Blog Update - Like a Chicken with his Head Cut-off (+ Poetry)

Well since my last update, I've been running around like a chicken with his head cut-off (assuming this metaphorical chicken is indeed a 'he').

I stayed in Chania only one night. I played music in one spot in which I was largely ignored, except for one guy who sat and listened to the whole thing and then gave me a fiver when I gave up the ghost. I moved to a previously known 'good location' for me, far on one side where people take romantic walks along a few-centuries-old stonewall. I did ok in that spot and met a danish guy who had a go pro and was taking videos for his youtube channel and decided that I was worth the effort for a few songs. He said he'll send me the material when he gets through all his recordings within the next month.

I visited a touristic place nearby which he suggested might be good for busking the next morning. It looked ok and I'd have the monopoly if I did play there but information lady was sure I needed to ask the mayor for permission. I don't like the whole permission thing, I mean I play music on the street for a reason, to avoid all the arse-licking in the industry and the rules (doesn't mean I'm not polite to shop owners). But I play at a professional level now and people are happy to have me there, so it may be an idea to get a couple of spots in different cities in Crete and pay for a 30 euro permit so police can't move me on and do it in a legit way next season. (I mean even using the word 'legit' makes me feel nauseous).

I went back to Irakleio that day and then headed straight on the 3.30pm bus to Matala to get some things I left behind there. I reconnected with some good friends there and played a gig at the rasta bar called Mad Irie again. The second night there I played with one of the cave people on the street and the set went really well. He was playing his irish whistle, which he plays surprisingly well for a simple instrument (lots of feel and soul). Towards the end of the set we had a small crowd sitting on the curb listening to us and I had an opportunity to pass the hat at the nearby restaurant and most people gave money. So it was worth the 17 euro return ticket to Matala.

Now I'm back in Irakleio before I head to Rethymno to my new favourite busking spot there. I'll be out of Crete on Sunday and I need to take this opportunity to gather as much funds as possible before I leave Greece. I've decided I will head to Albania for a balkan rainbow gathering which a bunch of good friends will be attending. It's near the beaches on the shore of the Mediterranean, who knows maybe I can busk while staying at the rainbow if its close enough. That would be a first.

I may get a single day of busking in Athens in, which I'm going to earn a reduced amount in comparison to Crete but it's nice to mix it up a bit.

I wrote something this morning that was akin to poetry so I share it here for you today, wishing you the best,

Monty

===

September 10

We push push push until we get everything done
You don't want your home to be famous
You just want to live there

Anonymity is a disregarded grace
We need to hide at times
and shadows need not be lit

Another go. Another pander.
We do what we can with what we have
Until death.
Who can hide from God? No one
But a little thing inside sits
Dreaming of an unseen rebellion

You need your tools
They need to be strong

The key purpose in life is to disagree
until you lose the strength to do so
... and then agree.

Don't forget where your roots came from
At least to understand
why they react the way they do in foreign soils

I'm sorting through food today
And discarding dead weight
Backpacks need to be kept light
to save the shoulders

The coffee is saving
It's feeling my gut
and cushioning my brain

You never know the future
or what will happen next
Take nothing you have now for granted
and if you lose a pain
consider it a victory
but tarry not long on the celebration

If happiness chances on you
seize it like a feast
and ride the wave
to the ultimate shore
even if it means a final retreat.

A perfect world of dreaming
How similar we are at times
And also at moment of unease, how horribly different

The girl and her dog have come to visit again
She picks up her customary single bag of rubbish
I hope she does it for herself and not for a TV commercial

There's a small collection of homeless on the stony beach today
Another and I
I believe I met this old man on the street last week
asking me for directions to a hostel
so I sent him to this beach

Good on you, pick up that stuff
You're a champion
Even if your motivations are dictated by society
It's important you believe in something and act on that

You and your crazy dog
Who is used to me now
Your 'non-glance' almost gave away
that you were happy to see me again

Me, the wanderer, on your beach
which you clean

...

The mind is clearest when the belly is empty
The sun falls on the waves and dances with them on the froth
A vibrating, jumping ocean
Saying to the world
a change, a change, a change

Seasons mosey on and do their thing
but the wanderer is listening
and watching
the subtle differences between them over the years are the language of time

We read the waves to know what time
No heart can know the language of God
Except by listening intently to things that we are taught in institutions,
do not have the capacity for speech

So we listen to the wind
We listen to time itself
We listen to the waves of unending union and oblivion

Here we sit, listening, watching, waiting
breathing with God.

===

Copyright Monty Cash Music 2018

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