posted on May 31, 2012 at 2:25 am

stay man

gray light

i swim in an almost empty blue pool at eriksdalsbadet

i sit in a sauna sweating thinking alone

small birds on the horizon like black sesame seeds

stockholm doesnt seem so friendly on days like this

a cold nearly summer day

the usual drunks and now occasional beggars

rattling their fucking cups at me

i have an argument inside myself

i mean they wouldnt beg if they didnt really need it

but the way they shake their cups of change is kinda rude

like…pay up pay up…!!

its cold out there

i buy a strong coffee and share it with minna

we have hardbread with avocado and tartex paste for lunchy

marty n t come over n we practice for a while

i wonder if we’ll be glad we decided to do this gig….?

i’m a bit rusty ha ha you might say

havent been playing that much guitar-o this year

my old little fingers not so supple as they were

anyway should be ok i guess

(it always vaguely is)

time is running out here in sweden for me

sunday i go back ‘ome

i do like it here

some people dont but i really do….

see ya guys

sk

 

37 Responses to “new world old world”

  1. avatar
    Thomas Thomsen | 31 May 2012 at 3:26 am #

    Enjoy your last few days in Sweden, Steve. I’m happy for you and Minna that everything turned out fine.

  2. avatar
    davem | 31 May 2012 at 6:18 am #

    Can’t see a return flight for less than £700.
    Fuck fuckity fuck

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 31 May 2012 at 7:51 am #

      not worth it davo
      for that we’d come round n play at your place
      i’d cook dinner n marty’d do the vacuuming…

      • avatar
        Michel | 31 May 2012 at 8:45 am #

        I do agree with Dave, it’s such a pity that flying to Sweden seems so complicated…
        Especially when you must work on saturday morning !
        I knew deep inside you would not leave without playing with Marty.
        YES it is an important gig. And you will never be “rusty”.
        It may be our last chance to see you play together in the old world.
        And it’s too complicated to attend it unfortunately.
        Lucky swedish people, come by thousands to this gig and tell us !
        As you said in Runic Drive, you will perform miracles on friday.
        Say hi to Tiare and Marty,
        All the best for Minna.
        Thanks again for the new tracks/masterpieces, they will ease the deception of not coming to the Landet gig. They are so great…

      • avatar
        colette | 31 May 2012 at 11:11 am #

        You can’t say what ‘nice’ ‘pacifically entails’? I think it’s hilarious that you use the word ‘nice’. However, only you could make it sound nicer than it actually is (?)

  3. avatar
    colette | 31 May 2012 at 6:32 am #

    Dear Sk, please tell us more about why you like it there if you don’t mind? From a half clever/half stupid fan wondering whether to be insulted or complimented or both, and trying not to rattle my cup. I know what you mean, beggars probably shouldn’t be choosers. Then the squeaky cup gets the oil (tartex?), you know what I mean I guess because you’re stupid and clever like me, aren’t you? Well that’s what you told me. So it must be right. Love, C. p.s. I wonder if there is much temperature difference between Stockholm in summer and Sydney in winter? If I were clever I’d google but I’d like to get a human perspective if possible. Thank you.

  4. avatar
    mark | 31 May 2012 at 7:18 am #

    art speaks in tongues…..a sonic fuckin masterpiece!!

  5. avatar
    bernadette keys | 31 May 2012 at 8:51 am #

    Sweden is great. I love the people- kinda whacky and open-minded.
    The film’s nearly complete- your score works beautifully. I’ve put in some self-help tapes for Bobby’s stage fright playing in the background.
    ; )

    keysie

  6. avatar
    Chris | 31 May 2012 at 11:20 am #

    stay man pistol pet tall robert plant…love the word play.

  7. avatar
    Ingrid | 31 May 2012 at 11:28 am #

    I imagine Sweden would be an enchanting country. When I travelled to England and through part of Europe I met a girl (who was from Melbourne) who was living there. It is a country that has always intriged me however as yet haven’t had the opportunity to go there.

    Enjoy the time there with your daughters.
    xxx
    PS – Good title to a delightful blog, you make it possible to imagine being there with this one

  8. avatar
    BROKEN TOYS AND HEROS | 31 May 2012 at 11:44 am #

    I think it says a world about friendships and love that Marty and T were there to raise Minna’s spirits up high during her road to recovery. I have an incredible friendship with someone that I only see once every couple years (miss ya Rick ) but with communication technology , we never have lost touch….its been 35 years and counting and within minutes we are right back to our insane teenage years.
    How is Minna’s recovery going ??? What’s the short and long timetable for her ??? How is she coping with the pain and pain meds ???
    I hope you enjoy each minute you have left with the girls before you depart.

