Working at night
Every so often, quite out of the blue, I wake in the middle of the night absolutely wired with a sense of pure and utter aliveness, an awareness of being embodied and the importance and gift of that. It’s like an involuntary switch gets flicked in my mind, and that is it, I am awake.
Often, it is with an awareness of the state of the world at large, of the bigger picture and my tiny humble part within it. It is energetic sensations running through my veins, localised, potent picking up on what’s going on at large, funnelled down to this little human vessel that I borrow. It also happens on full moon.
I used to try to go back to sleep. Not anymore.
Once I realise I am simply closing my eyes and feigning rest, enough is enough. I do not resist being alive and awake.
I now recognise it straight away for what it is and I accept it with grace, then zeal.
I’m not talking here about nights where one is awake because you are worried, anxious or fearful. No certainly not that.
I’m talking about the feeling of "I’m alive and I sincerely and deeply need to do something with this intensity, this passion for life and the gift of being alive.”

Hands of the clock, Zsi Chimera
So, I sit up, turn on the lamp and write. At times like this it is easy to do so, pages and pages for hours, so focused.
Eventually it gets light and I’ve missed the main bulk of rest.
The first time I remember doing this was at university, which was an incredibly stimulating and informative time. The friends I made who opened my eyes to new ways of seeing and our shared experiences that woke me up, the existential questions and the passionate discussions. All influencing one another with delight taking us to new realms in our minds, places I had not yet accessed. Full of this vibrancy, so stimulating, we were questioning and searching.
I would wake then as I do now.
To work at night is exciting.
It is joyous to know that conventionally it is a time when I should be in slumber, in darkness, and I am not.
What really matters and concerns me most comes to the surface, from the unconscious.
The room I am awake in is quiet, the people I live with are asleep, I imagine the local neighbourhood, then further afield, everyone snoozing tucked up in their beds.
Of course there are millions of others awake too.
But in that room I am occupying, alone and quiet it doesn’t matter what anyone else is doing. It is just me and the page and I am focused.
Being awake when others are unconscious is a great symbol of an appetite and an engagement in what it is to be alive, of being in this human experience.
There is a state of passionate urgency within. Everything is pregnant with potential.
So excited about being alive that you have to do something about it in an instant.
To wake while many sleep is the time to work.
To wake while many sleep is the time to work.
To wake while many sleep is the time to work.
In these dark times, now is the time to get to work.
Awake in the darkness while so many are unconscious.
Keep working.
On leaving & coming back home (by the sea)

