Category Archives: Scribbles

Every Man is a Island

Every man is an Island.

That Island is core of his soul, where he goes for strength, and where he protects the fragile parts of himself.

When he is attacked or hurt, its like people throwing rocks at his island, it stings, and its annoying, but the Island is untouched and he strike back with all his strength.

His friends have little bridges onto the island, they add to his power and soul. The burning of a bridge hurts, but it can be recovered from, and even repaired.

When he loves, he joins his Island with another, and they become one, this new Island is the most powerful of all, and he will feel unbeatable. Alas there also a risk, if the love fails, is broken or betrayed; the island must be smashed in two. This hurt is the worst of all as the very island its self is being torn and ripped apart, It may not survive. It will never be the same.

This risk is worth it, Islands are better with two. Trust me I know, I love.


A few things I think about art:

Art does have a purpose other than to be its self, it it is to communicate. Art can say what words can not,and thus an artist can tell me something that he feel I should know this may just be a story. The success of a piece of art therefore for me lies in its clearing and potency in communicating to me that message or information. Clarity is particularly important as once an artist releases a work, it’s beyond them. The ‘meaning’ of a piece resides as much, or more, in the observer than in the creator or subject. Thus if it does not portray the message clearly it will be lost.


I will leave you with a couple of my favourite pieces:

An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump

An Experiment on a Bird in an Air Pump

Miranda and The Tempest

Miranda and The Tempest



Love and Age

So I was having a little think to my self and it seems to me all the best opportunitys to love are when you are young you have the time, energy and innocent joy in your soul to do it, and your all young and handsome. The problem is though were dumb we know sod all and nothing about love, we think we know about it but we don’t I could count the smeg ups I made in love just because I was so unexperienced in the world in 100’s

Im not sure what else there is to do about it I mean we need to screw it up to become the people we are, but at the same time it seems a shame to mess up those years.

Anyway dont trust the love songs, poems etc of anyone under about 35, they don’t know what they are talking about, including me 😛



There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His Father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the back of the fence.

The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down.

He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Finally the day came when the boy didn’t lose his temper at all. He told his father about it; and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.

The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone.

The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said, “You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won’t matter how many times you say I’m sorry, the wound is still there.”


I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I’ll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone’s laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I’m still the only one who really, really gets it.

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