The Earnestness of 'a Bubble.'


This, this track…







It was advice given to me. It took a little while to fully comprehend what she’d meant. Yet now, I’ve got the understanding down to an impenetrable fortress, I never wish to leave.


We have not sinned in Eden, but we have been born.


Lord knows how anyone else feels, but its like I was given all the wrong tools with which to understand how to live rightly, here, in the 21st Century as it is today? I mean its a fecking tricky place to navigate. And it's been like having to unlearn one set of tools, only to learn another, but in the process cause loads of major fuck up's using the wrong tools.


If that makes any sense, you'll uderstand 'the more spiritual path is not an escapism.'


Naturally free in spirit. Difficult to mould. An independent mind; kind of demanded, I dragged myself out from under the barrage of mind-programming and rigid authoritarian bullying, the System inflicts upon us ‘from the moment we are born.’ I was one of those that never got it, I recognised only the wonder of glistening frost on an autumn leaf, in the misty morning sunlight. The rest of this game of life, has never made so much sense to me.


Wholly rejecting the notion that life is a serious business, instead opting for the romance of it all; the bigger picture. It is how I’ve always been, ever taking the long way home. That lesser trodden path via a few desirably dodgy cul-de-sacs.


It’s December; I’m in Athens. The world an expensive oyster, but I don’t know what romantic notion next? Do I want to stay here in Athens, find a home? Stay close to friends I care about for a while? Or jump into the abyss of the unknown, and go travelling? I don’t know what I want to do??? So in the short term, until my indecision subsides. I’ve rented a room off Dimitrios, for minimal rent. A loo, shower, but no kitchen. Here, right in the centre of Athens, on the third floor, looking out across the ancient roof top, of what is Athens own central Meat market.



Here, me ‘atherdesk’ in the window. There’s me and only a few fat cat’s up here, like a bonus in the whimsical wonders, I find my desk now in a city space not overlooked by another building. Solitary in a lofted world, not glimpsed upon by the maddening crowd…


To access, this my space of a double bed and desk, there are two-coded door’s and a further door with ‘a key.’ In the story of the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe of a third floor room, and all the symbolism of life. I am untouchable. Raised to an ivory tower, existing in an impenetrable fortress; this is my bubble.


Me. A laptop, a camera, some ink and paper, enough clothes to last a week, a bank card, and for now a benefactor, called Mark.


I’m alive.


Beyond what I can carry, I own nothing.


Existing untethered, I’ve absolute freedom. I understand this now. Yet fuck, its taken me a life time to really understand, learning only by shackling myself ‘What freedom really is?’



To master unconditional love.


To live without attachment.


To exist without expectation.


Without desire for an outcome.


Gratitude being the food in your belly, the roof over your head.


What more do we actually need?


An addict, I’ve struggled...


Yet today, as Jo suggested, I’ve created myself a bubble. A bubble of calm nothingness. Within this, here free floating untethered, ever fluctuant within an already unstable 21st Century environment, is easier than trying to hang on. My point is ‘Let go…’



Here, bubbling about. Consciously choosing to float above the murdering mayhem of chaotic 21st Century life. Creating a sphere of protective-fibre between me and it, bouncing lofted above the mire of suffering, swollen with compassion, yet weary of letting it pull my bubble down. Off-grid and remaining alert to maintaining freedom; find me if you can?


I’ve nothing in life to tether me. No vision of the future. No desired outcome. No plan for myself, beyond the impetus, the dream I hold for what I wish to achieve creatively as an artist. Whilst this in itself makes my bubble quite complex. Of course I crave adventure; passion. However, this my need to exist in a bubble, is really, because my bubble has become increasingly sensitive, fragile to discord. With no desire to cause unnecessary turbulence that can knock my emotively threaded bubble off course. I’ve come to understand that the trick to retaining a healthy bubble, is to remain consciously alert to what, who or how much you place in your bubble.


Thing’s and people of only a particular creative essence and easy vibration are allowed in my bubble. All other extraneous object’s, things I’ve found vulgar after a time, and those tricky soul’s ‘I don’t get’ I float by. No judgement, but “Feck off...”


My bubble; my paradise. Really, we all compromise too much. The 21st Century is a mire of shit; we’re all entrapped in it, and this is why its important ‘to bubble.’ Rise above the stark reality of our ever quickening collective demise and concentrate on healing our own selves. Learning as I said, 'to let go' - dropping the stuff that keeps us in the shit, and slowly gradually over time, as we lighten our load, the bubble rises, and begins to float above the mire.



So my bubble, while a little scruffy at the moment. Another Tracey Emin bed ‘of creativity beyond domestic chores.’ Yet it’s a bubble; I’m here floating and on my way. Yet now I’m here, the realization is perhaps I don’t have to plateau here, maybe I can take this bubble a little higher??


Vibrate to a whole other level? Really, loft myself up there?


Float way way above?


Untether myself completely?


How pure and minimalistic can I actually evolve my bubble to be?



Maybe some things are essential? Yet there are crutches.


Coffee, tobacco, a daily spliff habit?


Not quite yet 'the glorious denizen.'


Still I must be getting something right, if only because there is a whole sense of less hassle up here. Bubbling about; lofted, untouchable, gently floating. 


However, if there is one tune that captures the essence of my bubble over the last couple of weeks, quietly bubbled above ‘the meat market.’


This Moderator’s ‘The World Within’ has been the hum. This is what it feels like here, in Athens. How ever many day’s before the new moon and the Winter Solstice of 2017.  Whilst the feeling is the track is about to change...


Yet still, I don’t know what I want?


No clarity to what or where next to bubble towards; instead I simply write...