On train in West Sussex
I was born in Shoreham-by-Sea, grew up in Worthing.
I left home when I was 19 to go to university in Kingston. After graduating I lived and worked in the halls of residence for the summer then moved to London. First place was a scuzzy flat in Whitechapel in a Bangladeshi neighbourhood, 30 seconds from Brick Lane. We signed the contract in a Burger King in Islington, that set the tone. I remember opening a cupboard door and the whole thing fell off the wall and everything slid diagonally to the left crashing violently, it was like being on a ship or the stage set of The Young Ones. The boiler constantly broke, we used a gas and electirc key which we often forgot to top up. Our land lord was unreachable and when we finally managed to get hold of him he’d come up with unconvincing excuses like “sorry I got hit by a bus.” So it was cheap and that’s what we wanted. I lived with Hannah and Louis who I met on the Fine Art Degree.
The following summer Hannah and I managed to save a little and took ourselves to Spain then travelled across the USA for 2 months, from New York to Nevada on Grey Hound buses and Amtrack trains. I lived off a grand for the whole trip just by the skin of my teeth.
I moved back to Worthing with my folks for about 9 months, my gran lived with them and my uncle moved in too, as he was dying of lung cancer, we came together to support one another until he died.
I then moved back to London in 2007, stayed with friends for a couple of months until I found a group of artists who I moved in with in a warehouse in Hackney Wick, it had an enormous open studio where we all worked. There were about 8-12 of us living there at any given time. We gutted it and built the wall partitions to make our bedrooms, there was no heating, which was really tough in winter, it felt like sleeping in a car park, I slept in a hat and scarf with 2 hot water bottles, one for my feet and one for my belly with 2 duvets. There was a mouldy shower and the most unhygenic kitchen. The warehouse overlooked the canal and the site where the olympic stadium was being built. We had group crits, life drawing evenings, projected films on the huge walls, held group exhibitions, we participated in Hackney Wicked Festival, and collaborated on work together. There were parties. I was there for 2 years when the time came to move on.
I couch surfed for a couple of months until I found the next place. A lovely two bed flat in Hackney Central where I have been living the last 5.5 years. Hackney was like a proper home for me and I loved living with just one flat mate. I finally had heating which was like the biggest luxury ever. Four different people lived there over those years. The last couple of years, I shared with Woody, we made the front room into a studio where we could work til the late hours riffing off one another, making work together and generally playing. There was wine and music. I loved that flat and our time together there.
I had been considering leaving London for the last couple of years. The struggle of living hand to mouth on the earnings I was on, never being able to save and the rising rent prices every year. This slowly started pushing a lot of people to the outskirts or out of London altogether to find alternative affordable places to live. This included a lot of friends who were also increasingly frustrated with various aspects of London and the ever growing gentrification process.
I went up to Edinburgh in 2012 and was considering moving there. It was winter, so freezing that it made me angry which ruled out the possibility instantly. I couldn’t bare it and realised I didn’t want to be that far away from my loved ones. Scotland has since remained a place I retreat to when I need time in nature.
I researched living in Bristol with a visit last year where many friends had moved to from London. But it didn’t feel the right place for me. I considered for a while moving to Brighton, as every time I come home, with Worthing being down the road I would always go straight to Brighton to see friends. I have a very strong link and pull towards it as a place.
At one point I was keen on the idea of moving to Berlin, as I’m half German and thought it could be a fresh new start, I also have friends there and it could be a bold step to shake things up a bit.
All in all I was in London about 10 years. I left London in May this year not knowing where I would end up living. I just knew I wanted a big change and to flick all the switches at once. Work, home, city, all of it. Change.
My plan was simply to be completely open to what was in front of me to what life presents, to trust in life unfolding instead of trying to shape and control it too much. I slowly said goodbye to the clients I had spent many years building up, my beloved Hackney Central flat and sweet flat mate, my friends and my deep connection to London and its culture. My relationship to London is deep and strong and will always remain, but I didn’t want to live there anymore. I had done my time. I spent my most formative years there, from 23-32. The over crowding getting worse on public transport, the close proximity of people and constant stimulus was unhealthy. I needed space and time in a more natural place.
I came to the conclusion, that what I would spend living for a couple of months simply just getting by in London, that I could, for that same amount, 2 thousand, I could leave everything and go on an adventure to shake things up. I would leave and embrace the not knowing where I’ll end up part. I spent much of 2015 making this one of my main projects.
So I left my flat on 1st May, which was the deadline I set myself. I couch surfed with friends.
On the 1st June I headed to France with Hannah. The adventure began. We started on The Camino De Santiago pilgrimage together across Northern Spain. She was with me for 10 days, of which 6 were spent walking. Once she left to fly back to the UK, I carried on and the real personal journey began. (I plan on writing a blog on this here in the near future). I managed to walk the entire 775km of the pilgrimage in 30 days, I was in Spain for 5 weeks.
I spent 6 months travelling all in all. I went to a festival in Denmark. I volunteered in different communities in the UK, spent quite a bit of time in Scotland. Most of this period was indeed, spent in nature. There was a lot of writing, photography, walking and meditating. I worked in various places and communities in exchange for food and a bed. I had enough to tie me over to get from A to B. It was a fine art and I lasted until a couple of weeks ago ( I worked for money for only 1 month of this period) when I came back to stay with my folks.
By this point I had thought I would end up moving to Brighton after a few months touching base at home.
But an unexpected change of personal circumstances and an outside opportunity means that it looks like I will actually be living in Worthing now. This is something I didn’t see coming and I am going with it and currently getting my head around.
The last place I thought I would live turns out to be the place I left 13 years ago.
So I have come home.
Who knows what will happen in the next year, let alone the next 5 years. There is always the missing part of the jigsaw, tha parts that you don’t know are coming. The people you meet, the life events that unfold. The influences around you.
Because of the amount of life experiences I’ve had since leaving home, when I walk down the old street of little terraced houses where I grew up in Broadwater I feel huge. My mind has expanded and changed. It’s like coming back to a toy town.
So now, here I am. Back where I started. I am going to gradually set up a new life for myself down here again unexpectedly. Get work, new clients, create, work hard, make new friends and reconnect to old ones.
Today I find myself feeling a new sense of appreciation for where I grew up. What a beautiful part of the country it is. When I need a break from working indoors, writing and looking for work again, I take myself off quietly for a walk, which is what a lot of 2015 has been about, walking. The beach is just 15 minutes away.