    Enjoy the last couple days…this travel of yours was very productive….great job
    ‘dad’ ….

    Daz

  9. avatar
    benjammin | 31 May 2012 at 11:49 am #

    think you’ll record the show?

  10. avatar
    Ingrid | 31 May 2012 at 12:36 pm #

    I just saw that you and Marty are playing in Stockholm tomorrow night.

    Enjoy your gig!!!

    xxx

  11. avatar
    Steve | 31 May 2012 at 2:27 pm #

    Hi Steve. This is Steve. See you in Day-twah, MI…someday? Church and KK dubble bill. Can’t wait 😉

  12. avatar
    Anonymous | 31 May 2012 at 2:49 pm #

    i lost my tram ticket
    can you help me
    please?
    white patches on his hands
    his tourist hat shields wizened hair
    not the mark of a cliché but a bourgeois descent
    i saw him line me up from afar
    he saw the old snapshots of sleeze behind my eyes
    he felt my hesitant steps
    he knows I breathe gutter
    i know he is lying, he knows I know
    but the gravel feast goes on
    i give, he takes
    another lurches
    suitcase in one hand, the veneer now a rift
    he excretes his loss from the plastic bag in his other
    a second-hand mannequin in tattered, unironed threads
    so real, so dirty, dented
    but the game is the same, spaying wildebeest in flight
    he needs, he asks, he lives or he dies
    i give
    a black man crouches
    his face is a cause to erase as it saves
    without a word or glance i know something
    but i know i know nothing, let it go, let it go
    i see you because you are different
    i can’t see you because you are not the same
    i give, you take, you are me, I am you
    it is all the same

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 31 May 2012 at 9:50 pm #

      breathtaking poetry in motion
      speechless. marvellous stuff!

    • avatar
      colette | 1 June 2012 at 12:13 pm #

      not the same as before or not the same as you? oh yes anyway, as you say…

  13. avatar
    Anonymous | 31 May 2012 at 3:56 pm #

    cotton flowers!

  14. avatar
    eekie | 31 May 2012 at 6:28 pm #

    I’ve had similar arguments with myself…
    Am I helping or hurting? Does what I can give help the person make it through one more day or is it making the misery worse?
    A couple of years ago during a particularly cold winter here, a homeless guy froze to death behind a store only about six or seven blocks from my house. Such a sad and desolate death.
    A few days later a woman approached me in a grocery store parking lot and asked for money. She looked cold and said she was trying to get to a shelter downtown for the night. I’d seen her around several times before…given her money a few times. It was the end of the month — I’m always broke then, so I only had a dollar and some change. I asked if she would like some of the yogurt I had just bought…I’ve never seen anyone eat a container of yogurt so quickly. I gave her a couple more and a few other things that wouldn’t require cooking. She was so grateful…it couldn’t have been more than a few dollars worth of food. I kinda wonder what my reaction would have been toward her that night if I hadn’t heard about the man freezing to death….

    • avatar
      thetimebeing | 31 May 2012 at 7:51 pm #

      then his death was not in vain holly…..!

      • avatar
        bigbopper | 1 June 2012 at 12:35 am #

        Not too sound too fatalistic, but in the end, really, aren’t all our deaths in vain?

  15. avatar
    Chris | 31 May 2012 at 11:26 pm #

    We are made from stardust…we are the universe come to consciousness…we are made from pure love and spirit.

  16. avatar
    Chris | 31 May 2012 at 11:33 pm #

    We are made from stardust…we are the universe come to consciousness…we are made from pure love and spirit….misshapen and weathered sometimes…but the essence is there…

  17. avatar
    Chris | 31 May 2012 at 11:41 pm #

    The beggar slides and shifts
    before my gaze and passing gait
    I look down at the clawed and dirty hand
    the rugged ragged clothes
    the fetid hat
    the watery lifeless eyes
    something makes me pause
    I stop and gaze
    and focus on the eyes
    the face
    the ineffable grabs my guts
    and twists my spirit
    I look hard and see
    my own face
    looking back at me
    we are beggars all

  18. avatar
    Chris | 31 May 2012 at 11:52 pm #

    Took a funeral today for a 74 year old beautiful woman who died from a terrible disease that slowly killed her nervous system. She died last Sunday with a beatific look on her face. I swear I saw the face of God in the crowd today…I know I did…I feel so high I must have….

