calamity B

I never thought that life could be beautiful. I didn’t think any good things were meant for me aside from giving people laughs at a night show, with me slipping out the back door before anyone could catch me in the light. What i thought doesn’t matter, what matters is that i admit that i was wrong. And i do. I admit. Hellfire and broken arms — i admit it.
I didn’t get where i am by luck. I gave in every time life got hard and i cried and i bled and i died over and over and over again, but i still went on with all those cigarette burns and piss sodden pants i was locked away for. I always said what if? I never believed a single dream to be too stupid to try.  And thats how i ended up in the BlackHills on a god damn stagecoach with the love of my life. Pulled by a sweet pair of Haflingers called Tuff and Tea.
If i had given up all those times that i thought the world did not belong to me, well i’ll go on and say what you’re not supposed to, the world would’ve been mighty poor with me six feet deep. A lot of kids in bad schools would’ve had to take their own beatings, cause i wouldn’t have been there to stand in for ’em while they ran to some place safe.
I’m good at a lot of things, and i’m bad at a couple, but lately i’ve been trying real hard to find out what it is to be me and living on every edge of the American frontier. Only now, the first day of the rest of my tomorrows, do i know that i’ll do it all. Eventually

There’ll be no choosing this over that, calling her over him or giving up that to live like this. I can’t be one thing, i’ve tried and in my heart it don’t make no sense.
I wasn’t born for that. I’ll be the artist my mother is, the musician my father is and i’ll be the parent my stepfather showed me — the heart that a man could be.
If those days come my way. I’ll write, i’ll be the runner i wanted to be, i’ll feel it all a little harder than most but thats how you get me. I live through all those pains, bad eggs and rotten boys so others can read about it in their sun room with a cup of tea, from a dusty porch with a bloodhound at their knee or simply for myself. I sit here and i write for all of you, but the most important of my writing is that every word, letter, broken heart and bloody gape its all for me. To keep on living through hell to see the sunset in Texas. To see it all. And maybe one day, when it’s time to die, i’ll be able smile at myself and say, “holy shit, you did it. You did it all. And yet still, you’ll never find sweet tea in South Dakota girl. Thank hell for that.”

So when you think that bad thought about giving in, or letting her walk all over you or whatever the hell pain you see yourself in. Turn the fuck around and go a different way. Get out of that sad bad marriage, let go of that ugly feeling you get when you look at yourself. Flush it out like Sundays Curry and move the hell on with your life. If this cynical bastard before you can do that — there ain’t nobody who can’t. Be you. Be selfish. Be good. Be human. So you did a few bad things — its ok they’re only mistakes. And help change the world.

Where words fail.
Words fail.

the big horns



I believe that the world owes nothing. No debt to pay or government to over throw. The earth will keep on keeping on long after I’ve kicked the bucket. Same as you. The big horn mountains will still stand. The ridges may be different, but they’ll be there. Out by a fire in the middle of no place where the space is vast and full of opportunity. That’s where I go. When I’m done I move on. Carrying what little I have to my chest close as kittens. Mostly photographs, writing, old books handed to me by my grandfather and that’s all — aside from memories.
I live in my own world, because that’s where its safe. Everyone is equal there and left to themselves. It’s quiet. Smells nice to boot. Fresh grass along the streams. The desert has its time to sing. There’s nothing to worry on, except what I concoct over a fire after midnight myself. But its free. I am grateful for my chance. I don’t rub it nowhere. I don’t regret. I don’t forget. I belong where the western winds blow. I belong under the skies so deep and clear that I could paint my hearts true conviction for beating.
And all this time I’ve wondered why I wasn’t like everyone else. Why I carry a burden the way I do and now I know. It is those who suffer and keep suffering that will always, somehow, find a way to survive. Then one day, when I’m old and dying by my fire, perhaps some young good looking kids will sit by me and ask. “You’re a long way from home ma’am. How did you come to America all those years ago?” And I’ll look into my fire and smile.

the denver horse expo

Dang, I can’t tell you how busy my weekend was last week. I haven’t had any time to really sit down and think over all the things i’ve been doing lately. I’m glad to keep busy though!
I’ve missed you and i’ve missed my blog. I hope i’ll be able to catch you up on everything as the days go forward.

