Who's That? Is It Me?

Stop right there. 

You came here by searching 'courgette' but only found this (for which I apologise), but wait, there's more to you than cooking courgettes, isn't there? Yes, you're also into music, but not just any common music, no, you like John Cage - what a coincidence! Somebody must like him, although I've yet to meet that person. 

Or you came here because you always do, for which I thank you from the depths of my heart, although why I'm thanking you when it should be the other way 'round I don't know. You should thank me for existing, thank my parents, their parents and the apes they came from so long ago. Talking of missing links, they can be found loping along Camden High Street most days, I swear. Not that I feel superior, being ugly, skinny, slow, frequently stupid and unqualified to do anything, except this, which you don't need qualifications for as you'll have noted when alighting upon certain blogs.

An old friend who's just started reading this blog said I'm 'already a famous, rich, artist' 'in a way', this after I'd joked about how writing to him was delaying me being those things. Bless 'im - he was being positive and suggesting I should appreciate what I've done (creatively) but I don't know that it all amounts to much. 

The other night in the bath this song popped into my head...

...taking me back to school days, and viewed through the wrong-end-of-the-telescope time tunnel I looked not only tiny but, well, alien. Who is that sat behind an old wooden desk dreaming about girls? Me? 'Hey Girl' was big in those days. There was a girl who bothered me. She was in the fourth year and those girls adopted young 'uns, like me. They teased us mercilessly, knowing we were incapable of doing anything but blushing and running away, which I probably did frequently....until I was about 30...

That kid also dreamt of doing great things in Art and writing, so what if he could look forward through the time telescope and see himself sat here now? Would he consider himself 'famous', 'rich', or even an 'artist'? I doubt it. But then, in those days I saw success differently. I thought it meant making loads of money. No-one was telling me any different. No-one was saying 'success based on materialistic capitalist ideals means nothing and only serves to reinforce shallow beliefs held by those who value money and celebrity status as defined by the media above all else' - no, they weren't. Instead, my Art teacher said I'd need to pass a few other exams to get into college, so that was me doomed to dead-end jobs. And my Dad said only dead artists make money.

You didn't come here to listen to me whining about my failures all those years ago. I don't know what you want or expect but if you're new take a look around, you might find something you like. Meanwhile, here's Frank Sinatra telling George Michael to stop whining about being famous...