The open sea, November 30th 2015
I am hit by the openness of the space before me when I look out. The dramatic waves, the grey sky, the fresh air, the sea breeze. I love it.
There are obviously fewer people, than what I’m used to in London. I have space around me that I could not get in London, being in such close proximity to one another.
I am using this period as a time to hiberate for the winter and gather myself for the new. I am determined to be more prolific in my work. It is about hard work and focusing. It is a time where I can get on with my own projects build things up from scratch using all my experience to decide what happens next. It is not about Worthing as a cool place to live, as that is just not the case. You do have to leave for that. It is about the sea and the sound of the sea gulls. I am not going to pretend that the main thing Worthing has going for it is that it’s near Brighton. As a place to lay my head at night, to walk by the sea, to work hard and to pay cheaper rent, yes to Worthing, 25 mins from it’s big sis Brighton I can handle.
I will visit London fairly regulalrly keeping my contacts there and getting my culture hits, see the odd old client. I will go to Brighton regualrly as this will be a life line to socialising with friends. I also hope to get work in Brighton. I like that am I am not living in Brighton because it means I can enjoy visiting it regularly but without the rent which is ever increasing. So I get the best of both worlds.
Living back in Worthing this time, unexpectedly, does feel like a coming home, it’s familiar, but with renewed purpose and possibilities.
Right now I appreciate shelter, warmth, family, meeting old friends, grounding and having the space to create the next phase of my life and again be open to who comes into my life. To all my friends living in London and thinking of leaving. I seriously would consider moving to Worthing. I live a few minutes from the station which gets you to London in an hour and a half and Brighton in 25 minutes. Living here is not as expensive as either of those places. I guarantee that in the next couple of years there’ll be articles in the likes of The Sunday Times magazine or Guardian supplement and all those cocky papers on why you should move down here. But I just wanted to say it on here first!
Also to my friends, if you want a break by the sea, come visit me, I’m ready for you. Maybe you are thinking of relocating and researching other possibilities too, so come do some of your own research into other options. There is life outside of London, life goes on. It is hard to feel pushed out. But there are alternatives.
It is OK and the air is fresh.
See you soon.
Here are some photos I took on the windy atmospheric walk along the coast today.