But last weekend was a weekend full of horses, good old cowboys, road trip talks and good company. Wild good company. I’ve only ever been to one horse event in my life, and that was in merry old England in some mucky field with too many snobs to count. Every other horse was a beautiful Gypsy Vanner with feathers from here to flight. The folks I went with were good people, I walked alongside them as they rode to the event because they didn’t have a trailer. All hundreds of miles if you can believe it. There really isn’t a lot i wont do just to be around horses — even then.

Mr. Van Hargis.

But holy shit, Denver was something totally out of this world different.
I’m not saying I grew up dreaming about going to a horse expo, because that’s false. I just dreamed of cowboying around on the back of a happy broke horse with a good sure foot and only the plains ahead of me or.. you know, monument valley. In England I always felt outside, like some scum from no place that didn’t belong to no one or nowhere. I was just this funny little clown with a stick in her arse. Here i felt a part of something, like i had a place there just as everyone else had. Some right to be there. I learned a lot and saw so many beautiful horses and so many things i want, can’t afford and don’t need.

An arabian tent for an arabian horse adventure.
I can’t remember this trainers name, but he had the personality of a New Orleans Gumbo. I really enjoyed him. “We should go dancing!” I heard him shout.
I really want this outfit… i need a vest.

It was a really amazing experience, and a fun day. I went with Sarah and Daree from the Mountain Shadows Equine Revival, and we ended the day with some Mexican food in Fort Collins on the way home. I’m glad i didn’t bring my huge Nikon. I did not fancy carrying that around all day, i only carried my small vlogging camera, so here is a little video of my time at the Expo. I can’t really get it all down into words because im a little lazy today and a lot has happened since then.

the western imposter

Hello everyone!
It’s another Monday night, and another day closer to the weekend. Boy i started counting down Sunday night. You bet i did.
Tonight i was supposed to go to the horse rescue but it showed to be far too cold to do anything, so only the feeders went out there this evening. I really wanted to go out there to get to know everyone more and to get over my anxiety a little. The more often i go the quicker that feeling subsides and i can feel like i can get more deeply involved. When i get anxious i stand in my own way, for example i wont go ahead and do something i know how to do unless i’m told. I’ll let someone show me how to do something even if i already know how to do it. See what i’m saying? Then later that’ll piss me off that i didn’t just go ahead and do it in the first place.
Nevertheless I’ll be going back on Wednesday to film some riding and lunging for an adoption video, maybe take a few pictures too. I haven’t brought the big camera out there yet but i look forward to the results. Hopefully i’ll be doing some lunging with Isabella Bird (27 year old thoroughbred who is the sweetest). I’d love to adopt her myself but i have no place to keep her — same with Prada the Arabian Princess. They are such sweethearts.
But if we’re moving again, which we most likely will, it’s just not possible for me to get a horse right now.
Bummer Ted.
It sucks that UW ruined Wyoming, because Wyoming is one of the most beautiful states i’ve ever seen in my life. Christ. The stuff of a little 6 years olds dreams of cowboys and campfires and wild horses.

Isabella Bird, named after the British explorer i believe.

It’s been a good 15 years or more since i lunged a horse, so you can bet your arse im out of practice. I also haven’t worked at barn for a year and a half now. It’s incredibly frustrating to stand in your own way, and i battle and beat my head against it daily. So even though all this socialising stresses me and worries me, i really love the company so far. Easy people to get a long with and they really want the best for the equines they care for. Not to mention that they seem more than happy to let me “in.” I kinda already feel like part of the group though i’m not as educated in the nature of horses as they are. I’m an actor after all, not an equestrian. But what more could you want from new experiences?  I think i’m pretty bad ass for going against my own insecurities and telling them to go to hell. I might be a lone bear who likes the company of crickets, but this time i found folks i like.

Barn cat black with no boundaries.

I had my first real “shift” so to speak on Saturday, and it was a great day with good company. I felt a little unsteady at first but i think given some time i’ll soon get back into the swing. Because we keep moving, as soon as i get settled in a place, it all goes down the drain then i have to start over again. And thanks to UW i’m sure it’ll happen at least one more time. However, i will say when we go out on adventures or i go to this place — it makes it easier to deal with the mundane weekdays that drain life outta me, not completely —– but some. Also — i love this damn cat. Holy crap.

