The art of creation and self-expression

What is the point of creating something that no one will ever see?

It is the creation itself that holds value as an extension of yourself.

But how can that be since your identity is formed by how people perceive you?

The creation is part of your make-up and since people perceive you hence they interpret your creation...

But if your creation is based upon an visual aesthetic then how can that be so?

It is not the creation itself that holds value since it is finite but the continuing dialogue that you keep between your creation and yourself that pushes forth the development of the soul..

But how can a creation be an expression of the soul if it is to be replaced by another?

A creation can be juxtaposed by the next, it is an expression of feeling fixed in time and space clarified at one moment to include all you hold dear to yourself.

Is one creation invalidated by the next?

In some cases yes in some cases no...But there is always for one reason for this, always a bigger picture..

And what is that reason? what is the bigger picture?

So i can eat pie....

I made you a promise..I don't break promises

"Johnson we're trapped in the belly of the beast!"

"Keep your head man! remember your training! eyes forward, raise armingdecibels 357 degrees, engage de-thrax rotors, prime missle launch..Look the enemy straight in the face and embrace death gladly as you embraced life without fear!!!

the skies darkened, drums pounded in the distance as the enemy drew in around the machine, trapped they were in the centre as the machine bled to death..All across the walls we're littered the defiant messages of the once proud nation, long gone now and now only two remained..

Watch out oscar, here i come..im thinking of calling the film Johnson in the land of the dancing green goblins and pink elephants and the quest for the lost biro?

so ..whoops, (just had to turn bold off), anyway so what has been going on in my life at the moment, do you want me to talk about myself, well i won't..Here's a broad chronology..

Last weekend = Plane-Edinburgh-Pepper-Pepper's house-Bed...........-Awake-Eat Greggs-Town centre-Castle-i play hide and seek-Pepper's house-Dougal Dutch arives-Dinner-movie-booze-stoned-bed...........Awake, Eat Greggs-get crafty-get ready-go..to a party-get wrecked-meet people-go-sit on monument-sit on cows-Leith bingramige-home-sketchy wrekced people-more whisky-failed tea making-bed........horrible hangover, every kind of over...plane-tube-bed


This week Bins-people who smoke too much-More bins-hot weather...some other stuff with mates...

Did have dinner with my fiance last night which was lovely...So its all good you know, good..nothing wrong...you'd think there was but no..nothing..zilch..nowt..oh yeah i did write some lyrics to my new form of music called Geek rap or GRAP (which sounds like crap, an ironic twist since its actually amazing), it sounds like Fill me in by Craig David..

"Why were you creeping round late last night"
"when i left you were surfing brandnew websites"
"now you've finished all your homework, but can you fill me in"

"Calls diverted to answer phone"
"Maths book open half the contents done"
"Biro rest until your number one"
"can you fill me in"

Grap in its purest form people, word!...Now im hot and sweaty and feel a bit tired, i might go for a little nap, i hope all my blog people out there are satisfied now..i havent had any complaints but if you felt like making one im always here..i mean you dont have to..i don't want one and i dont have to answer to you..but if you wanna show me your out there, ill be here..all day..and tommorow...and the day after that...and that...ok...

Bye guys...

xxxx

FALLING ON MY OWN SWORD

This time last week i moaned extensively about people not updating their blogs and now ive done exactly the same thing!, its a nightmarish thing defeating oneself..

I don't have to much to say at the moment although alot is gonig on, probably cos i got sunstroke working the bins today..i reckon thats probably it..On Thursday im gonna sit down, whip out my quill and spin a good old yarn..

I owe you that blog people..I konw i do, its been too long, A WEEK!, but like lost lovers riding a tidal wave of deep desire for their far away partner we will be re-united..

In the end, the blophet will return..ill be back... and I love you all..

How you bin?

Why does everyone think that bin men make lots of money, they don't!

They toil in the sun and smoke the occasional fag.

Right now thats cleared up its time to moan and review..

MOAN:

I don't like this trend of people not updating theit blogs, it makes me angry, update them people otherwise all ill have is a load of garden waste to keep me occupied all day. If people don't start getting on the case soon, im gonna get a stick, a real big one and then im gonna get some leaves, and then im gonna get some mud and then im gonna get some horse manure. And then im gonna have you all round for dinner and make you vegetarian food followed by a poo pie.

REVIEW:

Spent the weekend in Cheltenham with Jess and two of her life long friends Elle and Jo, we also arranged to meet up with the shouty wolf and a little chick (both people), felt a little disappointed that the little chick could only meet us for 20 minutes on the megabus stop on Sunday by beards due to chronic hangover. Meanwhile Elle and Jo proved far more reliable and much pizza and booze was consumed on Saturday with them, we didnt even tip the waitress who was a stupid silly bint and that made me happy.

The weekend turned me against megabus forever, no air conditioning cramped soaring temperatures, an extremely large heavy chested American struggling behind us and a skinny arrogant sunglasses laden girl whose rudeness was only matched by my desire to see bad things happen to her-silly cow refused to give pup her seat to a woman who needed it, i cant stand intransigence of this magnitude..

So after 6 hours of this one was not amused, especially as i only got to bed 5 hours before i head to face the bins!, but as always chin up, never a rainy day, especially at the moment!

xx

A week in the life...Of Turtle

ITS BORING!!

