Only the unloved hate...

One of the most inspirational speeches of all time. For me...



One hope, one love.

Synchronicity.

So, here's a paragraph from my new book, 'Synchronicity.', I love film noir, but I'm not sure if I can keep going with the hard-boiled style. It's nice to play around with though, plus I like the dark edge it gives everything, making the softer touches all the more impactive when they appear:



A Baltic wind blows against the sash windows, rattling the single-glazed panes like bones on a medicine man’s staff… The angle-poise lamp illuminates his hands, one frozen above his laptop keyboard, the other hovering above an ashtray, cigarette ash growing long from the untapped fag between his fingers. The tobacco burns luminous orange. His hair is splayed out like a hit and run victim, awkwardly mangled, like his square glasses slammed into his face, throwing it across his head. Slowly, he lifts his cigarette, taps it and brings it to his lips, inhaling and leaning back, forcing his other hand through his ragged hair. He stubs the cigarette, hits enter on the keyboard, picks up a lukewarm mug and downs the contents. Pushing his hard palms into the desk, he rolls out from underneath it on the cheap Ikea office chair and claps the laptop lid shut. It’s done...

Lister

Went with my boy RJ to Skyline Productions last night to check the last edits of their video of Anthony Lister's latest show, Bogan Paradise, in Sydney. This is the end result.



Pretty sick.

Music by award-winning Australian rappers, Bliss N Eso

People Are Awesome

Word to my dad for linking me to this one; people are fucking awesome.



Fact.

Get On Up!

Boom! Big ups to my boy Fakso for switching me onto these guys - 1Up Crew from Berlin KILLING it!



Check out Fakso's reportage work and book, Fast Or Die, online HERE or his blog HERE

Happy Birthday

Wow.. So it's been a minute or two since I posted anything here, this last month's been hec.tic. Moved to Australia about a week ago and been hustling since I touched down.

I didn't have internet access yesterday, so had to send this to my little sister Ellie via text, but wanted to write this out properly. It's a poem I wrote for her Birthday, kind of half advisory, half lyrical rubbish off the top of my head.


Dream Weaver


Sunrises,

Sunsets,

Live Life,

No regrets,

Upsets, fade...

Stampede, like Bulls, on parade.

Today's hustle; tomorrow's trouble,

Full Cycle,

Life's bubble,

Bursts like foam in a coffee mug,

Juggle cocktails and dreams,

For Rockstars and Queens,

Ordinary people;

Extraordinary means.

Pick your own teams,

Fight your own wars,

Stand tall, on your own floors,

The best laid plans may still hold flaws...

Heart open,

Like a held door,

Pour love into every chore,

Put soul into every pore,

Of all you do,

You can do no more.

Spin your own web,

Catch your own flies,

Spider lives; Insect dies...

Pretty web,

Child's eyes,

Experience all, with naive surprise,

Ask questions, but tell no lies,

To those who hold fast to ship's sighs,

Good Men,

Washed up on cheap thighs,

Stripping Mankind's vain prize,

Mens minds capsize,

When boats float on flipped skies...

Punch your ticket, take a ride,

True Romance, never hides,

Manifests itself in face-lines...

Take time to discover why,

Caged birds,

Look so nice,

But repeat,

The calls,

Of the unwise.

A lesson learned,

Is one that's taught twice...

So do the maths and count your blessings,

Share love's wealth,

And life's lessons.

xxx

Meat and Styles

My good friends Mattie and Probs put on this event the other week, it was a little later than planned due to the riots, but still went with a BANG! Writers from all over the globe were down painting, including Zadok, Tizer, Astek, Inkfetish, Cept and more.

Official Meeting of Styles London 2011 from End of the line on Vimeo.

The 4th UK Meeting Of Styles featured a soundtrack from Rolls Royce, Mylon, Buggsy, Phi Life Cypher, Trol23 and beatbox king, Reeps1, amongst others, and even featured a little freestyle session from Si Philly in the yard.



Meaty goodness was provided by BBQ-masters, The Meat Wagon, with the tastiest burgers I've had for a long time.



Pictures courtesy Meeting Of Styles UK

I'm Not Sick, Motherf*ckers I'm Ill!

So, it's the launch of VNA cover artist and personal favourite, Sickboy's new show tonight. As always the Sickboy will be going all out with his latest showcase of some of the most unique and progressive artwork currently out there.

Sickboy - Heaven & Earth from Mark Warrington on Vimeo.

Refusing to be defined by either graffiti or fine art worlds, Sickboy's spray-can skills blend subtly with the brush as he steps it up yet again to wow the art world with his stunning style.



Steering clear of the control of art galleries and demands of corporate sponsors, the show also features a special collaboration with Xenz, D*Face, Anthony Lister, Eine, Paul Insect, Vhils,Conor Harrington, Word to Mother, Will Barras, Hush, Eelus and Mudwig.



The show, Heaven & Earth, runs from November 4-6, 2011 at Dray Walk, 91 Brick Lane, London, E1 6QL, with previews tonight, 3rd November, guestlist only.



Video filmed & edited by Mark Warrington, also featuring the photography of Viktor Vauthier.

Love & War

I'm clearly getting soft. As Winter closes in around us, I can't help thinking about curling up on a sofa in front of a fire with someone amazing and spending those long winter nights all cosy and snug. It makes me write appalling, nauseating junk like this...

