Because like a few others, maybe many
I kinda thought that I would be young forever
Well, not really
Just couldn't picture a drop in my vitality and verve
Found it hard to imagine
Health and money and relationships
Would ever need to be preserved

I spent it all when I had it
Wasn't wasted (though I was sometimes)
But nothing saved
I guess I was a bit of a radical
Whimsical, sometimes slightly OTT misbehaved
Fuck it was great
But, as I've learnt, it eventually goes away
Goes away
Dissipates

And you are left
With hair that is grey on top of a verteran brain
Brimming with an arsenal of memories
A body that is still OK but slowing down
Standing in a very different place
With somewhat fewer options
That's just a reality

New things to be learnt
Like grace and pace, humility
Boldness now displaced by sensibility
There's a new kind of vulnerability
A leveling of intensity
Which, quite honestly, is a welcome relief
And there's more self belief
I mean, hell, you made it this far!

Hats off - ha ha - no one cares that you are losing hair
Sure at first there's a smidge of despair
But vanity wanes
As you become more philosophical
You make less complaints - cause what's the point
You can show restraint
And small tragedies just seem comical

So what I am saying, I guess
Is that although some elements do get less
Other things come to take their place
More subtle, more precious, more enduring
LOL
It's called maturing
Can be both alarming and assuring
Even alluring
Take it as you will
Cause what is what is

Funny
It was a muted, bright afternoon
When I started to write
And while I have been focused on expressing these words
Around me I've observed the transitioning light
From the warm orange sunset
To the cool, deep, dark blue of night

And you know what
Everything has its time and place
And it's alright
I do believe that
It's alright

After a long hard nothing 
Into something
I have become someone
Extremely familiar
To myself
I must be true

Because, because
This journey
This odyssey
This long, long sequence
Of events
This outrageous collection
Of incidents and occurrences
Begs for meaning
And validation

And who else
Who other
Than the instigator
The actor
The inhabitant
The perpetrator

Who better

To strive
To find
To define
To mould

Some kind of sensical 
Credible
Enriching
Uplifting

Form
Story

Historic recounting
Present portraying
Future formulating

Who better

Than self

To do that
Feels like
What I should do

At this point
In the evolution
Of another everyman
A unique genetic and circumstantial  
Concoction

Have I not struggled
Most of my life
In one way or another
To make it here

Is that not something 
Worth breath
And voice
And exploration
And extrapolation

Isn't now the time
The only time
There is

If I have thought it
And I write it
Will it not be true

For true
Is what I seek
And salvation
And liberation

And to be understood
Or not

But at least
To know in my heart
That all the love 
I have known and shared
Has not been for nought

All the tears cried
And the blood split
And the hells faced

Not for nought

For something
From nothing
Is something

And that something 
Is a life

A life worth acknowledging
Honouring
Humbly considering
As valuable
With value
Of value
Value

Just another word

Yes

But for the poet

Words
Have meaning 
Tremendous

Words can change
Words can transcend

The tyranny of suffering in silence

Words can connect
Connect with other souls

Your soul

This is a poem about you
About you, too

We are talking about 
Just how beautiful
You are
You are

Eternal

All of us

Quite the same
In that regard

Let's laugh!

And laugh
And fall in a heap
And forget
Our worries

Just for a while

Let's do that
Let's do that

And call it poetry
Call it living

Because it is

If you could only ever say one thing
What would it be?

Give a definition of yourself 
In ten years or less

Show how much you care
By doing nothing they expect

Throw caution to the wind
Then catch a bus home

You've forgotten where you live
But you still have your phone

Call a friend and let them know
You're lost inside

There is no answer
Quite like silence
No consolation
For never showing up

It's a fight from the start
And then it gets harder
A flight from the heart
And then you get higher

Stand up for yourself
So that you don't have to lie
Your whole life

Wake 
Wake
If you can stand it
It's tomorrow
It's tomorrow

You'll be OK
Just go back to sleep
Don't go back to sleep

If you only had one chance
When would you take it?