Happy Jack Road

Sometimes i feel like an imposter walking around in boots & cowboy hats, with a laconic state of mind, being so foreign and trying to hustle in with the real cowkids and western girls on horse back, but they really make me feel welcome at this new place, which is totally new to me. Exciting stuff.
Anyway i filmed a few clips and will be making a video of my first day there which i can’t wait to share with you. Yesterday we also took a trip to Cheyenne where i filmed all day for the fun of it. I think it’ll be “A day in Wyoming” type of video but we’ll see how that goes with time and all.

The Western Imposter

My dad might not be from Tennessee, my step father doesn’t sing the ballads in a dive bar and my mother isn’t some Southern woman who taught me to be the perfect pioneer wife. I’m just a lost little kid walking around this big world trying everything life has to give me. Missing all those i left behind in sad and bad and pretty home places. Finding my way through fields and mountains and plains and state to state to state. I get a little closer as it goes, but i know the feeling of being an imposter may haunt me a good long year or two yet. If you look at me now though, sitting on this here rock and thinking over all the places i’ve seen and the one guy that showed me what love was like?

I don’t have that much to complain about.
Happy Monday — see you again soon.

how is it already sunday?

I don’t understand how it’s already Sunday. Wasn’t it Friday just two hours ago?
Though i suppose if you don’t really live for your day job , free time goes by faster than is necessary and is typically hard to come by. Due to particular circumstances my job has become incredibly busy lately — which doesn’t give me much time to work on my novel like i have been; unfortunately my mood is suffering something fierce from being stifled like that. As a creative person i have to do something artistic or meaningful everyday. It’s the whole point, and when that is taken away, even a little, i become a little bit of a nuisance. I get mad, rude and shut myself away. I would leave my job for less than that, if i didn’t thrive from the pay-check at the end of the month. I still have yet to receive a full pay-check and i’ve been working here since September/August time. How is that possible?

The good thing is that this means i have to really force myself to work on my novel at home, something that i’ve mentioned that i find pretty hard. When I’m home I’m exhausted from having to be around people all day and i just want to sit doing nothing, maybe play some bass or piano but i don’t want to bleed into my book when I’m already drained. However, thats just not how it works. If i’d worked on my book at work and at home — i’d have been finish a year ago.
And thus i’ve decided to try to focus more on my writing and my reading and in that regard i will be letting the social media disappear a little. I wont be doing anything extra. I’ll stick to writing, cooking dinner and occasionally swashbuckling with the swords in the yard when the weather is kind. On a side note I’ve started reading two books — one called the Modern cowboy and the other Below the Convergence about Antarctica expeditions.  Are you reading any books?

Although I have contacted the local theatre again. I contacted them last year about auditioning but then i ended up not being able to dedicate my evenings to them. However i contacted them again about participating in a monthly reading. They host an evening where people bring in their plays, and the actors sit about and read them for an audience — then a discussion ensures but i might sneak out the back door at that point. Something i’m commonly known for is disappearing when my job is over. I hang about to help back stage but i refuse to participate in the false pleasantries. It’s a very American thing to stand and talk to the audience outside the theatre afterwards and let them tell you who they loved you. Not that it didn’t happen in England too… people i worked with loved to hear compliments about their performance. I never needed them and i still don’t. I bleed on stage like i do in my books, so when i’m finished –  my job is done and the rest is none of my business. It would be nice to do some decent theatre in America. So far New England was a pretty terrible experience.  Crazy directors sending me emails about taking vitamin D, being unable to work with actors …  and the actors themselves having too big egos and lacking in the ability to actually….act.
Huntsville Texas was pretty damn weird too, but i hold out hope that i’ll find a place that fits me. For me acting has to be fun. No bitching or biting or back chatting each other. Life is too dang short.

Cowboy on the prarier
Sunday Vibes

Other than that — not much is happening. We’re looking into leaving and finally ended up some place back in Texas but thats a lot of work and most likely a few months off. We’re hoping to get a visit to Deadwood in before we go and seeing a few historic places when the weather clears up. We’ve toyed with the thought of moving to the US Virgin Island or the old Danish Caribbean islands like St John or St Croix, but the crime might be the damn kicker. I don’t fancy my chances in a place with gang violence. If you could move anywhere — where would you go?

I hope you’re all having a wonderful weekend, and the it takes a long while for Monday to come around.