Note to self, on Values
I wrote this to myself when I was staying in a caravan in a field for a month this Autumn in the Cotswolds, where I was working in a kitchen in the day and spent a lot of time writing at night, it was a very solitary time. I wrote this in one sitting at about 4 in the morning on full moon when I couldn’t sleep.
I could keep it to myself. Or I could just share it.
I’m sharing it.
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Kindness, no matter what is going on.
Kindness, kindness, kindness
Always remember how important this is and do not underestimate the effect this has on others even the tiniest of gestures.
It does matter
The only way to respond to madness is to stay sane
Do not have expectations of others, why should what someone else does affect your underlying wellbeing?
Trust in life’s unfolding, in its innate wisdom
Surrender to the unknown
Let go
Do not try to control life, listen to what is happening and respond to it accordingly
Go about your day offering positivity into the world, every interaction and gesture matters, it adds up to create your entire life
Be in the moment
Now
Beneath all movement and activity is stillness, it’s always there, once you’ve accessed it you can always come back to it, it is beneath everything.
Remember, now that you have direct experience of it, you can always remember and choose to reveal it in any given moment.
Pay attention
Breathe
Spend at the very least 10 minutes a day sitting quietly in meditation
Connect to the sun directly, closing your eyes, recharging and connect to the source whenever you can
Feel the cooling presence of the moon on your mind
Listen
Be that which you wish others to be for you
If you want something give it away
Dad: “life is one big cosmic soup waiting for you to add your unique ingredient”
Kevin: “life is a giant playground”
If you have an urge to respond to something, make art of some kind, be creative, go with that instinct, that is when things are authentic and potent, use that energy and direct it while it’s hot and full of fire, act quickly, seize the power
Try new things regularly
Gaze out of the window when travelling and let your mind wander
When you feel that impulsive feeling where you want to do something out of the ordinary to shake life up a bit, and you almost chicken out, like it’s close to slipping away, do it in that instant. You know how good it feels.
Why worry? The moment will be over before you know it.
Walk regularly, it is when you are between the two worlds
Be conscious of what you eat
Love
Live through the heart, connect to it daily, this is your main practise as this Martina
“True wealth lies in the heart” Desikachar
Read regularly
Finish things before you start new projects
Always learn or develop a skill
Friendship, family and community is the most important thing
Do not identify with your thoughts, they are not who you are
Be generous and open hearted
After heart ache when your heart closes its doors, come back to your innate abundance again and again no matter how painful, stay connected, it’s part of being human to be hurt by others
If you feel you want to compliment someone give them a compliment, don’t hold back, you have no idea what it could mean to them
Charisma and charm are beautiful things to possess in life
Be true to yourself
Authenticity is everything
Allow your nature to be as it is, do not try to be anything other than yourself
No need to try to be anyone
We are all made up of the same stuff, treat people equally
Do not gossip or speak badly of others
Make art in whatever form you feel and share it with the world
Perform
Write, develop this part always
Write everyday
Share
Be there for your friends and remember what an honour it is to be able to help others when you are strong
Work hard, have a strong work ethic
Treat everyone with the respect they deserve
We are all equal
Respond to what is, not what you think it should be
Be generous
Live from a place of abundance
Share your vulnerability
In this fast paced world don’t feel like you have to keep up, stand still, do less than you are told to do. Being busy is lazy. Be still and focus on what is infront of you.
One thing at a time.
Never take for granted when you are feeling mentally, physically and emotionally healthy, you know how awful depression is. Appreciate good health on all levels.
Always be there for friends, look out for friends in hard times
List 5 things at the end of each day you are grateful for
Spend time regularly being quiet
Life is too short for self doubt, you have a right to create and share what is real for you in this experience of being human
You could die tomorrow, so live fully and deeply with joy
The world responds energetically to what you are putting out
All of the experiences you are having now are as a result of past decisions and actions, what do you want to do now? Direct your attention and make it happen.
Peace
Laurie Lee on Charm, me on Charisma
This autumn on my travels I read Laurie Lee’s ‘I Can’t Stay long’, a collection of essays and stories, in which there is a five page piece called ‘Charm’ which I found, as you may suspect, utterly charming.
Here are some favourite parts that I underlined...
It opens with:
“Charm is the ultimate seduction, against which there are few defences. If you’ve got it, you need almost nothing else, neither money, looks nor pedigree. It’s a gift, only given to give away, and the more used the more there is.”
And continues with these most excellent ones…
“Real charm is dynamic, an enveloping spell which mysteriously enslaves the senses. It is an inner light, fed on reservoirs of benevolence which well up like a thermal spring”
“You recognise charm by the feeling you get in its presence. You know who has it”
“Apart from the ability to listen - rarest of all human virtues and most difficult to sustain without vagueness - apart from warmth, sensitivity, and the power to please, what else is there visible? A generosity, I suppose, which makes no demands, a transaction which strikes no bargains, which doesn’t hold itself back till you’ve filled up a test-card making it clear that you’re in trouble.”
“It reveals itself also in a sense of ease, in casual but perfect manners, and often in a form of serenity of mind. Any person with it is more than just a popular fellow, he is a social healer.”
“But charm, in the end, is flesh and blood, a most potent act of behaviour, the laying down of a carpet by one person for another to give his existence a moment of honour”
“Charm is the rarest, least used, and most invincible of powers, which can capture in a single glance. It is close to love in that it moves without force, bearing gifts like growth of daylight”
And finally, culminates in this line:
“In the armoury of man, charm is the enchanted dart, light and subtle as a hummingbird. But it is deceptive in one thing - like a sense of humour, if you think you’ve got it, you probably haven’t.”
He knew. Old Laurie Lee. Oh how I love his words.

