FREELANCE WRITER STEVE THORNE
WRITING SAMPLES.
AN OZ GARDENING TALE.
G'day folks, a gardening disaster story from Australia. I bloke I knew once tried to paint Australia the big wide brown land; the bugger ran out of brown.
Oh yes, but we do have gardens here. Personally I am not a gardener but I still try.
Were a laid back mob down here, and it's probably right, that doing business with us is hard, we tend to start work at eight, and by twelve noon were at the beach.
Never mind one day the rest of the world will get over it!
Moved into a beaut new place two months ago, asked the girlfriend to come, she said no, so I told her just piss off then, go-Anna.
She did, now I have to get up of the couch to get me own beers.
The place came with a top little garden, you know not to big not to small, a bloody postage stamp.
So I got busy, veggies, spuds, carrots, and my prize winning tomatoes.
Beaut tomatoes even if I say so myself. Helped on of course by that great Aussie tradition of taking a leak over them once a day. They LOVE it something to do with nitrogen, according to bluey me neighbour. Bluey leaks on his lemons. His missus Dorothy turns up at the doorstep once a week with a lemon pie, very nice, but I know what the old bloke uses for fertilizer. Now I have a fridge full of uneaten lemon pies. Bluey can eat his own damn pies.
Over the last fortnight I got really ambitious. Tried to build myself a chicken coop, and an aviary for finch breeding.
The project was going fine then one Friday I went out back too put the roof on the finch aviary. As yet me choocks had laid sod all.
So there I was, fifteen feet up, on a ladder, and fair dinkum that's high.
I stretched out to nail the roof down and the whole damn lot came down taking me with it.
Legs cut, head bleeding, aviary smashed to bits, I stood up, head spinning, the world spun round, I fell face first into me native garden. Got up again and staggered back falling and took the entire chook run out. Completely smashed to bits.
So I thought shit that’s it! I went straight inside to get a beer. Had to do that myself, as I said Anna went. I woke up next day and could barely walk.
A week later I sat quietly watching the telly, saw that funny home video show, and strike me pink, I was on it.
Turned out that my neighbour bluey had been watching over the fence and got the whole disaster on tape. Sent it in to that show and bugger me I won first prize, which just happened to be two gift vouchers to the local nursery.
Haven't picked up me prize yet, but when I do, straight to the nursery, and buy some lemon tree's.
The rest of the summer I'll spend "fertilizing" them and giving lemon pies to bluey, and I make a mean tomato soup.
STEVE THORNE.
MUSIC TEACHING HAVE WE GOT IT RIGHT.
Jenny,Jenny,JENNY." Come on hurry up your going to be late for piano lessons again. " I don't care I hate the lessons,don't like the teacher,and it,s boring."
How many parents hear or have this sort of argument every week,I venture a lot. But why is this,why do kids hate their music lessons?
I feel that many teachers are just as Jenny said boring,repetitive,and simply lack the knowledge or creativity to be anything else.
I currently write articles to deal with some of these problems. I know it is very important to
get the parents on side,so make sure you at least meet and greet them,and ask about young Jenny's specific needs. Win the parents over and most of your battle is won.
Let's speak about the age old dilemma learning to read music. Most people,and kids do not like this aspect of being taught music. I am not proposing we throw it out with the bathwater,but I am saying let's get realistic.
How many of your students ever go on to become session musicians,or,even go on and play in a band? The answer is not many. So consider that this all out emphasis on reading,to read or not too read,Must be approached sensible.So give students the basics and don't be obsessed only with reading. The basics will be enough for them to carry it further should they need to.
The music industry is hard to say the least. students need to be taught how to survive in the industry.
How do you handle criticism, how do you handle booking agents. Many of my students constantly ask me,"how do we form a band" It is a good question so I tell them,but so many other teachers will just tell them you have to pay your dues. Not good enough.
My current articles deal with these subjects and much more. Why do people learn an instrument? it is not to sit at home and play along with the greats(on you DVD player)
We learn a musical instrument so we can go and play with, OTHER, people.
I feel I have only just touched this subject as there are many other things that need re-working when it comes to the music industry and teaching. These may appear in my next article.
Thank you for reading,Stephen Thorne.
2B OR NOT 2B-SERIOUSLY.
To be or not to be. It’s in the hardness of a pencil.
Whether tis nobler in mind, to suffer a broken point,
Or use biro with stencil.
Or to take alms against a sea of troubles, and grind shavings to the
floor, and by sharpening too much,
A pencil it be no more.
To die, to sleep, perchance to dream, oh Faber Castell,
By sleep we end.
For in that sleep, that graphite keeps, trapped in a tree once again.
Apologies Bill Shakespeare.
STEVE THORNE.
THE OBSESSIVE.
Apparently may is border line personality disorder awareness month, Awareness, awareness.......
We all own our lives.dont we? Or at least we borrow it, for a while. But we alone are responsible for it. But we should never consider owning or possessing life itself.
The obsessive personality approaches life, as though the very notion of life itself can be owned.
The obsessional amongst us approach life in a highly driven manner, often approaching fanaticism. each new event or episode being seen as "the one" or "it".
