yyaldrin
in je ogen waait de wind
i think this is one of my favorite pieces of writing i've read since a long time, genuinely touching:
michele piteo
2 jaar geleden
This was one of my best friends in the 1980s. SERIOUSLY under-recorded. He was genuinely tuned to the astrale-plane like any respectable Irish "lepracorn"....these types of moon-lit artists shun the spot-light. The real Mike o Shea loved to play and entertain AT home. He had a work-shop/bedroom at first in Hampstead,London; later he got the bedroom and the kitchen after driving out the co-op sharer with his famous tantrums [ax mark in the wall} After staying over-night , there was sense of another dimension...Let alone the eeree sound of the trains passing by at bottom of his garden... heard from within his home those trains sounded spooky/otherworldly... Ha ha when he died ,they kept finding little pieces hashish buried all over the place. One day i found him crying, looking sad and relieved and so sweet...he KNEW he would be dying before he got knocked down by a bus on Kilburn High road ,you know...Sometimes , the magic would take him over and he would dress up like a woman ALTHOUGH never acting like a queen,which was PRETTY funny, but his eyes would be wired different. Not gay as far as i know. Funny,witty,smart, SUPER-SENSITIVE and loved humour; loved to entertain his many friends at home MORE than give concerts or bother to make albums. I met his ghost in garden soon after his death which was an alter -ego opposite of him alive..aloof,cold,aristocratic. RIP....Miko, you are much loved and missed and kept us entertained either clowning around or going into a serious trance-state when the sticks were flying over the strings...
michele piteo
2 jaar geleden
This was one of my best friends in the 1980s. SERIOUSLY under-recorded. He was genuinely tuned to the astrale-plane like any respectable Irish "lepracorn"....these types of moon-lit artists shun the spot-light. The real Mike o Shea loved to play and entertain AT home. He had a work-shop/bedroom at first in Hampstead,London; later he got the bedroom and the kitchen after driving out the co-op sharer with his famous tantrums [ax mark in the wall} After staying over-night , there was sense of another dimension...Let alone the eeree sound of the trains passing by at bottom of his garden... heard from within his home those trains sounded spooky/otherworldly... Ha ha when he died ,they kept finding little pieces hashish buried all over the place. One day i found him crying, looking sad and relieved and so sweet...he KNEW he would be dying before he got knocked down by a bus on Kilburn High road ,you know...Sometimes , the magic would take him over and he would dress up like a woman ALTHOUGH never acting like a queen,which was PRETTY funny, but his eyes would be wired different. Not gay as far as i know. Funny,witty,smart, SUPER-SENSITIVE and loved humour; loved to entertain his many friends at home MORE than give concerts or bother to make albums. I met his ghost in garden soon after his death which was an alter -ego opposite of him alive..aloof,cold,aristocratic. RIP....Miko, you are much loved and missed and kept us entertained either clowning around or going into a serious trance-state when the sticks were flying over the strings...