Soy tan feliz aquí. No quiero salir.
Mum and Dad, and unborn Liam. 1979.
bay area girls rock camp
On Friday evening I took part in a fundraising event for the Bay Area Girls Rock Camp - a charity which encourages girls from ages 8 to 18 to play instruments, form bands, screen print their own tshirts, and everything else that goes hand in hand with being a musician.
More importantly, it helps foster self-confidence and self-belief for young girls. Particularly as females in a musical environment, where it can be only too easy to have those things drained out of us.
I think organisations like this are really important. When I was fourteen and attempting to start bands, I got made fun of and belittled and told I wasn’t good enough, and it has really affected my confidence throughout my whole life. Promoting an environment where young girls are encouraged to play music and be artistic is so valuable, and I really wish places like this had been around when I was growing up.
There are charities like this popping up all over the place now which is amazing, so seek out your local one and give it some support or go out and start your own, whatever your gender. Everyone will benefit from it in the long run.
http://www.bayareagirlsrockcamp.org/
https://www.facebook.com/bayareagirlsrockcamp
“I don’t know how you get involved with uninvolvement, but I don’t want to be involved” - Bob Kaufman
talking tie! finger synths!
Ed Sanders is in The Fugs, and amongst many other things, he wrote a poem in the style of ‘Howl’ documenting in detail the whole of Allen Ginsberg’s life. You are a good egg, Ed Sanders. Egg Sanders.
a necklace of raindrops
William Burroughs is a dream.
Much of William Burroughs’ work is said to be taken from dreams. I was set an assignment to try to influence and record my own dreams for five nights running. This was the result:
1. I went to the theatre to watch a play. I take my friend and he says he’s squeamish; I say “the play isn’t gory.” All the actors are little girls wearing black cloaks, it’s very dark. The main girl tells us how she was murdered and cuts into her stomach with a huge blade. The play turns into real life, I am watching a serial killer kill lots of children and bury them in black bags in his garden. He knows I’m there, he keeps talking to me but I don’t think I am a real person, I think I am his conscience. He kills all of the little girls and cuts an ‘s’ into one of their stomachs. The last person he has to kill is a boy who is another killer? This person is in his house peeling sacks full of vegetables, trying to hide the compost and get out before the killer gets home. They are searching for the killer, he was caught on CCTV buying a Rick Astley CD (with ‘Astley’ spelled wrong). The killer arrives home, I tell the other boy to get out. Killer finds him and offers him a cup of tea or coffee using sign language. His face is both Nick Cave’s and my dad’s. He goes to make tea, and the boy tries to hide so he can kill the killer when he comes back. The killer comes back…
2. I went back home to England to gather my belongings so that I can move them to America. My pet budgie is still alive (she died over ten years ago in real life), but she is now called Appalonia and is named after the band Hole (I hate Courtney Love).
3. I’m in the mountains. We’ve just got out of the car and are staring upwards. It looks like a film. Everything is very vast and beautiful and fresh. It feels like I can breathe. I’ve been here before in a dream. We have a record player.
4. I have the same dream as the night before, with some people I know from London in it. And this time we drive further, to the sea. It feels very calm.
5. This dream continued on from the last two. I remember Redwood trees, forests. I tell my friends they should come here, it’s beautiful. We light candles in a circle. I’m listening to ‘Hammond Song’ by The Roches
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Today my friend Nick drove me across the Golden Gate Bridge to Sausalito, and then back across it to Baker Beach. We sat on the sand and I dipped my toes in the water. It was beautiful, sunshine, 70 degrees (20 celsius). It’s February.
American-English continued…
Cutie - Clementine
Fanny - Bum (our meaning for ‘fanny’ is quite different).
Murphy’s Law - Sod’s law
Biscuit - Scone
Ride - Lift
Call - Ring/Bell
I’ve been telling people about Cockney Rhyming slang, it blows their minds. Americans also don’t understand the phrase “What are you on about?”
Also, this tropical paradise is literally minutes (and a very steep hill) from my house. Nice eh? (‘scuse the crappy phone picture)
American-English
Dish soap = Washing up liquid.
Sidewalk = Pavement
Line = Queue
What’s up? = What are you doing? (not, “Are you okay?”)
Sunscreen = Sun cream
Pants = Trousers
ATM = Cashpoint
Cellphone = Mobile
Flapjack = Pancake
Oat cake = Flapjack (this one seems to cause much confusion)
Oatmeal = Porridge
Bobby pin = Kirbi grip
Panties = Pants/Knickers (I was told not to say the latter too loudly as it sounds like another word which is bad to say in public)
Cookie = Biscuit
Make out = Snog
Also, Americans don’t put kisses on the end of texts, or use texting as a conversational method. Very odd. This took some getting used to, everyone I texted in the first couple of weeks must have thought I wanted to snog them.