By the very nature of obsessional behaviour it sets its self up only to be let down, as each successive event fails to live up to the picture of perfection.
This never ending cycle leads too tremendous dissatisfaction, anxiety, and eventually crisis!
The obsessive personality is often troubled, and rarely satisfied.
Obsessive people often being particularly individual, competitive, and rigid, and constantly driving themselves onwards. By its very nature obssesionality places people into a vicious
cycle of potential destruction.
The nooses of frustration, anxiety and despair, are increasingly drawn taught around their necks. They become haunted by the ghosts of the past, present,and even future failures.
The obsessive person’s attitude to life, and the very notion of it, needs altering.
When this is correctly done the daily tasks of living, can be carried out with a much greater sense of ease. Aspects of everyday living such as working,socializing,and,yes,even relaxing,
cause little trauma.
An ease of approach too living must be achieved. Once achieved, the sufferer can contribute and become a normal, well adjusted person.
The idea of life may seem exciting, romantic,and full of endless possibilities as indeed it is! To the obsessive personality this can be problematic. Their lives need too be fine tuned
until the nuts and bolts all fit snugly together, and can, will,and do support the individual as a whole.
If the obsessional personality insists on super - imposing his nature on society, his ship will run aground.
His ship for years has been carrying a cargo of obsessive junk. This cargo is loaded time and again, into the hold, with the usual labels attached, the ship then sets sail, only to head right into trouble once again.
Obsessive personalities tend to strive for ownership, of all that life, and living contain. They get caught up in their own whirlwind and the ship goes down again!
The obsessive persons plight can be aggravated, on more so than by an acute awareness of mortality.
The fear of death strikes deep onto the persons very being. Now he can’t do, and be all he wants to be, but is now aware he has, a limited time to achieve it in, PANIC.
If the individual feels the full weight of this there exists the perfect recipe for a crippling anxiety, depressive disorder.
Catch twenty two of course, failure...panic...try harder...do more...run...rigidity..Failure..Panic...the ship goes down again.
Life is a journey, we all, travel, some, first class others not. The traveling of that path can be harsh on the obsessive personality, even hazardous. Especially as he is traveling the road at break neck speed without a map.
The only destination along this road has already been "felt”, the end of the line, death.
His lacks of a map causing him too miss most of the pleasurable parts along the way!
Western society with its ill defined code of conduct, its ambiguous spiritual paths, and ill defined work ethic, can add to the woes.
Notions of work hard and reap the rewards, or, if at first you don’t succeed, come readily too mind.
This may be fine for some, but the obsessive always takes such ideas to the extreme.
Our society hardly knows itself, what is it actually offering for effort exerted? Apart from financial gain.
The obsessively motivated individual will of course lose his way.
As time passes the obsessive becomes despondent, and finds it hard to value any reward that does come his way. His nature is a driven one! What’s next, or, that’s not perfect so I accept no praise. The obsessive’s driven nature is a part of his personality, and can be held responsible
for a lot of the anxiety.
When this becomes a realization to the person, each new event that life throws up is not seen as a challenge, it becomes an experience. He sees life as an unfolding experience, made up of many parts, where each part is just, another part of the experience, and does not have any unwarranted degree of importance.
Each episode has its affect, but doesn’t get taken out of proportion. He realizes that each part is unique, but just another piece of the whole.
He now knows he must not let one part take a dominance by gripping too tightly too the rope,
he learns when too hold onto the rope,and,importantly when too let go!
With this new found knowledge, he no longer feels the need too rush, nor experience the panic or anxiety that goes with it.
The rope can now be let go of without fear of falling, as he has tamed, the demons causing him too grip so tightly.
He can finally stop, lift his head and look around. He has achieved a happier state of mind, and a more settled peaceful existence.
For once he may after a lot of soul searching, get what he really needs, rather than what he only thought he wanted. The path has been made,
a path that is right, right for him, because it is of his own making.
The westerner in Bali rants, raves, and demands too know! What’s this, who can explain that, what time does it begin, when does it end, and how long does it take?
Meanwhile the carnival procession passes right in front of his face!
The Balinese, well, they simply join in! There’s the answer to the westerners questions!
So May has an awareness day, mmhh!
STEVE THORNE.
Oh yes, but we do have gardens here. Personally I am not a gardener but I still try.
Were a laid back mob down here, and it's probably right, that doing business with us is hard, we tend to start work at eight, and by twelve noon were at the beach.
Never mind one day the rest of the world will get over it!
Moved into a beaut new place two months ago, asked the girlfriend to come, she said no, so I told her just piss off then, go-Anna.
She did, now I have to get up of the couch to get me own beers.
The place came with a top little garden, you know not to big not to small, a bloody postage stamp.
So I got busy, veggies, spuds, carrots, and my prize winning tomatoes.
Beaut tomatoes even if I say so myself. Helped on of course by that great Aussie tradition of taking a leak over them once a day. They LOVE it something to do with nitrogen, according to bluey me neighbour. Bluey leaks on his lemons. His missus Dorothy turns up at the doorstep once a week with a lemon pie, very nice, but I know what the old bloke uses for fertilizer. Now I have a fridge full of uneaten lemon pies. Bluey can eat his own damn pies.
