I hope to see the hills.
I hope to see rolling hills.
Ones that seemingly never end.
Ones that I can't find
the words to describe.
I know there exists
such feats of nature out there.
I've seen it with my two eyes.
Where the land has been untouched by the ignorance of man.
Where I feel lost to time.
Yet cannot seem to spend enough of,
round these mountains that wind.
I felt the hills below me,
Undulating,
Without sin,
Innocent as the cries of a new born child.
I felt all that and more,
Simply under my feet.
What more could I have gauged had I lay down,
Peering into the blue skies above
With an empty stare.
It is there that I know what it is to be human,
Where things made sense.
I hope to see the hills again.
I hope to see them rolling.
I cried in an Uber once.
It seems silly thinking about it now.
To be honest it was years ago.
I probably wouldn’t do the same anymore
Or so I’d like to think.
Why didn’t I just walk home?
It would have taken about an hour,
roaming the streets of Bristol
In the dark didn’t usually scare me.
Why the quick journey home?
Subconciously my mind was looking out
for me I suppose,
street lights and emotional instability
aren’t often the best of combinations,
unlike a glass of lemonade on a
hot summer’s day.
Maybe a glass of lemonade would have
solved all my problems?
They do say ‘when life gives you lemons …’
Nonetheless I ended up in a strangers car,
One I pair for funnily enough.
He noticed I was leaking water from my eyes,
‘Everything okay?’ he asked softly.
‘Not exactly’ I replied.
‘Don’t worry, everything will be alright’
A slight chuckle finishing off his sentence.
I always remembered this moment,
Almost three years later.
That is the most vivid memory of that night.
It is almost as if he’d seen this
exact thing before,
whether or not he,
the uber driver
had lived this feeling out himself
or that he had been through
the same experience with this previous
customer.
Or perhaps he only picked up those
who needed consoling?
I wouldn’t have been surprised,
not only was his driving smooth
but so was his demeanor.
I remember getting out the car,
feeling cured,
less leaky from the eyes
and more present in the moment.
The confined space of the car
forced our two opposing
energies to balance out.
I can’t remember his name,
I wish I could.
Whoever you are I’d like to thank you.
To tell you that what you said was true,
Everything will be alright.
So the next time,
(if there is a next time),
I’m crying in an uber,
I will say those very words
to my future self.
A self that once again has forgotten
how alright everything is.
My friend Max once wore his Air Max 95 ‘Chilis’ into work. They hadn’t been worn for a while, so unfortunately like a lot of older Nike shoes, they began to crumble. Scraping away the left foot’s midsole into the bin, he looked at them with a sense of loss. He was about to throw them away till I asked, “Can I have them if you’re just going to chuck them?” to which he replied, “Yeah sound”. A standard reply in the halls of shoe retail.
I had them tucked away in my cupboard in a JD string bag, hoping I could do a sole swap when I had the time. I took them back home a few months later, tinkering with them in the shed. I managed to get some more of the midsole off, but the shoe still looked worse-for-wear. They took a place next to my Air Max 2003s which I had bought off Depop back in 2016. They too had suffered the same fate as they started falling apart when I was at the gym. There they sat, two Nike shoes out of action. Hunched over on the benches, awaiting the day where the Coach would call them back into play. I hadn’t had much experience with shoe restoration, having partly reglued the soles of a pair of Jordan 14’s and a pair of Ice Cream Boardflip 2’s that I de-soled and took down to the local cobbler. I could manage the removal part of process, yet needed to improve my fixing portion. Quite metaphorical if I do say so myself, luckily this short piece is about shoes and not a tell-all though.
I was scrolling my IG feed when I had seen Nike Server doing an event at the Vibram London Academy. It sounded perfect, an opportunity to bring back to life two previously retired Nikes. The sustainability hashtags were about to go off. It was a three-day event running from the Thursday till the Saturday and having the time to kill, I went up on the first day.
This was a pair I’d never seen before. Someone told me the name but annoyingly I can’t remember!
Selection of shoes for repair on the first day of the event. Peep the waffle’s in that OG colourway
Arriving at Waterloo, I then grabbed the tube to Old Street. It wasn’t a part of London I was familiar with having never spent a night dancing my socks off at XOYO, so thank goodness for 21st century tech. I arrived at the shop where it seemed relatively busy. I whipped out the shoes and began discussing with Mr Nike Server himself which midsoles would work best with which shoe. I opted with going for the larger yellow midsole for the Chilis, thinking the contrasting yellow and red would work well. Then for the 2003s, I went for a slightly less in-your-face cup soles in order to cover up the glue markings. Having not realised that the shoes would be fixed and ready to go the same day, I handed the shoes over to the team behind the counter. It cost £45 a pair which I thought was reasonably and would eventually go onto find out was a solid price compared to the usual £70 for a midsole repair. You can’t put a price on sustainability though, right?
