Elliot Smith’s Ghost 


I dreamt Elliott Smith visited my room or his ghost came to see me and he played a new song. I scribbled down the lyrics on a paper that I found under my nightstand. 
“She had 2nd degree rope burns 

For all her ties that have bound 

Singing Nico in shower 

Such a sad sweet simple sound 

We were drinking on the roof tops

Summer weather, Such a swelter

Silent lanterns light the night 

Playing cards that other dealt her 

Ashtray fills with whispered thoughts 

Starting fires with stolen lighters 

Smoke detectors chirped us awake

Extinguishing feelings like firefighters 

Morning wake up late for nothing 

Mattress matters of torn lovers 

Sweaty radiator popcorn popping

Salty skin exposed, no covers”

Goodbye Song 


She played the devil
When I thought I was god 

We tempted each other with scars 
In old brick towers

We rested our sins 

Like prisoners without any bars
She spoke like a song

I played like a fiddle 

The radiator banged like a drum 
We tasted the iron

From each other’s tongues 

We bled there until we went numb
In the soft morning 

We spouted harsh words 

The rain on a wedding day 
In burned out cathedrals

Our confessions were heard

Though we’d long forgot how to pray
She asked if love was forever

I told her to live for today

We both forgot to comply
So when the darkness came

I locked the door behind me 

I didn’t wake her to say goodbye
 

The Art Of Being Uncool


“The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.” – Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffmann) – Almost Famous

What is cool? Who the fuck cares? As I lay in my bed at 6:23am wide awake on my day off, it’s certainly not me! Did I mention I’m laying in my bed, at my parents house, where I’m living, as a divorced single grown ass man? You see life is a dick sometimes, and we find ourselves in some uncool places.

I have never felt “cool” in my life, well maybe a few times, but it was short lived. I’m a self-proclaimed poet, that’s so not cool. Sure I’ve written 4 books, been published many times in publications, and got to write about everything from politics to rock-n-roll, but it took being uncool to do that. I’ve interviewed punk rock royalty and rock legends, but again, it’s because I’m uncool. Cool people don’t become journalists and poets, they become rockstars and people who get interviewed. It’s up to us uncool writers to make them seem cooler than they actually are. 

The art of the uncool is what makes art beautiful. Sure artists are seen as cool, along with writers, but have you known any? We are a weird bunch of introverted, extroverted, anxiety filled, depressed, emotional train wrecks that make messes as forms of expression. We are artists because we can’t do what normal people do. Our way of dealing with life is fucked up so we paint, create, write and barely hold it together. 

We aren’t cool, we know it, and most of us don’t fucking care. You see, we found out early, just how the game works. There were the social classes even as kids. The jocks, the beautiful, and us, those awkward quiet ones. The ones drawing pictures, playing instruments, making messes and writing stories. We were the weirdos and the outcasts but we knew it. By the time we were adults, some of us dropped out into the normal life, some even changed to become “cool” but many of us stayed the course of the uncool. We got art degrees, dropped out to create or simply just never tried to gain higher education for the sake of our art. We put art first and carried our baggage into our adulthood like a champ. We watched relationships struggle, found ourselves isolated and even in some really shitty places. This was all part of being the uncool. 

I write everyday. It might be poems or blogs or songs or something. My brain says write and I do, even if I’m working. I have a shit job and it’s not my priority, because I’m uncool and think art is more important. I work with some amazing talented and very uncool people. These weirdos think the same, we all suffer in the name of art but more so, in the name of being uncool. 

The art of being uncool is that place where you know you have a voice and it’s yours. It’s when you see your own creativity blossom into a chaotic hurricane of hope, despair and beauty. Being uncool is cool, because being an artist is contradictory. We are fucking weird. We want love and health and financial stability but we don’t want it either. We create things people want but refuse to sell it or rather give it away. Our lives are filled with self-inflicted critiques, internal struggle and a wide array of social issues that seem to alienate us further from the rest of society. We live weirdly, very uncool, as beautiful messes. That’s the art, the art of being uncool, and we who embrace it are at times the only assemblamce of cool left in this world. 

Austin Texas: A Lesson In Mindfulness 


When I booked my trip to Austin earlier this year I hadn’t really thought much about what it would be like? I knew it was a cool town from all I’ve seen and heard about it. The music and “weirdness” has been overly stated in documentaries, travel shows and movies. I’ve been interested in going since I saw “Slacker” back when I was still a teenager, but I still was just looking to get away. 

