Saturday, 17 August 2019


On a Scotrail 1990s train. I am with my mother. We are sitting side by side on the set of seats facing the pair of doors at the rear of a carriage. We are facing against the direction of travel. Across the carriage on my left sits Ayy Arr and a girl. He looks quite youthful. From my point of view only he is really visible and his body hides her - he's sitting a little forward in his seat too. They are facing the direction of travel. He is talking incessantly about drawing for VIZ comic. All I keep hearing is, "Viz... Viz... Viz..." and I am really hoping my mother cannot (over)hear as I am a failed cartoonist. This annoying (mostly) monologue continues for some time before, to my further embarrassment, he switches it up and starts mention his time drawing for The Dandy as well-

My mother takes out a match from her handbag and lights it. She quickly shakes it out as the guard approaches. (The guard appears to be, for some reason, the same Ayy Arr.) My mum puts the extinguished match in the small lip of the carriage window, in plain sight. I can vividly remember a close up of the match, noting that it has the withered shape of a burnt match but that the wood is all crisp and new. Of course the smell of the 'strike' lingers in the air and Ayy Arr asks if we can smell something burning. There is some sort of discussion about a train carriage being on fire? We then take another match and light it, holding it against a sort of plated upstand that is in the middle of the floor. It looks like an armoured armrest, consisting of mostly metal plates but with some fabric (and wiring?) visible. Having held the lit match somewhere near the top of this there follows a debate as to whether it has indeed caught fire or not. I am convinced I can see flickers of flame here and there and that we are in trouble. Ayy Arr evidently agrees as he grabs a fire extinguisher - he takes this from some sort of similar floor bracket/upstand - and proceeds to spray the slowly armoured burning upstand with some sort of gassy substance. As he is doing so it looks like the train has stopped and lots of people are getting on while we are worried there's a fire and they should be getting off? I think I am stuck trying to walk against this oncoming crowd-

Some strange old house. Thin timber floors with holes in them. I remember being in a long, dimly lit room with my little brother. There is a stick of incense with a slight bend before the top and we are worried about leaving it overnight to let it burn down. We decide it will be okay to leave it. I leave the room and narrowly miss falling through a hole in the floor to my left-

Monday, 12 August 2019


First of all it was as if I was listening to the new Oasis album. The first two tracks were singles and when I reached the fourth, which was brilliant, and it finished things went all weird. Sort of Oasis as kids like The Red Hand Gang, solving crimes. Can remember thinking about how this would sound on the album. All this dialogue. Sort of an exciting concept album. Anyways, we were chasing two guys through this house. We split into groups. Myself and Liam Gallagher were scouting around inside rooms for one of the guys, and ugly British Asian bloke. We sussed both characters had escaped through a window into an attached neighbour's house. Preparing to follow. Lots of small, inset windows. Red roof tiles and white walls. About to climb out after them-

Wednesday, 7 August 2019


New York (where I have never been). Standing, unsure, at the start of a bridge that arches high over the water. My friend Cee Cee is accompanying me. The central body of the bridge is painted gloss black steel, with ribbed footholds on the surface, and two adjacent pedestrian walkways, one to either side. These have white upright circular hollow steel handrails with a macadam footpath running at a less sharp, more steady angle. I am put off from taking this route, unsettled by the sight of the dark, restless water beyond, and acutely aware of a gap in the railing. I feel exposed to the elements, and this gives way to a perpetual sense of instability, as if I am standing at a great height and may be swept off my feet at any second. Suddenly I looked to my left, aware of a feeling of evening sky, which obscures the two distant geometric buildings. I realise this reddish effect is in fact balloons, and advance on to the bridge, my camera pointed at the sky, my feet tracing the surface of the ribs for a stable foothold. The balloons then subsequently descend amongst the gathered crowd and I sense that the bridge sits up on high, an opening in a vertical wall of the cityscape. I look up to see a seabird circling in the sky above. Beyond this I can see a myriad of balloons that have become trapped on their ascent, huddled beneath the darkening arch of what I take to be yet another bridge much higher above. The bird veers suddenly and, to my shock, crashes almost right at my feet. It then reveals itself to be a small model plane, made of balsa wood and paper. Together with an American youth, in casual gear: shorts, colourful socks bunched around his ankles, we examine the broken fragments. We each then chose a wing, covered in a sweet pink sugar coating with yellow writing, to eat. Cee Cee, knowing we only have the rest of today and tomorrow morning to holiday, advises me we still have time to see Manhattan-