“Should be about 6 weeks mate”, the London-sounding Vibram cobbler announced as the payment went through. I walked out the shop, two shoes down but eager to see what the result would be. It wouldn’t be till around 7 weeks later that I would find out. Having followed the Vibram London Academy on IG I did get a glimpse at my pair of Air Max 2003’s as it had been uploaded with a selection of other shoes. A few days later I received a text saying:
I headed up the Wednesday, feeling like I was about to be reunited with an old flame. Sad? Possibly but being into creps isn’t always glitz and glamour, more time it’s just a bunch of people who are enthusiastic about a piece of cloth glued to rubber. If you really want to boil it down to its essence, but where’s the romance in that. I thought of it more as two pieces of iconic design, hidden in the shadows awaiting the day to once again rest between foot and concrete, roaming the streets of this diverse, beautiful world.
The selection of Five Fingers in store
As I made it back to Old Street Tube station, my phone remained in pocket as I was now more familiar with the area. It was humidly-hot that day, the London streets bright and colourful with an array of sun dresses coupled with shades. Seeing the yellow Vibram store logo up ahead, I was merely few steps away from finally seeing the shoes in person. As I stepped in, the team seemed to be in better spirits this time. Perhaps it was the combination of the blue skies and the fact they weren’t swamped with youths bringing in their beaten-up trainers. They received a total of 94 pairs from that event if I remember correctly. That’s a lot of new hybrid Vibram’s walking about the pavements and a whole lot more shoes rescued from landfill. That works out to about 30 odd pairs each day during the event, that’s no small feat.
the 95 Hybrid’s fresh out the shop
The shoe sits perfectly on the rolling gait midsole
Whilst they looked for my two pairs, I took a browse at their Five Finger selection. I’d been looking at getting a pair of minimal footwear since hearing about the barefoot running movement a year before. What better time to try a pair on than in the London store itself. I tried a selection on making sure that they fit correctly. Putting on the V-train 2.0s after the more minimal indoor/gym iteration, I knew this one would last a whole lot longer due to the heavier tread pattern and more rugged upper. This would also leave the door open for any possible future trail runs. They were a long step away from my Salomon Speedcross 4’s, but would be a great way of building up foot and ankle strength.
my bad boy five fingers that keep low to the ground but that ground feel high
Having now worn them for a week at the gym, I can truly say these have been one of, if not my best gym shoe to date. No longer do I have to walk around in my socks or some overly cushioned trainers. Ground-feel is what everyone should be after when weight training at the gym and these certainly provide enough of that. As someone who’s into creps, it also veers round the issue of having to wear your gym shoes on the journey to, as the five fingers are easily packable. If only I had known this a few years ago, it would have saved me spending half of my retail life walking around in my Pegasus 38 Gore-Tex editions. A great shoe however, one that deserved some rest from my average 13K steps a day.
Overall, the event and the shoes were a success. I ended up with two unique Nike trainers and a pair of minimal footwear shoes. Collecting the shoes also gave me a reason to travel on the Elizabeth line which was great experience in and of itself. If you know me, I’m all about good experiences. Would I recommend the re-soling process to a friend, most definitely!
The 95 in the Elizabeth Line tube tunnel
The new Elizabeth seat design providing a great backdrop to highlight the 03’s
Fleeting,
often times my creativity
is there one second
and gone
the next.
You follow the fluttering wings
of a butterfly
and try to capture it
in your small, youthful hands
only to open them and find
it’s not there.
Did it ever exist?
The question floats off
much like the butterfly.
If it was even real.
You stick your tongue out
pulling your waterproof hood back
as you do so,
finding a lack of water droplets
available to bounce off the
edges of your lips,
opening your eyes you see the
sun shining bright unlike it
was just a minute ago.
These quick changes of state
happen all the time,
forever around you.
Who are you to criticize
the direction of the wind?
merely adapt,
embrace this change of direction
and of thought
or cease to exist
in a world full of
life
and
creativity.
With each face of the mind,
make sure you look it in the eye,
no matter how quick its glance.
The City seems to drag me down,
it’s grey and big,
and leaves me with a frown.
I try and smile,
for those around,
but that just drives me,
towards a sound,
a noise that I can seem to hear,
a noise to make me disappear,
into a background where the rest dare follow,
because no one likes to be swallowed.
