Penarth to Lavernock
steve coel
steve coel
An 11.59 Publication
Experimental Short Fiction: Publications + Proposals. © Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Damn right I got the blues...
Damn right I got the blues
We Never Close
Steve Coel
True story.
An uncle of mine was resident in London.
Went out with his girlfriend
to listen to music
and have fun.
to listen to music
and have fun.
First venue too loud, crowds, no good.
Stayed 20 minutes.
Second venue, 200 yards away.
Too loud, crowds.
Too loud, crowds.
Stayed 20 minutes.
Third venue, 200 yards away.
Crowds, mellow atmosphere.
Went in.
Stayed all night, changed life.
Went in.
Stayed all night, changed life.
1st venue - Rolling Stones
2nd venue - Yardbirds
3rd Venue - Sonny Terry and Brownie Maghee.
You know each venue probably
changed his life in some way.
It certainly left him with a great story.
changed his life in some way.
It certainly left him with a great story.
I'd love to do a similar 1/2 mile walk today.
But what would be the chances
of having a similar life experience like that?
steve coel
of having a similar life experience like that?
steve coel
Documentary Fiction Photgraphy
An 11.59 Publication
Broken zips.
Stretton
steve coel
2+2 and 2+2
Q: Where does happiness happen?
A: [ Laughing ] In my stories? Somewhere else most of the time!
You're right though, ( much of the ) happiness can really disappear in some of my stories.
That doesn't mean it never happened, or won't happen ever again.
Perhaps there is a different happiness to be had though ( for some )?
Like, why so many drugs?
Certain things, no certain places, I find can generate a greater tolerance for the shit that seems to be happening in a story.
So, maybe my characters can find a different level of happiness, or state of mind I can't.
Now that that would be weird, wouldn't it?
I create them ( the characters ), but then fail to understand them! [ Laughs ].
Steve Coel
An 11.59 Publication
Things I learnt in the graveyard.
Things I learnt in the graveyard
When I was a younger man I used to wander up the hill to sit in the
graveyard.
The views were terrific.
You could see along the coast, up into the mountains and down into
the city.
Bit like the Rockies outside Denver, but on the coast.
Anyway.
The horizon each way along the coast represented the limit to the
life I could expect if I never moved on.
just because
steve coel
In Oregon I met a drifter who lamented the end of boundaries.
To him there was nowhere else to move on to.
No spaces left to get lost in.
He was right.
I know that now.
I read about the town I grew up in.
I log on to the internet copy of my once local paper. Little has
changed it would seem.
The lack of change suits it.
I wonder sometimes how many people reflect on the place they grew
up in.
Is it still home?
Not really.
I wanted to live my life beyond the horizon I could see from the
graveyard on the hill.
I still do.
steve coel
An 11.59 Publication
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