A sunday in Heaton (Some things I love about Newcastle)

Today I've done nothing. I've smoked a load and sat in my chair. I saw Nate for a while, and Liam for a tiny bit. I've been thinking about what I love about Newcastle (Inspired in no small part by a conversation with Mark where he said he hated Newcastle). This is what I got...

-Looking up the Tyne from the high level bridge, looking directly onto the other bridges. It's real pretty.
-Smoking whilst walking from Heaton Park, through to Jesmond Dene, then back.
-High Bridge street, with Best Vintage, Union and End clothing.
-Walking from Heaton to town, through Sandyford park, breathing out clouds.
-The cranes on Wallsend riverside.
-Enjoying peppermint tea when it's raining and looking out of my bedroom window onto the rooftops of my back lane.
-Pink Lane; Stateside Diner, Electrik sheep and down onto Central Station.
-Northumberland Street for the accordionists, profiteering spiritual healers, and crazies.
-When I got to go up Greys Monument and look out over the top of the city. Gorgeous.

I'm going to think of more and update...

xo

This is just a confessional (And nothing more)

When I stare too long at a blank page, I forget how to process information in my brain- Words become codes I can't decipher, pictures become blurs of activity I can't organise. It is particularly bad when I'm working to deadlines.

My favourite hobbies are finding things, climbing and riding bikes.
I don't have a family, I have around four relatives who care about me.
My friends keep me happy.
"Hard work is simply the refuge of those with nothing better to do". I enjoy Oscar Wilde. I once played Algernon in a production of The Importance Of Being Earnest.

I believe that the revolution begins at home.
I smoke large amounts of cannabis in short periods of time and forget bad things. I am nursing a broken heart.
I have been told that I need to lighten up, and also that I should tone down the positivity. I get anxious over little things and can't stop it. I have a fear of large groups of people. I write every day. When I write prose, I write about something thats really happened. When I write lyrics, I write honestly. When I write notes for people I tell white lies.

I think of good idea's for gifts all the time, but rarely use them.
If I had one wish it would be to play guitar better. If I had one dream it would be to never have to work a pointless job again. I don't have any regrets.

I like to give Loveheart sweets to people to tell them what I think.
I enjoy notions of anarchy and autonomy but still buy clothes from expensive high street shops.
The only thing I like about my day-job is the amount of post-it notes I have access to. I've been told that I'm at my best when hungover.
I keep a diary, but only because my memories shot.
I abhor ideas of vanity and superficiality but still try to look as attractive as possible to the opposite sex. The best advice I've ever been given was to fall in love, not in line. I saw it written on a wall.
If I had to pick something about myself that I like, I'd probably say my ears. If I had to choose something I especially dislike, it would be my nose. It's large.

I have never played the National Lottery.

Steel Legs, Iron Lungs.

This is in part inspired by the riverside of my home town, Wallsend.

These cranes are strong,
They lift steel from the yard,
They lift crates and boxes,
But they couldn't lift my heart.
I watch the sequence of motion,
Disjointed and cold,
I watch the gears and the motors,
I trade them off for stories told.

I hold a memory so carefully in a part of my heart,
We were stood, enclosed, between two cars,
In the cold outside of your mothers house,
(and then you kissed me on the mouth).

These cranes are old,
They have memories and souls,
Like a camera or a matchbox,
That your father trusts you to hold.
And they crawled out of the sea,
On those sharp, metal skeleton knees,
And I swear they looked almost like burned, blackened tree's,
As they stood creaking and swaying in the breeze.

CALVINBALL: A very good band.

Calvinball played at my house (In Heaton) recently. They're F'n awesome. They play really anthemic melodic punk and their lyrics are real good and real fun. You can download some (Rad) tunes for free here...

Updateee- 'Fall in love, not off the roof'

Anyone been on the Byker Bridge lately? You may know this (Awesome) bridge as your quickest escape route from Shields Road (Bykers high street- quite savage), or as the roof whenever you're in the Ouseburn, sampling one of the very nice bars down there, or even just as a good place to catch a perfect little bit of scenery as the Ouse runs into the Tyne. However, it has recently become something a bit more than that, a place to see just how awesome one can be when in love.

If you do use the bridge as a viewing point for that nice little scene I mentioned earlier, you will have seen the carpet warehouse that resides to the right of the frame. It is huge, with a large bright RED roof (Capitals because red is awesome). Across this red shelter, there used to be the word 'CARPETS' written in large white type.

