Silverrrrr!!! My 25th year of DJing was quite a ride, thanks to everyone who joined me for the thrills, spills, laughs, kick ons, dancefloors and dance flaws. Much love to all.
More to celebrate this year hopefully!! 🎈
More bipolar depressive crash things (why not?).
This is the worst, the absolute worst for me. And how I know it’s gone too far, is when I lose music. One day it is so so so high in emotion I almost explode and the next day I listen to/look at it and feel nothing. Nothing. Like a chef losing their taste, like anyone losing a sense they rely on. Music is my keeper, the vibration that keeps my soul stumbling along, the piece that’s bigger than the universe. So I know I’m bad when it is there and nothing. Zero. Numb. To the point I listen and don’t even care it exists. It just floats past in the distance.
It’s fucking brutal.
Often at these times it’s actually too overwhelming to even try to listen, like my brain is so tender that the stimulation will burst it. It almost hurts. So I have to take time off. Be in the noise of the world without it. It’s not just sound either, I can read a music history book, an article, and I just don’t care.
Then slowly, maybe a week later, I try at a very soft level. I know now after years of experimenting I have to go back a lot, deep back in time to a song I know and have listened to a million times, it honestly doesn’t matter what genre, could be teenage hardcore, feminist punk, or deep cut folk. But it does have to have a personal emotional pull. And I go from there. The feeling won’t come back straight away, I also know that. But if I plug away at the gently nostalgic, however big the feelings attached to them are (have I cried to Tism? Somehow yes), that doesn’t seem to matter. The music will always bring me back. I’ll yell in a crowd, I’ll cry on walks with my headphones in, I’ll expand into a nightclub until I am dust for a minute.
It comes back. This is mostly a reminder to myself right now.
I’ve hit another patch.
They take a while to creep up, even when you know all of your own symptoms.
The sleep, trying to make a routine when your brain is a spinning plate of jelly throwing indiscriminate blobs out to anywhere to see if they stick. The blurring of self destruction, distraction, and fun. The staring. Entire days just gone? What did I do?
The brain that feels like it is covered in 1000 tiny water dragons who are looking for liquid but the source is gone. Running so fast and cutting away with their little claws but I can’t feel it.
I’ve been through enough rodeos to know I have to sit through, to wait, to incrementally plug away and return to normal things. Getting out of the house to go for a walk took 3 hours today. Tomorrow it might take 2. Hurrah. It will get better, one day soon I will look at a leaf and it will be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen and then I know I’ll be back.
I know that I am blessed, that I have people around me who would block a bullet to see me smile, that I have spaces I can go to recuperate and be watched.
I guess I’m writing this to be honest, and to show people what it’s like sometimes. And just as a shoutout to my hoes with the lows. It’s ok. It will be ok. We’re all amazing creatures, even those of us who are chronically iconic. The jelly is delicious even if it doesn’t hold, and water dragons are cool as fuck.
On my 22nd birthday my partner at the time disappeared for a half a day and came home with a tiny thing wrapped in a towel. I remember thinking “oh dear” and “this isn’t a real dog”. But it was and it took about 3 seconds to fall completely in love with an animal that peed everywhere and couldn’t even keep its eyeballs in the same direction yet.
It’s less than a week out from my 35th birthday and we very suddenly lost that gift. Björk has been my most secure place of comfort for 13 years. The smallest dog who could take up an entire bed, silly looking but willing to take on 4 hour long bush walks, sassy and purely food driven. She knew when you were broken and needed to just be cuddled for whole days. She thought she had been a Queen in a past life, I must have thought so too because she ate better than me most of the time, especially in our early years together. She was a family member, a beautiful sister to @rita_rose_tattoo and @felixom and so often a saving grace for my mum.
She carried me through so much dark, and brought me so much unending joy. I keep looking for her around the house and it’s empty. But I got 13 years, and that was a truly blessed time.
The Fauves were absolutely right. Dogs are the best people. Even funny little menaces who hate listening to their namesake. Thank you Björk, I hope you’re endlessly eating and snuggling wherever you ended up and no one is trying to play you new Björk albums every few years in the hopes you’ll change your mind.
Fuck.
We’ve had less than 24 hours to process the fact that we had to lose @barneykatokato and my partner in snugs and sass this morning. (Missy) Elliot Ragazzi Hodgson as usual your cuddles and time are on your own terms. You perfect weirdo I love you and always will💔
Honourable mention to @griffin_dior for brothering with hypnotism, vomiting and a gruff mutual love
About a year ago I quit my career to pursue what I had always thought was a pipe dream of being actively involved in a creative career centred around writing. Today I published a band review in the form of erotic fiction. Much like me it is ridiculous and at least mildly offensive.
@kingprincess69 thanks for the interview, the show, and approving my silly ideas.
@astrophemagazine@original.sim1 and @saladspoonies thank you for supporting whatever batshit notion I have at any given time. I love you ❤️
Who says you can’t follow your dreams?
My psychiatrist upped my dosage of mood stabilisers last week.
My first reaction was “shit, I had no idea this time.”
My second was “shit, how destroyed will I be for how long while my body readjusts to a new dose for the 7,000th time in 18+ years.”
My third was “I’m going to start a punk band called the Chronics and we only have to play when we have the capacity to.”
I may not be able to start a punk band this month, but this is a reminder that one day I can. And just like me it’s gonna be sick as.
Image is me chilling in my library.
Submissions for print Issue 5 of @astrophemagazine are now open!
Features, interviews, editorials, art, whatever you believe should be in print we’re here to listen and make it happen.
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Astrophe is expanding what we see as the limited representation of inclusivity within the print and digital media landscape.
We value our inclusive approach to accepting submissions from both emerging and established artists, as well as providing opportunity for commissioned editorial work with the Astrophe team. We present our contributors with broad and timeless themes to allow for exploration and expansion of traditional ideas of genre.
Astrophe is a platform of cultivated and curated space for our artists to freely and safely express and celebrate their points of view.
