Mentalechoes

The old photograph collection I have from the years of my 30’s has been buried in the back of a cupboard at the back of my flat for a time longer than I can remember. They never came out at all in the last few years, and I’d really forgotten that the albums filled with at a thousand glossy paper memories existed until this weekend when I undertook a massive flat wide clean up. As I pulled the volumes out of the dark and into the light of day I flipped through the pages all filled back to back with frozen moments and brought forward to consciousness a flood of experiences I had given up.

It was a profound feeling; surreal in the blur of emotions that whirred through heart with each turn of the plastic holders. I looked at the pictures of the younger me, surrounded by the younger people I knew, some of them still in my life, others gone like last summers sun shine, and remembered.

I was a different person back then, happier, more carefree, yet always intense and chasing something deeper and constantly moving. Many of the pictures showed me now what I had failed to see back then too; that there were people with a deep feeling for me, that went beyond what words they would say.

Looking back I could see me then and look at a person that was free from the realities that were to come, but also see a person who constantly doubted everything that he saw around him and felt like he had to push forward onto something else that he could barely understand; a future free from doubt.

It led to this place here and now.

I guess the thing for me is that the photos showed that the people we are and were are not separate, but the same, we simply choose to forget or ignore those sides of ourselves that time moves into the background, but they are not ever truly lost. Our essential self can always change and modify as we grow with time, but we never have to leave behind the best parts of ourselves that we want the most. It seems as we get older the pressure of life always makes us feel that things get harder, but I think that’s just how we interpret changing responsibilities, and that our position becomes one where more is at stake with each decision we take.

Looking through those pics I was reminded of some important things, and for me at least, it has made a positive change in remembering the good things about the life I was given. And also, to do something I’ve forgotten to do that is important.

The next 10 years deserves those lessons.

Andy.

When I was twenty years old, I never knew my fathers mind. It seemed all the choices he made in life were wrong, and even I could see that back then, even though I knew I had very little real experience at anything to do with adult life. Twenty years later I can look now at my dads life and understand a lot more of why he made the choices that he did, and why his life went the path it did.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot the last few days. I understand why dad got divorced, and why he went into the relationships with those women that came after. I understand this because to some extent I’ve lived to see being faced with the same choices. The difference is I did not repeat his mistakes, because I knew what they cost.

As sons, we all learn from our fathers, however all my lessons were seeing what roads not to go down; what behaviour was wrong; and what thinking would eventually lead to tragedy. I suppose in the end I feel lucky that at least I have been able to take something positive from his role model despite his actions that were anything but.

I have met a lot of people in life complain that they had a rough start because of their family. Fathers, or mothers that never showed them enough attention, or love, or gave them enough material things to satisfy them. Some of these people genuinely had tragic childhoods, while others only perceive it so when the reality was, they had quite sheltered upbringings. If it’s one thing I can say now with conviction, it’s that we as individuals must go beyond the limitations that surrounded us during our early years, and become better than the sum of the individuals who were with us at that time.

If we don’t, we will only walk the same paths.

Andy.

Tags: sons, understanding

Truly the benefits of having recently ripped my entire cd collection is beginning to show itself like the bare legs of women on the first warm days of spring. I decided that tonight I would do some work overhauling my weblogs (as once again I’ve decided that writing IS important to me, and I really should write more). Being a person who thinks best when there is some rhythmic electronic beat pulsating in my brain, I fired up me trusty old winamp and scrolled through the collection looking for just that something special. My eye caught Seb Fontaine’s Prototype 1 CD , an absolute classic that came out in 1999, and was the anthem sound to my Y2K new years eve party night, and one that I hadn’t heard in a loooong time. So I loaded it up, and went back to work.

I wasn’t even paying attention to what I was listening to, as I was getting very intense into the work at hand, making everything on my weblogs just so, when I became aware of the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise in some sort of primal way, and feel my lips pull back in a half smile, half frenzied snarl of lust. Some tune was banging out that I couldn’t remember the name to, but at a subconcious level a flood of experiences unlocked and flowed over me!

Wow! For the next 7 minutes I was taken on a ride that was almost orgasmic in its effect! I couldn’t sit still, at one point I got up and started jumping around my computer room like I was back on the dance floor in Si Hall’s flat in the middle of Amsterdam on fuckin new years eve, man! WHOOO HOOO! I could almost feel the exctasy flowing through me once more, and see the laughing faces of the people that were there that night. I closed my eyes at one point and almost, nearly almost, could hear the sounds of the party lilting through my living room, as if I was back there. Ahh, the bliss! A time of love and glory my friends. It was a night to remember, and one that I will take with me for the rest of my days!