You have ..... chances
Fill in the blank
With invisible ink
Sign you life away
So you need not stop and think

Wait
Wait
It's almost now

You're chances are fading
Have you read your own speech?
Everyone is saying
It's really quite amazing

But you have to believe
First
You have to believe
The worst
Is over

This is just the beginning
It's morning

That sunshine equals love
That sunshine in your eyes
That equals love

That sunshine is your face

First feel it
Feel it
Feel it
First

OK
Now
Suddenly now
Just imagine
You're awake


*

Reach
Reach for anything
Reach for what you want

Seek
Seek whatever
Seek your heart's desire

Teach
Teach the curious
So they too may be wise

Give
Give what you can
It'll make you feel richer

Talk
Talk about what you're thinking
We want to know, we need to know

Leap
Leap into the unknown
You won't be hurt, you won't regret

The sky
Is your limitlessness
You may not get there 
On the first jump
But eventually, eventually
You'll be out of sight completely

Completely completed
A compliment to eternity
A snicker from up the back of infinity

Until then
Stay focused
Stay in the sun
Stay close
But travel far

Use your imagination, kid!

Just a little spark is all I need
Like this morning
I was awake
More awake than some mornings

Just a little spark
I read a word
Just a single word
That lit a fuse

Ignited by passion
It's not a predictable thing
Passion lives in a world of it's own
With it's own rules
With no rules

I think of Raymond Carver
His words
Chosen
Select
The effect
Sublime

I think of the artist
Say Picasso
No, Van Gogh
Or Hockney, yeah, Hockney
The colours presented
A miracle to behold

I think of a lifetime
So much struggle
By the time we realise
It's not the game we thought it was
It's too late
Too late

So any spark
Be it in the morning, at night, at twilight 
Forget the cocktails
Get up from the patio
We're gonna dance
We're gonna dance
Cause this may be the last chance we get

Fragments of memories of experiences long gone
Fading but not forgotten
Fortune's favourite song

Keep pushing that replay button

Did you ride high in the sky that day?
Did you holler with pride, screech with joy?
Was the whole world yours for that moment?
Tell me, was it unreal, did it haphazardly happen?
Your one of a kind, unique and special favourite story?

We all have them stored away safely

Some shouted out in barrooms 
Some still secret between just you and them
A few even made the papers maybe
Some just make you want to go back again

But you don't get second chances
In this showreel, fluttering, fleeting
And no returns, no two time burns
The drums just keep on beating

So move on to new peaks and pinnacles
You haven't finished until the end
Do not be dragged down by the mundane or the clinical
You've got the reputation of your lifetime to defend

Fire up
Loosen out
Grind and grind some more
Chin up
Crush the doubt
Power aid your core

With every thousand new dreams
One true adventure is born
Honour your primitive need
To be ignited, invited, reborn

You are still breathing, aren't you?
Then there is hope, there are chances
For in the end, you want to be there laughing, wild eyed
As your skeleton does it's majestic final dances

Tonight I made a simple video recording of myself reading my poem 'As An Artist'. It was a fun, one-take job, with a slapped on bookend titles. I've watched it five or six times and have thought about it.

I've also been watching some mid season episodes of SO3 of the HBO series 'Girls' by Lena Dunham in sequence. Man, it's excellent stuff. Drama. It's about NYC mid twenty year olds; relationships, work, daily life stuff. It's quality. 

I love watching great quality stuff like that. Mad Men is another favourite. Beats any movie by miles.

What I got to thinking is about my own relationship with writing (the main character, Hannah is a writer in the show) and life. On rewatching my poem I realise that it is pretty me-centric. There's a scene in one episode of Girls where a med student cousin of Hannah's complains about writers and how self centred they are and how everything is about them. Made me think. I guess it is true in some ways, but at least in my case, it's not an ego thing. It's more about observing and commenting on the species in general - and what better way than having complete access to the internal workings of an actual specimen.

What I mean is that what I find fascinating about being a person is how complex and unpredictable it is to be one. I could write about what I observe in others, but I would never know any one else as completely as I do myself. And what I try to do is to observe, consider, then report on the machinations of that person who I happen to inhabit. It's not showing off. It's revealing. It's not even really a choice. It's a compulsion. Not a bad one. A good one. It's an attempt to peel back the layers, to discover and uncover truths. Universal truths. 

That is what this artist's blog/journal is about. Recording stuff as it happens, around me and in my head. I do it for fun, but also to learn and to grow. I also do it because I have always enjoyed reading auto biographies: people sharing their stories. This is me sharing mine. As it happens/occurs to me. With whoever stumbles upon it. 

Welcome to a modern day stream of consciousness mix of Jack Kerouac, Anne Frank, Salvador Dali, Raymond Carver and Dr Seuss. (For starters!)