The room's labyrinth ballroom spins round us,

I bury my face in your coiffured crown,

sweet smells warm and delicious abound,

the corners of my vision darken down,

like old photographs and things seem less important,

more distant,

apart and I miss you,

though you're not really mine to go missing,

looking ahead, part vision, part wishing,

you're across from me sipping,

wine as you look back into my eyes under kohl covered lashes,

flash forward to more but we're older,

something's different here,

but not colder,

settled, content and love's bolder,

we can say that we're in as we shoulder

the life that we share as all's fair,

in love’s war story, told, as it smoulders...

Stika Rocks

My boy Stika's art show this Thursday.

STIK A ROCK Video from badman VNA smooth operator Make Some Tea on Vimeo.

Ch..Ch..Ch..Check it out!



Hit up Stika's blog here

Pretty Much Amazing...

The Black Keys have always made awesome music videos, like this gem from last year:



But I've just discovered this B-Movie-inspired Mexploitation beauty, ahead of their upcoming hot-to-trot European tour. Love their ability to laugh at themselves, like a rock version of New Zealand's Flight Of The Conchords...

The Nice Up!

Live up, live up, live up!

Original riddim killa, dapper dan-man Rodney P - infamous for his work with Skitz, The Dub Pistols and as a founding member of London Posse - just got signed to good and proper indie label, Tru Thoughts.

A fine time for rhyme, indeed, and one which has precipitated the release of this timely tune, replete in it's topical texture. Enjoy!



And while you're at it, reminisce over this true-school classic...

One Night Standard

I wrap my arms around you, hold you tight,

wish it could be like this forever, one eternal night,

stand, slip my left to your right hand,

squeeze it tight,

as my other holds your neck and I lose my sight,

damn,

my eyes, close involuntary, melt into the smell of your hair and light

perfume lifts my heart on kite,

strings, none tying us in,

life seems stronger pressed up against you,

crown me king

no check mate, we're both here to win,

faces come out of the warm summer rain holding us in, voices ring strange,

against the familiarity,

of your heartbeat,

next to mine.

Once Were Warriors

So, the Rainbow Warrior III was christened and set sail today. A momentous occasion for the world as a whole, and one with particular resonance for me; I was brought up on a healthy diet of home-baked wholemeal bread, chickpea curry and Greenpeace walks. I'm also due to depart for the part of the world - The Antipodes - in which the original Rainbow Warrior was sunk, pretty soon. Concurrently, it happens to be the place where my Step-Uncle lives, who was once to be seen ramming dinghies up the harpooning ramps of whaling ships, back in his more environmentally active youth.

The first ship was scuppered by French politicians who, acting under the influence of fear and environmental loathing, ordered their agents to blow the vessel apart using limpet mines so she couldn't continue her mission to interfere with their lovely nuclear tests in Moruroa, French Polynesia. However, this only served to consolidate support for the actions of Greenpeace, and harden their resolve to build a better one.

The origins of the boat's name come from the Indigenous nations of the North American Indians. It is their prophecy that the white man would ultimately fuck stuff up (so far, not so good) through his greed and that the keepers of the legend, stories, myths and ancient customs, would have to step in to show him the way to truth, love, enlightenment and the healing of the world. These people were called the 'Warriors of the Rainbow'.

This particularly lovely lady, Melina Laboucan-Massimo, is one such warrior, from the Cree First Nation of Northern Alberta, Canada. She is the Godmother of the ship.

Images copyright Greenpeace International

As you'd expect, the Rainbow Warrior runs mainly on sun and wind power, with the option to switch over to some snazzy eco-friendly diesel/electric power when things go tits on the weather front. In true Greenpeace style, there's an open invite to join the crew aboard the ship and become part of history, in what will certainly be a greener future.

Love and respect to everyone that helped to make this happen through their donations.

Peace.

Something Special

I really never used to like House music, even up to a year ago, but tunes like this have so much so soul. They make me dance around my room like a 15 year-old girl to Flashdance...

The Brave And The Stupid

So it took me a while to come up with a name for this, my latest literary misadventure. The first title I thought of is the name of this post, which references the stupidity of Middle America, the Braves of the North American Indians - for whom I have the utmost respect, both for their tradition and their enlightened aspect - and the crest of my Grandfather's club. It also represents some of the best days of my youth, spent falling off BMX's, summed up best in a song used in the first Jackass movie, 'If You're Gonna Be Dumb, You Gotta Be Tough', by Roger Alan Wade.

Having visited my Gramp's old haunt, The Savage Club, yesterday, and met all his old cronies for lunch and a talk by the magician Roy Davenport, I wrote a poem on the train on the way back. It's not supposed to be dour, although my Grandad was often a very foreboding character. More of a celebration that things are happening in my life, for me, right now, and and a remembrance that I will love the old boy forever, despite him being a terrible cheat at board games. It being his Birthday today, I feel it's fitting I should make this my first post on this new blog, in his honour.


The doors close, your carriage slides off,

in the rain,

it's your turn, the dice fall, in my favour,

again,

the sheen on life's tracks,

tastes metallic, in my veins,

the pills bite, but mean I'm bi-winning,

still sane,

come-down or sun-up,

the light shines,

in my brain,

only now, that I'm older,

finding pleasure, in pain,

the ones that we miss, live life on,

through their names,

we remember their faces,

though it's dust, they became.