The tune happens to be number 7 on the second disc; I Dream – (with Tilt). And even now, nine years after its first debut, I still think this is one of the best progressive electronic compositions ever made! This is one you crank up loud and ride the rush! Mind you, the whole of the second cd is just goddamned fookin amazing, ey! And seriously worth listening to.

This revelation with music is one I have recur in my life at long but regular intervals; I’ll go a year without really feeling intense about anything, and then I’ll have this moment of enlightenment that totally blows me away as I come across an old tune, or music composition that almost makes me cry with pleasure and memory.

I guess that’s what makes the experience so fantastic; to have it fade, and then come upon me again with an intensity that rocks me to the core.

Andy.

So I’m back again after a period of absence. I guess you could call it self imposed; I just let myself drop out when stuff to do with work started piling up and drowning me. Funny thing is, I’ve seen this cycle before, and so know where it leads. Not that it makes much difference knowing ahead of time, as it seems an inevitablity to enter a cycle when you’re sitting at the entrance.

As I sat in my flat today I was doing some idle browsing around YouTube. Not with any intent or purpose, but just randomly looking at images and letting them fill my head. Without even consciously thinking about it, I typed in Mike Oldfield – one of my favourite muscians – and found his Tubular Bells video. This really captured a feeling inside of me on so many levels it’s almost impossible to describe the flow of thoughts as they occurred. Seriously this would have to be one of the most amazing and intense peices of music ever composed, and to listen to it over and over again gave me goose bumps each time. I think to have been there at the concert would have been taking part in a very special event at that time and that place. And it was thinking about what it must have been like to have been there, that I realised events will always move as time moves, and we will always be travelling through a cycle of life.

I guess we are always reinventing ourselves in cycles as well. As people we aren’t constant, we are in a constant state of flux; evolving with each contact of the minutae of our environment. Some of these we can consciously effect, but many we can’t. This is what makes some changes within ourselves more visible than others.

I suppose for me this return to my blogging is important because it means coming out of isolation. It doesn’t matter that noone reads what I write, what is important is that I write it. After all, the feeling of reaching out and having an effect on someone the way Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells had an effect on me, is really why I write. I’ve been touched by some extraordinarily good writing by a couple of bloggers, and I like to think that my writing could do the same for at least one other person out there in the internet.

Coming back, I’m not going to go by my alias anymore. I feel to some extent, I’ve outgrown it. Originally it was there because I wanted to maintain some sense of privacy, because I like to write about work sensitive stuff like drugs and, well drugs. But anyone who really wanted to could find out who I am, so there is no point trying to hide behind a name. So now, I’m just going to go by my name; Andy. And you can all – all four of you who read me – get to know just that much more intimately!

Andy.

I remember it all; the party, the people, and all the gear on the tables around the flat. No alcohol stupor for me, nor the missing time effect that so many others would face when they woke up on the morning after. It was a hardcore crowd though, make no mistake, not satisified with chit chat and gin and tonics in the living room. No this group wanted to feel the rush of the approaching new year, and have the surge take them across midnight into their field of dreams.

I got into the swing of things, being picked up by the general crowd fever of excitement and thirst for intoxication; I didn't want to be left behind, so I put my own head to the table and went with the flow. A little while later, when the clock struck midnight, I held my sparkler in the air and twirled it at the stars while singing Auld Lang Syne, my heart full of cheer.

I remember looking around the room many times during that night of the party, seeing the faces of the crowd, most of whom I knew, and remembering the history behind them. The last year had been a good one despite how terrible some of the bad days of my breakup had been. I could think back to a lot of fun times with this group who I had come to call my friends; they were a balance to everything else that was painful. I felt happy to see out the old, and in with the new, with them by my side.

It was around 7am on that day of the first when we finally put on our coats and headed outside to the dim grey dark early morning, that is the norm for winter in Europe. There were only 2 people left around the table, now all covered in party litter, like a ships bottom is covered with barnacles. My little group was one of the last to go and by that time our feet ached and our heads were blurred and sluggish. Little matter, it was a whole day to sleep it off, when sleep would come. The important thing was, it was a night to remember, and a long kiss goodbye to that babe of a year, 2007.

Padwanna

I've built an office in my flat in what should be the small dining room, but since I am not the kind of person that throws chic dinner parties – my tastes for entertanment have always been much more exotic bohemian – it's always been my internet computer room. A chick friend took me to Ikea a few weeks back (I did my best to avoid the kitchenware section, but we ended up there for half an hour anyway, and on a friday night of all times, so I now consider myself officially "middle aged"), and I bought a massive big commercial office desk. Surprisingly there was almost no pain putting it together, thanks to the chick who has furniture building skills any carpenter would have been impressed with, and now I sit at a desk facing a large window view of the outside world.