They walk in Suits and all,
hoping they too don’t fall,
for the City is not too kind to those,
who are so rude and turn up their nose,
they are so brash and some even daunting,
unlike the shade of red who seems to be flaunting,
her God-given right to look cool and suave,
She sticks to her own lane,
And paves her path,
for the City cannot reach certain ones,
who know their own worth,
who stick to their own guns,
so keep your head up and look onwards,
as the city can see those who look downwards,
you’ve been here a while,
you do belong,
the city is listening,
so sing out your song.
I was in Holland and Barrett earlier buying some vitamin D tablets with my mum. Whilst getting my Clubcard out, one of the ladies behind the counter asked me, “what does ‘Pars r us’ mean?”. The way she asked me in her classic southern mum voice made me chuckle. I hesitated for a moment as I wasn’t sure what angle to approach the question with. Do I try and give her a mini lesson in the history of Grime? Would she even know what Grime is? Do I reference Tempa T? Do I tell her Westwood taught Tempa’s mum how to par on her knees … in the alleyway? These were all of questions that rushed through my head during those 3 seconds that I clambered for an appropriate answer.
In the end I just said “It’s a reference to a niche music genre from the early 2000s” to which I didn’t get much of a reply. I think I may have gotten a, “ah okay” at best. I felt like perhaps she wasn’t satisfied with the answer, feeling like I was holding back but ultimately, I didn’t think she’d have resonated with the full answer. “It’s a play on the Toys’r’us logo. Pars mean insult basically” I added. Once again, I refrained from adding Westwood’s specific example of parring; she wouldn’t have benefitted from such an image. I left the shop wondering if she would ever stumble across the Next Hype music video and think “I’ve seen that T shirt!”. In fact, I wonder if they’ve got a white board in their staff room similar to the one in Westwood’s Office with their par count next to their names. “Linda | 34 Pars”. Either way she was ‘today years old’ when she came across one of Grime’s best bootleg T’s.
westwood pointing out Peter’s rediculus Par count compared to Tempz’s
I have finally seen Earl Sweatshirt live. It was a long time coming. He had a show up in London back in June 2013 that I will always regret not going to. His warmup act that travelled the road with him that year was none other than the New York Trio, Ratking. The trio ended up breaking up around a year later, so I squandered one of the only chances I had of seeing them live. Am I still angry about it till this day, quite possibly.
Earl’s set definitely lived up to my expectation but didn’t surpass it. It was only about thirty to forty minutes long unfortunately, so I was definitely left wanting more. I suppose that’s what all good salesmen do though, but Earl isn’t a salesman and this wasn’t some form of marketing event 101. I was at a gig that I paid a fairly hefty price for to see my favourite artist perform. I managed to get some cool snaps through the Cybershot once again which is always a plus. However, not being right underneath Mr Sweatshirt’s nose meant that the pictures that I did get lacked the juiciness I was after. You can’t always win though (some occasional wins would be preferable though). In terms of his set, I found myself enjoying most tracks but a lot of them I didn’t even know all that well. Luckily, I could relate to his impeccable choice of instrumentals which had the crowd swaying from side to side. Sadly, as his last track Fire in the Hole played, a fight broke out in front of me creating some sort of commotion that brought me out of the performance. Some people are just selfish. A track so tame and laid back that surely should have prevented any sort of violence from breaking out but alas, two men clearly lacking in emotional development jostled each other to the floor, taking a piece of enjoyment out of everyone’s night who were unlucky enough to be stood around them. I’m not bitter though …
Interestingly enough, Earl finished off by playing Future’s LOVE YOU BETTER from his latest album. Earl was the one to put me onto Future back in 2014. I was listening of his longer interviews when he was asked which artist’s he was listening to when he mentioned Future’s now classic Monster Mixtape. To this day both Throw Away and Codeine Crazy never fail to gauge some sort of emotion out of me. His stage presence was everything I had expected. I kept thinking about how I was watching one of the greatest wordsmiths on earth. His mastery of words is one that runs through his blood and is so evident within the music he creates.
Action Bronson then came on with The Alchemist to do their thing and they were very entertaining. They played the electric guitar song which was fun. Alchemist showed off his unquestionably great selection of instrumentals which had the crowd grooving and moving throughout the entirety of the set. Overall, I would give this gig an overall 7.4/10. I could have done with seeing Lord Apex’s set but as I said beforehand; you win some, you lose some.
Ecstatic,
an emerald green,
shone so bright,
but your vision remained
unimpaired.
A soft white
noise
echoed in the dark
so unheard
that
desperate for some recognition,
decided to do the most
monstrous things.
A creature
still and breathing
eyes fixed
on a spot behind
so looking through you,
it ignored all the
pain and
red flesh
that bridged the gap
between it and its target.
A smile crawled up onto your face
unworried by the danger ahead.
Too many scars had
left you numb
to the lifeless eyes
that had looked through you all your life.