Not so long ago, however, a gent who found himself with free time on his hands and love in his heart climbed the dizzy heights of that warehouse and messed around with the lettering, until it read 'I LOVE U'. The first time I saw it my heart swelled. Imagine being that in love that you feel like you have to actually do that just to let the other peson know!

I do not know who did it, but I heard it was a dude, as opposed to a dudette. I guess his girlfriend/wife/suitor of any kind, is pretty awesome, and I'd say that the guy who did it is pretty crucial too. It's a super sweet thing to do. Check it out next time you're running away from Shields Road.

Colurful Character- The 'You won't believe what I saw' mental

The other day, Liam, Alex and my bad self were walking from Heaton to town. As we were sauntering along, I saw a gent on a bicycle in the distance. I was waiting to check out his bike (Bikes are pretty, so what?!), so watching intently. As he got closer, I saw it was an elderly gent. I LOVE seeing old people on bikes, so was filled with a little self-satidfied spark. It was shortlived.

He pulled over.
He said "Hey, lads, you'll never believe what I saw on Northumberland Street today!"
I'm the kind of chap who will always humour somebody who comes across as a bit crazy, as it's hilarious, and just because I'm pretty nice and well mannered anyway (Mostly). I said "Go on then, what'd you see?"

He leaned a bit closer… he lowered his speaking volume… He went "A bloke, with two wooden legs! But the funny thing was… He had both if his real feet…"

With that, he cycled off. Seriously, like, that was it! He pulled over, took a few seconds from his day (And remember, he was old, time isn't exactly on his side), confused us, and left. MENTAL!

I loved him, he was everything I look for in an eccentric- dressed a bit unorthodox, riding a bike, trouser legs tucked into socks, funny voice and one big mental personality trait… Awesome. I really, REALLY hope I see him again!

His bike was a rusty pile of scrap metal, by the way.

Colourful Character- The Roller Mental

I was sitting outside the Chillingham Arms a week or so ago, having a drink with Sophie. If you know the Chilli, you'll know that it's 'Beer garden' is actually no more than three tables looking out onto the busy, loud and slightly polluted Chillingham Road. Lovely scenery!

We were having a drink and talking, when a lady I can only describe as 'Classically off it' rolled past in her wheelchair. She was wearing those shades that don't have ear-bits, the ones that clip onto the front of your regular binoculars. I love those things, theres no bigger indicator that somethings not quite right with a person!

So, she roleld by, and stopped about 2-3 metres away from our table, and stared at us for a second before blowing us a kiss. I laughed, of course. She proceeded to blow a series of kisses our way, and I didn't pretend to catch ONE of them, as I didn't want to encourage her. I should also point out, at this point, she wasn't using the traditional 'Hands on wheels' rolling method, she was pushing her chair backwards along the busy street with her feet. An excelent sight.

After a few awkward seconds of kiss-blowing, she started to leave, by foot and by wheel, while laughing. Very loudly and in a very creepy manner. I was stunned.

She got across the road, and was on her mental way. She was awesome.

Update... a potential colourful character.

So has anybody else seen that young dude who walks up Northumberland Street, one finger pressed against the bud of his headphones, one hand dangling at his side, singing along to the Westlife tracks on his ipod? He sings REALLY loud, no shame whatsoever. My friend Nate said that he once saw him in town, and after a particulalrly emotive version of one of the many pointless, vapid Irish hits, he loudly pronounced 'I don't give a fuck WHO can hear me singing, I don't give a FUCK!'.

I reckon he probably absolutely does NOT give a fuck like.

If you've seen him, you'll know what I mean, why I'm so intrigued by the little guy. If you haven't seen him yet, keep your eyes open. The more we can learn about this fascinating creature, the better.

Dude out yo!
xo

The Victoria tunnel system- Newcastles secret streets.

Lots of people in the Newcastle area don't know that there is a system of tunnels running under their feet. These tunnels have been there since 1842 and have been used as a transport system for moving coal from one place to another, as a hugh contained air raid shelter in the second world war, as an art area in the 90's and, most oddly, as a mushroom farm.