My flat is on the second floor. When the office window curtains are open, the world can look in and see me, as easily as I can see the world outside. For the first couple of weeks, I used to sit at my desk with the curtains closed. I wasn't comfortable having them open when I would sit down there, no matter what time of the day or night it was. I can't really articulate in words why I felt like that either. I guess I just didn't like the feeling of strangers looking at me when I was doing something deeply personal, like sitting in front of my computers. It's not that I have something to hide, but there is an intimate world behind the screen that I get sucked into, and it's not something I share.

Today however, for the first time, I was sitting here, at my desk, in the late afternoon, with the curtains open. The sun was glowing bright orange and shining through the thinning branches of the trees across the street. Each of the branches becoming more bare with each passing day as their leaves turn light brown, then dark brown eventually falling to the ground. People were strolling through the falling leaves; some walking dogs; some walking kids; some walking hand in hand; and some walking alone, yet all of them walking through the falling leaves. There was a serenity in that moving moment of scenery that was beautifully accompanied by some silky smooth lounge tunes from my favourite radio station ETN.FM in the background.

I realised at that moment, that my beautiful view was not just about what was in front of me, but also being a part of it. To see something, and in turn being seen, makes you part of the canvas that is the picture of the world.

I've not closed my curtains since then.

Padwanna!

I didn’t expect it would come so quick, the day when I would be leaving my job for another place. I’ve been there for over two and a half years, it’s the longest amount of time I’ve ever been with any one single employer, and I thought I would stay there for a while longer yet. But something came along that I wasn’t expecting, and persisted through my long months of apathy, refusing to go away, even after the first contract acceptance date expired. I get the feeling it’s somewhere I’m meant to be, otherwise I’m sure it wouldn’t have worked out the way it did.

I came across a blog today by Marc Andreessen, he’s that guy that co-wrote the first internet browser that brought internet to the digital masses – that had a profound affect on my day. Two things in particular he said really struck a chord with me.

The second rule of career planning: Instead of planning your career, focus on developing skills and pursuing opportunities.

The issue is that without taking risk, you can’t exploit any opportunities.

That’s exactly what this next move felt like to me; I wasn’t doing it for the money or because I disliked my current job… that much. No it was more because this was an opportunity that I had never seen before, and if I didn’t take this, then maybe I would never see another one like it again. I don’t actually believe there is any such thing as a truly once in a lifetime opportunity, but one like this one I won’t see it’s equivalent in this time, or in this place, after it passes. It is a risk to move for me right now, I’m comfortable and the business model of my current company is sound, so money is coming in. This next place is an internet startup, so it might not be around in 4 years. If it is however, I’m going to do well financially, and if it isn’t, I’m still going to do well with the skills I’ll get out of it, but I’m going to have to find something else to pay my way with.

There used to be a time in life when I was pretty big on taking big risks, and with that came big rewards. My life is still a testament to those risks I took over 10 years ago; I’m living in Europe, living a life that is a dream to many others, and something only a handful of people will ever experience. The last couple of years though, I stopped taking risks, any risks, and I noticed that I started to stagnate. Life wasn’t going backwards, but it wasn’t going forwards either. It was sitting in an idle gear waiting for something to happen. That only ever results in days going by, and not much else. I’m not someone with a lot to protect, I’m not married, and I don’t have kids, so I can still go out there and take a risk and see what comes of it. In the end, I know I will always be alright, and I will always be able to get a job to pay the bills and put food on the table.

I feel more motivated now than I have in a long time. I felt excited today as I took the 20 minute slow walk from the office to my friends house where I was visiting. I started thinking of all the possibilities that lay before me, not just in the immediate future, but in the long term future that really is only in the realms of dreams. They didn’t seem so hazy, but a little more tangible, as if they were on the horizon of possibility.

Perhaps this is a moment I have been waiting for, but I just haven’t realised it yet. At the very least I am happy that now the world is turning in new and exciting ways. What will be the outcome? Well that is very much a blank page waiting for the hand of fate to begin writing.

Padwanna!

I've been here before; sitting at the start of the circle, or is it the end; trying to work out if it was the start of something new, or the end of something old. Is and end a new beginning; or is a beginning an end? Yes it is, no it's not; who the fuck can tell?!

Circles; cycles; patterns within a history. You tell me, is it the same as last time, or different, because I don't know any more?!

My friend tells me there is no such thing as true love, it's a western illusion, designed to make you spend money. But if this is true, why are there fairy tales, of knights in shining armour, crossing oceans, climbing mountains, and slaying dragons, all to be with the one they love?!

The power of love; the delusion of love; the myth of love. Who's to say, what's real and what's not! In the end, only your heart can tell you!

Padwanna!