I really didn’t know what to expect when I queued Francis Ford Coppola’s Koyaanisqatsi: Life Out of Balance last Sunday evening. About ten minutes in I thought, “guess we’re in for a 2001: A Space Odyssey type of intro”, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Thirty minutes later and the held, visual shots that coincided with the music kept going. At that point, I assumed this was it in terms of its narrative. I was right. Whilst at first I was a bit annoyed, wanting to watch a film with more let alone any dialogue, seemed like a small ask. Especially when I was trying to eat my Sunday Lunch leftovers (the roast potatoes were great thanks for asking). At around the thirty-five-minute mark I was left at a crossroads. Do I turn this off and opt for something less involved? I only spent a pound on the two DVD collection from the charity shop so all-in-all it wasn’t too much of a loss. However, Francis Ford Coppola was a household name and any future conversation involving him could have been jeopardised by the fact that I gave up on one of his films less than halfway through. Weighing my options, I decided to persist. In hindsight I made the right decision. Whilst the film can come across as pretentious, this will only occur if you do not surrender yourself to it. I went in extremely blind having briefly read the blurb on the back of the case when I first purchased it but had since forgotten the premise. I truly did not know what to expect. The first of the collection was called “Life Out of Balance”. A fitting title.
I recently finished Yvonne Chouinard’s Let My People Go Surfing which I quite enjoyed in a shockingly, interesting way. I feel like the film could go hand-in-hand with this book. I can imagine the author and owner of Patagonia reading excerpts of his book along to this film and it would work marvellously. I feel like the film began to influence me once I decided to surrender myself to it as a work of art, which this film is undoubtably so. To call this anything other than art would not do it justice.
Once the human built and City scape elements of the film came in, that is when I started to become transfixed with what I was watching. The city shots reminded me of the ones used in the original Bladerunner (1969). Thanks to Corridor Digital’s great behind the scenes look into the film making process, I was aware that those shots were achieved using miniatures and model-sized lights blinking away. This made me think of the way cities are designed and inspired more so by circuitry rather than nature. You could easily have mistaken several held shots of a city for a motherboard. One moment I loved was of a glass windowed building from ground level that reflected the blue sky above. At first I thought, “what a great image”. Yet it was only seconds later that I realised that it is not the building that is beautiful, but the sky itself. Buildings will never achieve the ability to mesmerise like nature does, the best it can do is mimic the natural beauty surrounding it.
The last few months I also have understood how much processed foods we as people consume. After recently having the chance to experience being close to nature, eating organic food and soaking in the power of the sun, I appreciate this film’s message a lot more. The numerous shots of factory-made goods were just another reminder of how detached we are from the food chain process. This film came out in the 80s which was a decade that saw leaps and bounds in the consumption of electronic items. It was also the decade in which we started to become aware of the effect humans were having on the planet. The News was covered with the idea of having a hole in the Ozone Layer, caused greatly by chemicals used in beauty products at the time.
My favourite shot in the entire film was right of the end. I had spent the last 20 minutes being almost hypnotised by the sped-up shots and score. I was yanked out of this trance when I thought I was watching Interstellar, an absolute favourite of mine. I have no doubt that Nolan has watched this and taken huge inspiration from this portion. In fact, Koyaanisqatsi itself deals with a deteriorating world that is implied if we do not change our course. The last minute or so, we see the remains of an exploded Space Rocket spin violently back to Earth. In this instance it is slowed down so we can see it spinning, flames lashing out of it. Similar to the floating plastic bag scene from American Beauty, it was arresting. I watched the flames roar and then tame themselves, switching between the two every few seconds. “Was this a looped shot” I began to wonder, almost forgetting that this object was hurtling towards earth. I was so entrapped. This last image was one that really summed up the films message. Whilst alluring, this fiery mess was racing towards its destruction.
I look forward to seeing the second film, Powaqqatsi: Life in Transformation. If there is anything that could convince me that we are living in a simulation it is this, so let’s hope the next one has a slightly more positive outlook!
She dived into the water
not knowing what lay below,
but the fun was in not knowing;
the unexpected.
So much of her life had
been planned.
Meticulous.
That’s how she would
describe her childhood,
which was sad.
She chased chaos,
almost threw herself
at it.
She knew why,
which made the act
less crazy.
Or so she had convinced herself.
Emerged in the deep blue
she was safe again,
something she had unfortunately
had to learn on her own.
Her parents were never absent,
yet at the same time
they weren’t exactly present.
Floating there
her eyes shut
waiting for some form
of contact.
A nibble from a fish
Or the brushing past of a shark.
Maybe the Sea wasn’t the right place
to look for embrace.
wear shoes, write poems 