I'm obviously intrigued about the tunnels 'cos like, I'm from Newcastle and it's quite, well... Intriguing. There are a few rumoured entrances, one being under the Byker Bridge, the Ouseburn. Apparently though, it's a good area to look if you want to get a good baghead-kicking, so I haven't investigated. I used to work at Subway on Grey street in town with Nate and we used to go down to the sub-basement and check out the internal entrance to the tunnels down there. It was too dark to see much of anything, but you could still kind of get a feel for the size of the cavern.

I really want to check it out, so if anybodys brave enough to face the unknown alleys of their own city, give me a shout.

Dude out.
xo

Newcastles colourful characters part two; Diet Slayer

Diet Slayer was one of my favourite creatures when I lived in the Tillys flat. He's this dude who wears like XL size 'metal shirts' (You know the ones, those black tee's with dragons on them, or some kind of warrior), even though he must weigh about 9 stone. He would walk by in his huge shirts and ridiculously tight jeans (Or occasionally leather pants), huge kathmandu boots clinking in the distance, every day, and I always liked catching him. 'Diet Slayer' was Callums name for him. I liked 'Slayer-lite', but Callums was more catchy. I wonder what that dude does for a living, that he could dress so outlandishly every day? He was about 35 too. I'm presuming he had a job, because he was in the city centre every day and although he looks unlikely, he doesn't look poor or crazy.

I've seen him in Heaton once since moving, and he looked the same, though he has acquired himself a she-slayer, to which I say 'You go dude!'.

xo

Newcastles colourful characters, part one; The sports enthusiast.

If you spend any time at the end of the city centre where Tillys bar, The Bodega, The Journal Theatre and Chinatown is, you may well have seen the chap who used to amaze and amuse me on a daily basis.

When I lived in the flat above Tillys, I saw a dude, every day, dressed in jogging bottoms, shorts over the top like some kind of mental superhero, a sweater with a Tee oer the top and a vest over the top of that. Every item of clothing had a different sub-par sports-wear label, the likes of FILA, Le Coq Sportif, View From, etc... He also wore a backwards visor. Ultra cool. I'm definitely going to upload a drawing of the sports enthusiast soon.

This dude just walked around that aea of town, seemingly aimlessly, nothing on his mind, just spicing up passer-by's lives, day in, day out. I totally applaud him for that.

He still wanders round that area and he still dresses like theres been a one-man raid on the Donnay shop or something. He's still worth checking out.

Also, if you feel the need to be rude to this dude just because he looks a little eccentric, you're a bad person and should stop reading this blog.

FRFI

Theres a group of people you might have seen on the streets of Newcastle, promoting acceptance, equality and liberty. Those guys are called Fight Racism, Fight Imperialism. If you see them, approach them! They're nice dudes (and dudettes), and will always take the time to talk to you.
They're non-profit and could really use assistance in promoting their efforts. You could put on an awareness show, help them canvass, post leaflets or even just sign a petition.

Thanks!

The first day

So, this is the first post on the blog. I really just want to go on about things that are happening in this City, from people I've seen to things I've noticed.

I'm currently fighting the fading effects of swine flu, and although I didn't want to buy in to such a fashionable illness, I thought 'Maybe theres something in it', and took the sicknote from my doctor (who I like a lot- she's real nice). I was in town today, on Northumberland Street, after my visit to the surgery, and in around ten minutes I saw a couple things that really made me think a bit .
I saw two police officers giving what looked like the hassling of a lifetime to a woman. She had a kid with her, I'm presuming her son. One policeman was talking to her, the other was holding the boy. She was talking and getting a bit excitable and the little boy was crying real loud. I don't know what had happened, but we assumed she may have been caught shoplifting, what with the footsoldiers attitudes. What will happen to that little boy? Will he be taken to the police station to ait with his mum or will he be taken to a guardians place or..? I dunno. But it wasn't nice to watch. The woman was foreign, or at least speaking in a foreign accent. I hope that boy has somewhere he can go so he doesn't have to wait in the station, it's a totally un-rad environment, especially for youngsters.

My mood was lifted within five minutes though, when I saw an elderly gent* walking along the street in a fully hilarious style. He looked like he had just stepped out of a time machine, he was really frantic, looked a little worried and was seemingly very curious. He made me smile. I wonder if that dude has family, or friends he hangs with, or maybe a walking partner, who joins him in his excited stumbles around the city centre. Either way, he was crucial.

I'm gonna update accordingly, as my mind wanders.

* For those interested in the elderly, you should check out my firend Nialls zine, 'The Elderly'. contact Niall via his blog www.llainsevaerg.blogspot.com