My friend, Stacey, had invited me down to stay at her house. I’ve always seemed to connect with her so I thought it would be a good fit, I wasn’t wrong, the thing is due to our like-mindedness and similar struggles in life, it turned out to be a very important and needed piece to this journey. 


I arrived on a Friday, excited to be away from my job and my current rut. Though things began a bit off, weird even. I landed at a literal brand new terminal at the airport, which was only two days old and a drive from the actual main terminal,  Stacey, a Austin veteran, found me after some annoyance, and we were off, beginning my five day adventure. 

It was warm, but a welcomed heat from the on again off again winter of Cleveland. I was tired from work and travel but eager to put that behind me. We ate, relaxed, and attended a local comedy night, which was fun. It gave us time to catch up too after not having seen each other in years. It felt comfortable and refreshing to be visiting someone who understands my trials and circumstances. 


The next few days were planned out but not in an overwhelming way. Plenty of stuff to do mixed with a lot of downtime. There were many times of laughter but also some deep beautiful moments for the soul. The term “Mindfulness” is a perfect and appropriate description. Spending time taking in the local food, culture, and arts of this great American city. 


Sunday, the busiest day, we woke early and went to eat barbecue at a local spot, which was less popular than our initial plans, it was worth every mouthwatering penny. After food, we walked around town, visiting cool little shops and just chatting about life. It was such a needed time for me as I have had so little companionship lately. In the heat of the day we decided to rest, change and then it was time for Stacey’s planned art tour. We hit The Contemporary, a great little museum in downtown Austin, featuring a great exhibit by painter Garth Weiser. We then ventured out for food around the campus of the Universty of Texas. We took buses which was a great way to get around, as Austin has a fantastic bus system that is super cheap. 


That night, we met up with Stacey’s roommate for an exhibit called “The Color Inside, a Skyspace” by artist James Turrell. I didn’t take photos but if you have a chance check this out, it’s one of the more meditative things I’ve experienced and it for the theme of my trip as a very mindful exercise. I felt it was a great end to a fantastic day with a great friend. 

The rest of the week I spent wandering Austin alone, using busses and the awesome independent car service, RideAustin, which is their unique version of Uber. There is no Uber or Kyft in Austin, so this is their homegrown alternative. It even gives you the option to donate a portion of your fare to a charity, the app lists many. 

So I got several things up on my two solo days. Checking out museums and getting my hair done at Bird’s Barbershop in 6th Street. I checked out some touristy things but mainly just hopped around local spots and coffee shops, getting lost and loving the freeedom of my time. 


On my last day I went to the Blanton Museum of Art on the campus of The Univerity of Texas. I got in free because I’m an employee of the Cleveland Museum Of Art, so that was an added bonus. They had a great collection that was heavy on the contemporary side of things, which I love. All and all a fantastic Museum I recommend. 


I have to say this trip was my favorite I’ve ever taken. It is not because of the place as much as the experience and beauty of self discovery. A lot took place that was heavy and thought provoking, simple moments and other much deeper times of reflection. Stacey and I shared a lot about our stories, pain, suffering and our outlook on a new beginning. She helped me a great deal by exposing me to something’s I overlooked, primarily living for each moment as it comes. 

I will say this about my friend, she is a true beauty of a human being. I’ve always found her to be lovely, more so than most, but her soul is a wonderful thing. There have been moments that she was a crush and she has been a poetic muse for a long time but it’s her spirit that really makes her special. She can be as bright as a sunset and as foggy as a London morning, but all and all she is one of those unique colors you see and can’t forget. With style and grace she makes the world around her more vivid, like artwork. 


On Sunday there were a few moments where I was simply overcome by her energy and just blessed to be in her presence. First off, she looked amazing, just perfect style and she carried it with grace. Secondly, there was a point that I walked with her and it was like the world stopped just for us to enjoy each other’s company. She was the only person I noticed, not in some romantic way, but just completely at peace with where I was and who I was sharing my time with. I was genuinely happy, something I haven’t felt in a long time. She helped me in that. Thirdly, there were times of silence, where we took in the surroundings, a sing, a film, and lived in that moment. That meant the world, to do that. 

So as I sit writing this I am grateful, and feel like I had a breakthrough. My life is still that of a man broken by divorce, working a shitty job and living at his parents home, but I see a different purpose. It’s simple, just a little tweaking of the knobs, getting a clearer picture. It’s about the mindfulness of moments and  soaking up the true ether of life around us. It’s not always good and we will struggle but we can only control what we can, so try to not worry. Also love people, in those moments, without expectations or motivations. Just be, and set your goals accordingly. Remember the term “Mindfulness”.