Reading Lee’s personal analysis of this wonderful human quality inspired me to write on charisma, another marvellous quality some human beings are graced with posessing.
One definition of charisma is
1. A special personal quality or power of an individual making him capable of influencing or inspiring large numbers of people
2. a quality inherent in a thing which inspires great enthusiasm and devotion
Listening to Russell Brand talk a few years ago, who personally, I find incredibly charismatic, he quoted Quentin Crisp on what charisma is:
“Charisma is the ability to influence without logic”
Like charm, I’m not convinced charisma is something you can try to possess. One can’t practise becoming more charismatic, well of course you can try, but am not sure you will entirely succeed. This makes me instantly think of angry or frustrated Buddhists I’ve met in my life who refer to themselves as Buddhists. Better, perhaps not to claim to be one. Leave that to others to decide?
There are tons of self help guides out there on this kind of stuff. Entrepreneurs and Life Coaches who wrote books in the 90s, when Anthony Robbins and Wayne Dyer were novel and new. There are numerous articles or tips listed online about how to be charismatic. But that’s a bit lame isn’t it? Not real.
Like when you see people reading these books in public on the underground. Reminds me of the phrase, ‘don’t air your dirty laundry in public’. If you’re going to read ‘How to win friends and influence people’ maybe start by doing so quietly and furthermore, alone.
Some people have just got it, charisma, quite naturally, like charm. It’s odd when you can feel someone trying to be something they are not. Just as it is utterly strange when you can see someone sitting in front of you whose read somewhere that mirroring your body language will make you like them, or when they lightly touch your elbow when ‘practising flirting’. It’s not natural because its orchestrated which means it is inauthentic. Better to be real, allowing things to happen. So if magnetic qualities like charm and charisma are a gift, of grace, a natural quality a person posesses within and therefore shares by simply being…Maybe now I am getting somewhere…
In simply being.
What are some of the qualities that makes up charisma?
Presence is key, as is warmth, the ability to listen, a certain quiet confidence, the ability to share vulnerability, humour and more.
Charisma. It’s almost onomatopoeic depending on how you say it, maybe in a New York 1950s gangster accent, or with empahasis on its metre.
I can visualise it in colours. Bright and expansive. It’s energetic, vibrant, present to the vitality of the moment. A slight urgency of living. Of being human and beyond. It shares and reaches out. It is positivity and pure possibility. All the good stuff.
Authenticity is everything to the quality of charisma. In fact Authenticity, is everything. I could write about that too.
One quote I want to end this little piece of little thoughts with is one I find continually life enhancing. When I try out what it suggests my life transforms instantaneously. Every interaction becomes so utterly potent, genuine and most of all tender. Instantly kinder and loving. It is this beast of a quote, said by someone called Og Mandino. Check it out:
“Beginning today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness and understanding you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again.”
Feel the feeling of charm and charisma arise simply by being, the interactions that follow are so much more real and beautiful. Refined and authentic.
Never mind what you are or what you’rd like to be. I have never much cared for the term ’self improvement’.
No to Self improvement. Yes to Self Revealing. In being. Revealing. Charming, charismatic, authentic. Real. True.
Listen carefully to others, pay close attention. Take the focus away from yourself, of trying to be this or that kind of person, better than, or more than. Or ‘growing’ as a person.
Simply listening and being with who is infront of you, truly in the moment and the charm of being whole heartedly human, let’s honour eachother and see how our relationships and lives enhance every day together.
A few qualities to think about, a few quotes to mull over.
On Patti Smith
If you’re an admirer of Patti Smith, you will know it was the 40th anniversary of the release of Horses this year. That she galavanted around the world on tour performing the album. As those who know me, will only be too aware, she is one of my key influences and biggest inspirations, my hero in fact (which is a term I never thought I’d use). The time has now come where I am sitting down and dedicating time to write in honour of Patti Smith, this fasincation and why I feel she is still so deeply relevant to our times.
Watching the footage of her perform at Glastonbury this year is uplifting and fills me with joy and renewed optimism about the mighty force within us. At nearly 70 she still has the gusto and passion that she did as a young woman in the 70s. Her spirit is strong and that goes beyond age.
In these strange, confused dark ages we are living through, it is absolutely vital for all of us, right now to keep the fire within us alive.
Patti is someone who does that. A rebel so dedicated to her work, we can all learn something from her. At Glastonbury she was offering the torch on to generations that follow hers singing People have the Power, with optimism and conviction. I am a student of Patti Smith. She is worth learning from.
So here is the story of my relationship to this mighty Artist, sometimes referred to as ‘The Grandmother of Punk’ which is endearing, maybe a little bit patronising but still take it with a pinch of salt. I’m not writing a biography, this is purely personal, you can look that stuff up easy enough.
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While at Art School someone not relevant to my development once reeled your name off non chalantly in a list of influential people, I can’t remember what his point was, nor who the other people were, he had a sense of apathy and arrogance in his delivery, that is my vague memory.
It was not the time to be introduced to you then. No grace nor charm about that moment. It did not have the unanticipated sense of joy of that day later on down the line. That would have deep resonance, out of the blue, an unexpected gift, delightful and true.
The foundation laid, prepared, I was an open book, welcoming new inspirations, my student days over, a year since leaving art school, those days now passed, now gone. Life as a poor ‘artist', now working mundane day jobs, the reality of life after the university bubble now becoming real in all of its utter mundaneness.
The time came, it was 2006. I was 23. Soft amber light outside, my favourite kind. The sound of the old familiar sea gulls. Working in an independent bookshop, back in my hometown on the seafront, having recently got back from travelling across the USA that summer, living back with my folks.
We come to our heroes when we are ready for them. We discover music in our own sweet time, in an organic unfolding. Sounds so utterly new and delightful to our young fresh ears. Like the first time I heard the Velvet Underground’s ‘Andy Warhol’ in the early hours one morning at 16, but that’s another story.
The time you would be introduced to me, I was ready, the timing ideal.