And i don't like it..No thats not true (im lying again), im such a compulsive little fibber, a lieomaniac. Not im not, ive just read that back and it looks really bad. What! No! Fuck off brain! Quit playing games with my fragile emotions..What? Fragile they are NOT! They're as strong as an Ox or Asterix the Gaul (after he's taken his magic potion)

So i started work as a bin man today running around road after road, loading green bags of composte into a big fuck off bin, pressing a button so that the bin tips into the lorry, then it comes back down again (all at the command of a button), waving morning to old men with shorts pulled far too tightly up to their shrivelled groins whilst mowing their lawns or old biddies (love that word) walking dogs that look as bad as they do..

Fun work though, home by 12 and I get paid a whole days work so it'll be good when i finally start seeing some green.

Saw Sigur Ros the other night with my fiance who purchased us some tickets as a 21st birthday gift (bless her)..Sonic glacial soundscaping...Ambient textured tones...Angelic alien registered vocals...Atmospheric and monumental..another superlative...So good...So blown away..I might just do what any man would do under the circumstances..Horrah!

Here was their set (yes im an obsessive, go out and get a hobby of your own if you don't like it, mines hero-worship and it suits my celebrity guzzling self just fine)

Takk...Glosoli
Ny Batteri
Saeglopur
Gong
andvari
Hoppipolla
Med Blodnasir
se lest
olsen olsen
vidrar vel til loftarasa
Svo Hljótt
heysatan
Poplogid

xxx

Turtle's graduation, Traduation.

With my head in pieces after the consumption of a vast amount of booze, noodles and fags after last nights London world cup binge-o-rama i stared at the tickets for my graduation and realised that i had an hour and a half till my ceremony began and that i made a drastic mistake and got the times wrong. An hour and a half to complete a two and a half hour drive to Cardiff.

Disaster! Oh shame, to hath worketh for so long..And now it seemed i would not get to attend the dull ceremony half of which i won't understand with seats as wide as a peanut...

Sensing destiny, or more likely fear of spending another day in Southampton we went anyway, secured a gown and hat and charged frantically to St Davids hall...Id missed my name being called by all of 10 minutes, but no worry, they told me that i could still make it! Owain Glyndor would be proud of me! I would be moved to graduate in the next ceremony.

And so it was that Matthew Turtle graduated with a bunch of journalim students (How ironic) watched by a couple of my friends who did sociology rather then by any of my history buddies..I was always a maverick, you know, always late in returning my books and getting whopping 50p fines strutting around the library like a peacock, copying other people's notes in lectures..You know, a rebel, the kind of person who refuses to use postit notes and uses regular folders instead of ring binders..Rebel..A man of Harlech.

So by the time we got to the history reception the whole place was completely deserted, so we helped ourselves to some styrophome cups, left over wine and sparkling water..Then in true tradtion mum and dad took me out for a meal..Mum remembered this upstairs Chinese restaurant that she used to eat at in 1977 (29 years ago) and tried to direct us there..Me and dad exchanged uncertain glances but true to form (Having been a rock all day) she got us there and true enough on the door of the Riverside Cantonese was the opening year '1977', The shock was palpable..

So all in all..I ended up doing the graduation my way and making the best of bad circumstances..Fuck doing it structured, id fully recommend the uncertain method, you get alot of sympathy, a free gown, lose some weight in stress and generally have a laugh about it..

xxx

Its ok for artists to talk to trees

Watched an art instruction programme recently...

The scene is a portly man painting a landscape, bit of drybrushing, highlights here and there and some impressionist waffle.

The man has quite a camp voice which is re-assuring. Obviously we don't want the Hulk teaching us how to paint..

"You know" he says pensively...

"Just go out and make friends with a tree, people are gonna think thats a little weird..."

"Your neighbour might think that..Oh there goes that guy again talking to trees, he's weird"

"But thats ok because your an artist, your allowed to be a little bit weird"

So logically then, artists who talk to trees, are not weird as they are acting on a pre-condition of their proffession making abnormal behaviour seemingly ok..

Buddha...You have some explaining to do!!!

xxx (Haven't put kisses in the last couple posts so here's a couple more to make up.. xx..o HUG! wow, i must be feeling generous...i am)

Football fever and 40 years of hurt

Meat pie sausage roll c'mon England give us a goal, meat pie sausage roll c'mon England give us a GOAL...

Oh no... We've got a corner...ooh..Another corner.

Trouble starts at the Portugese end, policeman come to aprehend... Ohh another corner..

NO BLOODY GOALS!!

Portugal are turning into the new Italy and England are as one-dimensional then ever..Is it a surprise that all of a sudden Owen Hargreaves is our best player! No! its because he actually has the bottle to play abroad. You know, in a different division completely where you learn a different style and approach to the game..a different culture!! its the English achilles heal..All the players groomed to play in one style only, defensive, organised and direct.. No flair or pace...

Anyway..grumble grumble..same old shit, at the end of the day, the press and alot of people don't know anything about football, this team...that was meant to be our finest generation..is evidently no where near as good as everyone thought..Maybe for their clubs, individually, playing with other foreign rounded players but not when they get together..England still have a long long way to go..