We cross the bridge. The first building I see, directly in front of me but facing off to the right, is a large Arabasque construct, with an opening arch turning to a point at the apex and discreet lighting down either side. The surrounding buidings and streets are more modest in size, but they make up for any inferiority with an abundance of strip and neon lighting advertising the goods on sale therein. I have a sense of discussing this area with my friend Pee EmmCee, but I am definitely now talking with an American girl, with whom I have struck up a warm and instant friendship. We 'surf' the shops as indescriminately as one would the internet. One store, selling African goods, has a variety of small, flexible, beaded plates on offer, in a mixture of cyans and blacks and reds. There are four different coloured dogs behind the counter, each dressed in a tight woollen costume, complete with stitched noses, mouths, and old fashioned button eyes. On closer inspection they seem to me like aged jacket buttons, browning leather with stitching across in an 'X' or '+' pattern. My companion urges me to leave the second the dog nearest us begins to stir and take notice-

We are now in some sort of record bazaar, a 'U' shaped market space comprising a series of small shop units with their own roll-down black shutters. This occupies the Arabesque building. I spot a copy of RIDE's 'Today Forever:expanded', which I see contains 8 songs that I don't know, together with a further 8, equally split between 2 other artists. My companion is amused by my wanting to leave before I am continually drawn to the site of yet another Traffic rarity, inhabiting a Pommes Fritz-era Orb cover. We walk through more shops / units and I see books both old and new, and I remark that I have been here before. I feel it is the books that are familiar, if not the place. I look again at the same African dishes, but in a different shop, conscious of another stitched, woollen dog. This turns out to be a friendly Golden Labrador, but my companion urges me not to touch it as it sweeps the display with its massive head. As we reach the turn of the 'U' some units are beginning to close, rolling down their shutters, and I start to talk about how the record shops in Glasgow are closing down, lost, and that the feeling of this market is precisely what has vanished. At this moment my companion has become Kay Ess, but she still speaks in an American accent-

Friday, 2 August 2019


At the seaside(?) and a group of us are gathered around a large-ish rockpool. It's hard to ascertain whether we are adults or much younger... The rockpool itself is not sunken - we are not looking down into it - but raised up and we peer over the edge like a zoo exhibit. There is a bearded man with us and he is some sort of hunter gatherer type, reaching and splashing into the pool to display the sealife. He pulls out some sort of eel and chews at its head, eventually biting it clean off, holding the limp body in his clenched fist. There are dozens of small octopi visible huddled around the edge of the pool just under the surface. The are not quite representative of the actual species, having bulbous heads with two blank eyes staring straight ahead. Their flesh is pasty as a per a cooked prawn, with the typical pinkish colouring in at the joints. Their legs, in as much as they are visible, are tucked tightly in to sit under their round heads. I mention these to the hunter and he says they are edible, yes, but not worth bothering with- 

Suddenly down the pier(?) to the right from the rockpool there is an immense struggle and a huge langoustine-esque creature batters down onto its back on the timber. I'm guessing its been wrestled from the sea by the hunter. This deep green beast has huge plates of overlapping shell all along its body, it's head/face more reminiscent of a crab, protected as it is by the shell. It seems to rear up and look at us in a curious manner and-

Saturday, 27 July 2019


Guys driving about in out garden in a Ford Fiesta. Skidding about on the grass like crazy. Frightening. I was calling out to my father for help. He was sitting at my parent's bedroom window writing. I was in the garden-

Scene in some sort of cafe. The waitresses wore typical clothing, though a little low cut, comprising light blue shirt and a white apron. Sort of saucy 'Carry On...' style feature. One waitress pulled down her top and, with a saucy laugh, plopped her breasts out. Another woman sat topless and my attention, and hand, was focussed on her left nipple. My hand approached and tweaked the nipple revealing it to be a weird insect, a sort of butterfly-like colourful object-

It had blank, ink-like splotches interspersed with bright red and yellow colours. Needless to say this all got a huge laugh. I then proceeded into the rear of the cafe and through into the kitchen/staff area. There was a TV set on a cabinet in the corner and a waitress breastfeeding her baby. Bee from Presto supermarket was there too-

The waitress said something like, “How I manage to … and be a working mother today, I just don't know!” The middle part of this was the gag and again everyone laughed heartily. Bee looked at us and said something and laughed-

First day back at University in second year. Walking along to Unit 6. All the Unit temporary separating timber partitions had gone and everything was open plan. 'I Never Want An Easy Life If Me Or He Were Ever To Get There' by The Charlatans was playing on a stereo. Everyone was singing along. I got to Unit 6 and sat down next to my friend Jay Cee at the wall. We were all singing along-

Monday, 22 July 2019


In the loft at the Studio, aware that Jay Gee had somehow committed an act of murder. He'd shoved a Virgin Media representative down a brick shaft that had an opening into the loft area. I wasn't sure if the man was injured prior to this, but I sensed Jay wasn't concerned, remarking that he'd done this before to two others. The man was clearly dead and we heaped some black bin bags of rubbish and debris down on top of him. I kept running through the sequence of events in my mind, trying to think if I'd missed anything or if indeed the events had actually taken place-