I was in a music shop, MVC, on a coffee break from the bookshop. I perused the collection casually, aimlessly, mildly curious, when I came across the CD Horses. Unexpected discovery. There you were looking back out at me just casually leaning, with presence.

I stoppped in my tracks. Drawn to the cover I was captivated in an instant. At a time where I was back in a place I had left 4 years earlier, surrounded by books during a quiet month more often than not bored out of my skull, that work break enhanced it all and changed my world.
I was curious and intrigued by you. Brain rewiring, the neuro networks in electric blue having new and captivating conversations, lighting up, moving in all directions, forming new patterns. New orbits forming around my being encircling me with new possibility. Invisible threads reaching out and beyond.
I saw the black and white photograph and loved everything about it; the composition, its simplicity and grace, your sense of self assurance, poise and ultimately your ambiguity and androgyny that topped it all.
I bought it knowing nothing of the music but eager to discover it. An innocent.
Perhaps, I reflect now, almost 10 years later, I fell a little in love that day, like you did when you saw Rimbauds photo as a young man.
Next thing, discovering the music, what it contained, GLORIA and Relondo Beach I Iistened to over and over while cycling to and from work along the promenade beach, reigniting something wild and free within me, that you represented. Oh and Break it up, like nothing, nothing I had ever heard before. You reminded me to see the world with the artists lens. Something I sometimes lose but always comes back again.
The way you dressed. I looked you up, captivated. Enigma. COOL AS FUCK.