  19. avatar
    Chris | 31 May 2012 at 11:53 pm #

    It’s all OK everybody…everything’s gonna be all OK….everything…every little thing…

  20. avatar
    DavidP | 1 June 2012 at 12:46 am #

    Interesting sk.
    Last night as I walked up the road a woman called out to me in the dark
    from across the road and made out like she urgently needed help.

    I’m listening to her story and a few seconds in I’m realising I’ve got to
    decide whether she is genuine or not. Ok so a few details sounded like they
    could be dodgy, but am I just being cynical? I’ve got an opportunity here to help someone who needs it, maybe…

    I’ll listen some more then, what’s the rush? So we are walking up to the shops where she says her mum and kid will be. We get to outside the 7Eleven and they aint there. Ok, so she hasn’t actually directly asked me for money but obviously that is what she wants.

    Alright, time to get down to business, I start asking her questions to probe her story. I directly tell her I’m not sure whether to believe her or not. She talks a lot the whole time, she’s obviously desperate. Is that genuine as per her story or is that junk sickness coming on? Mmmmm, her eyes do look a bit glazed don’t they. Ah, she’s changed her story now, at the start she had $20 and needed $90 but now she says she’s only got $1.50. Ah, now I remember, right at the start she said her mum and kid where in a different place, not waiting outside this shop where upon us arriving they are not there.

    She talks a lot all the time jumping from one thing to the next filling out her story with details, using some technical terms. Has she just learnt this and is following a script or is this genuine? Is she just hoping that if she keeps spinning the yarn I will soon relent and hand over some cash?

    I’m glad I gave it more time and didn’t allow myself to feel pressured. Over time too many things just didn’t add up with the story. Sorry lady, you need to go back to the police station and ring the refuges from there or something, I can’t help you.

    Apologetic for taking my time she slinked away embarrassed and still desperate. Is that junk sick desperate or genuine story desperate? Junk sick or genuine? Na, too many things didn’t add up and a few things were inconsistent. Surely I made the right decision…didnt I…?

  21. avatar
    Anonymous | 1 June 2012 at 4:13 am #

    my son reminds me… they’re junkies/alcoholics already – but some of them are very nice and don’t want to steal (etc.) so you giving them money even if they spend it on drugs/alch, they’re going to get the money somehow — so you might as well. and a few times “they’ve” helped me/remembered me when they see me on the street, lugging groceries or something… they’re not evil, just desolate – that’s all they got: nothing except a bottle.

  22. avatar
    Chris | 1 June 2012 at 6:51 am #

    My identity is mediated to me through confrontation with another. Otherness and identity emerge dialectically, instead of being fixed in advance of personal encounter. Identity and otherness are mutually dependent and mutually mediating. Identity is constituted by relation; there is no such thing as pure identity, just as there is no such thing as absolute otherness. Openness to truth is an experience of dispossession. We must give up our desire to possess the truth in order to receive it and share it freely with others. There is a dynamism in the negotiation of giving and receiving. The self rebounds back to me when I give freely, and the rebounded self is clearer, sharper, more definite than the self I give away.

  23. avatar
    Chris | 1 June 2012 at 7:19 am #

    People are like estates; we only know what abuts our own.

  24. avatar
    colette | 3 June 2012 at 2:20 pm #

    The grass is always greener. The past often nostalgic. Things also often seem better from a distance and if idealised. Nothing here is ideal. It could be, in our minds and that’s good. A start. Royalty is an anachronism, so is marriage and so are steroetypes. I’m sure there are plenty of descendants of scandinavians all over the world. I watched an interesting film about genealogy which traced us back to the kalahari desert. Ok maybe theories about marriage to do with a commit to protecting kids hold up and the lovely christian ideal about men and women enjoying eachothers’ company. The former makes more sense to me, seems more honest. The latter… probably dreamt up by a man. I think men and women tend to enjoy eachothers’ company more outside marriage. Oh yes, if I force myself to be very introspective and unspontaneous I can see the merits of the very deep (almost hidden) enjoyments of marriage. The man can never really know what his wife experiences or sacrifices, and either can she unless she’s experienced being a bachelorette. I always thought having been a bachelorette, I’d settle down happily and have that out of my system. But come middle age and adulthood in children… ‘I’m just looking for myself… everywhere…’ If I last the distance, maybe i’ll get to heaven and reap the reward of sacrifice. Or maybe God will say, ‘you bloody idiot, couldn’t you work out that life wasn’t suited to you? Go to purgatory.’

  25. avatar
    colette | 3 June 2012 at 2:24 pm #

    Above was meant for ‘Scan d’knavia’. Extraordinary.


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