Again a rite of passage, like a teenage girl. I wore my white shirt and tie to work, black scruffy blazer with all its tears and holes, dark trousers cut just below the knee. I also often wore a trilby hat as I liked the way it felt. Little did I know then, that you worked in bookshops too. Know for a fact I looked far from cool but I enjoyed expressing myself in this way, inspired, not wearing feminine dress, (not that I had much in the past) but reminded of how I loved how it felt to know I can express myself in whatever way I choose. So so good. It was a time of great curiosity and questioning in more ways than one.
You went on the back burner from time to time, burning quietly but never forgotten. Simmering at times that I needed reminding, that people like you exist. Your name came up over those years, but you were never mainstream famous famous, not like Bob or Bowie, not mentioned as much. Way cooler in your oddness to not be a household name like that.

In recent years you’ve been at the forefront more, my key influence coming to the shore. That’s the thing with heroes, they come back and visit you, pop up in your consciousness like guides when you could do with reminding of the things that matter to you.
At any time, sometimes an unexpected knock knock, they wake you up.
All my friends know it, how strongly I feel, I’ve certainly mentioned you enough.
I’ve introduced you to women who are around the same age as when I discovered you, knowing it is my duty. I played Relondo beach to a Jordanian girl while walking the Camino de Santiago this summer. As I watched her, I could see the delight in her eyes as we walked side by side across Northern Spain. What a joy it was to open the doors for her and invite her to walk through.
I've read Just Kids 3 times so far. The second in New York for 10 days alone. Mostly walking endelssly and sitting in diners and cafes in the rain, simply writing. Underlined, marked with stars, dog eared. Facing out on any new bookshelf I can occupy along with your other works.
I've painted you, it was also partly me, you on the mic, me wailing from the heart singing for my recently deceased friend Zsi Chimera who died in a hot air balloon accident in Egypt for the painting You left in flames.
I have made smaller paintings, prints and drawings too over the years. Given one to my dear friend Arks who loves you almost as much as I do. I’ve also taken self portraits channeling the attitude of Horses as my start point.

'You left in flames’ - ink on paper, Martina Ziewe, 2015

'Patti' print, Martina Ziewe, 2014

Self portait, December 2012
For my birthday last year one of my closest friends, Sarah gave me a card smiling sweetly, she wrote inside that I was going to see you with the Soundwalk Collective, when I read those words my heart burned with that familiar fire I have now grown so accustomed to, it went directly to the source of all power and vibrancy. The best present anyone could ever have given me. For Real.
A year ago around about now, my dear friends Arks, Sarah and I went to the Union Chapel in Islington. I was excited all day, I felt nervous as if before an exam.

‘I am alive, this is it’ - print collage with inks, 2014, Martina Ziewe
I looked around the audience of the ambient church, soft lighting, pews slowly filling up as I sat alone for at least an hour while my friends went to the bar way cooler than me. I was not going to lose those seats. Observing the audiences demographic, a mix between people in their 30s, not girly girls, interesting clothes, ones who look like musicians, artists, and poets of course, and people in their 70s, and all inbetween. One woman of about 50 obviously inspired by your way of dress, big scruffy boots and a wild mane of hair. I felt fondness for them all, knowing we had you in common which meant I’d probably get on with them.
Four pews back, to the left of the aisle. Close and ready. So ready.
Eventually you entered. You did not speak to the audience at the beginning. You went straight in, did your thing. You were reciting poems for your friend Nico. The music of The Soundwalk Collective was mezmerising, dreamlike, meditative and surreal all at once. You spoke steady and contained, strong and commanding. And oh that voice.
The lighting lit you up real intense, enhanced your wild white hair, witch like - the only way you would go, never hiding what you are and how you age. Just real. And the way the light hit your hair allowed it to glow and reach up to the celestials as you do with your presence. There was a perfect madness in your eyes. You held your hands up in a bold outward command as if channeling from beyond. Your aura electric and white. You had twitchy mannerisms and sometimes seemed to suddenly remember where you were, coming back to and I felt you become physically more embodied again, to then transcend up in unexpected moments, then fall somewhere in between two worlds then land.
The audience one energy field. You ever present and true holding the room in the palm of your hand. I remembered your words in Just Kids - how you feed off the audience as much as we do from you, put more eloquently than that. When you looked out, whoever you were looking at as far as I was concerned you were singing for me.
For I am the audience and you are the artist, I am the artist inspired by you. Without me who are you performing for? It is the perfect union. A communion of energy and oh how I embraced it. I feel the fire in my heart ignite. Feel the fire. Feel it burn. Burn. Back to you, back to me, to all in the room and beyond.
You give to me directly, so generously. You are in a trance like Morrison, your hero. In turn I am transfixed by you. The way you described watching your heroes you are now giving to me. It passes on. It passes on.
You are so whole heartedly yourself.
It took a few long moments to take your photo subtly, I was aware that any movement I were to make in the room could be seen, everyone so still and present, I was respectful and discreet, so magnified was it all. I eventually got one, grateful and humbled.

Patti Smith and the Soundwalk Collective, Union Chapel, October 2014
One part I remember the most is when you spoke the words ‘in the rain, in the rain’ you repeated, repeated, I was cast under your spell. Oh and the sound of those singing bowls. The visuals on the screen above you. It was that perfect mix, poetry, performance, story telling, art, light, music and visuals. You owned it, the stage, so authentic and true as you always do. So attentive to each moment.
Thank you Patti. I would like to take what you gave me that night and give generously to others in work of my own.
The night was powerful, you stood at the lectern giving the sermon of Patti Smith. I listened attentively and sincerely, I learned.
I’ve learned from your approach to work. Like when Jimi Hendrix or Janis Joplin died you went straight into your process of the experience and wrote a poem, a song or drew something out. You act with such immediacy, with drive and passion to what happens around you. I vow to do that more, to respond to life and honour it with razor sharp awarenss and use the passion I have for being alive to make work, while the fire is burning bright and share it.

Self portrait, November 2015
I relate to how you relate to objects, the way you and Robert displayed your belongings in the spaces you occupied and valued the little you had. I arrange my postcards, books, little bits of jewellery and art works in much the same way, paying close attention, looking at my surroundings with tenderness.
I’ve sat on a pew listening to you feeling the exchange of energy. It has touched and indeed changed me.
I too, have something to give and share with people I come into contact with so deeply. I saw in you what you saw in your heroes. It goes on and on through the generations, all those you touch.
You are so perfectly alive, creative, hard working, passionate and full of fire.
I know that if I met you and we had a conversation, you would be generous and encouraging of my work.
I would like to see you live once more. Not sure if that was the only time in this life. I’m happy I got to experience it either way, we’ll see.

Self portrait 2014, Martina Ziewe
I vow to myself to have the presence, authenticity and passion of my own being and self possessing spirit. My driving force, my fire. Being totally and utterly myself. Free.

Patti and the Dalai Lama at Glastonbury 2015
I am closer to a place where I can see myself sharing more. I trust life will present the right circumstances when it is the time to do so. In performance, art or whatever way is best.
I’ve certainly laid the ground work and that has not been easy.
My introspective hours in dark small spaces and mighty open light ones, alone and working hard, sometimes in wired manic states, ready to be turned outward for all good reasons.
Inward to outward, exposed and revealing light. That light which connects us all.
I am ready. I am READY.

Self portrait with biography, November 2015