Over the last fortnight I got really ambitious. Tried to build myself a chicken coop, and an aviary for finch breeding.
The project was going fine then one Friday I went out back too put the roof on the finch aviary. As yet me choocks had laid sod all.
So there I was, fifteen feet up, on a ladder, and fair dinkum that's high.
I stretched out to nail the roof down and the whole damn lot came down taking me with it.
Legs cut, head bleeding, aviary smashed to bits, I stood up, head spinning, the world spun round, I fell face first into me native garden. Got up again and staggered back falling and took the entire chook run out. Completely smashed to bits.
So I thought shit that’s it! I went straight inside to get a beer. Had to do that myself, as I said Anna went. I woke up next day and could barely walk.
A week later I sat quietly watching the telly, saw that funny home video show, and strike me pink, I was on it.
Turned out that my neighbour bluey had been watching over the fence and got the whole disaster on tape. Sent it in to that show and bugger me I won first prize, which just happened to be two gift vouchers to the local nursery.
Haven't picked up me prize yet, but when I do, straight to the nursery, and buy some lemon tree's.
The rest of the summer I'll spend "fertilizing" them and giving lemon pies to bluey, and I make a mean tomato soup.
STEVE THORNE.
MUSIC TEACHING HAVE WE GOT IT RIGHT.
Jenny,Jenny,JENNY." Come on hurry up your going to be late for piano lessons again. " I don't care I hate the lessons,don't like the teacher,and it,s boring."
How many parents hear or have this sort of argument every week,I venture a lot. But why is this,why do kids hate their music lessons?
I feel that many teachers are just as Jenny said boring,repetitive,and simply lack the knowledge or creativity to be anything else.
I currently write articles to deal with some of these problems. I know it is very important to
get the parents on side,so make sure you at least meet and greet them,and ask about young Jenny's specific needs. Win the parents over and most of your battle is won.
Let's speak about the age old dilemma learning to read music. Most people,and kids do not like this aspect of being taught music. I am not proposing we throw it out with the bathwater,but I am saying let's get realistic.
How many of your students ever go on to become session musicians,or,even go on and play in a band? The answer is not many. So consider that this all out emphasis on reading,to read or not too read,Must be approached sensible.So give students the basics and don't be obsessed only with reading. The basics will be enough for them to carry it further should they need to.
The music industry is hard to say the least. students need to be taught how to survive in the industry.
How do you handle criticism, how do you handle booking agents. Many of my students constantly ask me,"how do we form a band" It is a good question so I tell them,but so many other teachers will just tell them you have to pay your dues. Not good enough.
My current articles deal with these subjects and much more. Why do people learn an instrument? it is not to sit at home and play along with the greats(on you DVD player)
We learn a musical instrument so we can go and play with, OTHER, people.
I feel I have only just touched this subject as there are many other things that need re-working when it comes to the music industry and teaching. These may appear in my next article.
Thank you for reading,Stephen Thorne.
2B OR NOT 2B-SERIOUSLY.
To be or not to be. It’s in the hardness of a pencil.
Whether tis nobler in mind, to suffer a broken point,
Or use biro with stencil.
Or to take alms against a sea of troubles, and grind shavings to the
floor, and by sharpening too much,
A pencil it be no more.
To die, to sleep, perchance to dream, oh Faber Castell,
By sleep we end.
For in that sleep, that graphite keeps, trapped in a tree once again.
Apologies Bill Shakespeare.
STEVE THORNE.
THE OBSESSIVE.
Apparently may is border line personality disorder awareness month, Awareness, awareness.......
We all own our lives.dont we? Or at least we borrow it, for a while. But we alone are responsible for it. But we should never consider owning or possessing life itself.
The obsessive personality approaches life, as though the very notion of life itself can be owned.
The obsessional amongst us approach life in a highly driven manner, often approaching fanaticism. each new event or episode being seen as "the one" or "it".
By the very nature of obsessional behaviour it sets its self up only to be let down, as each successive event fails to live up to the picture of perfection.
This never ending cycle leads too tremendous dissatisfaction, anxiety, and eventually crisis!
The obsessive personality is often troubled, and rarely satisfied.
Obsessive people often being particularly individual, competitive, and rigid, and constantly driving themselves onwards. By its very nature obssesionality places people into a vicious
cycle of potential destruction.
The nooses of frustration, anxiety and despair, are increasingly drawn taught around their necks. They become haunted by the ghosts of the past, present,and even future failures.
The obsessive person’s attitude to life, and the very notion of it, needs altering.
When this is correctly done the daily tasks of living, can be carried out with a much greater sense of ease. Aspects of everyday living such as working,socializing,and,yes,even relaxing,
cause little trauma.
An ease of approach too living must be achieved. Once achieved, the sufferer can contribute and become a normal, well adjusted person.
The idea of life may seem exciting, romantic,and full of endless possibilities as indeed it is! To the obsessive personality this can be problematic. Their lives need too be fine tuned
until the nuts and bolts all fit snugly together, and can, will,and do support the individual as a whole.
If the obsessional personality insists on super - imposing his nature on society, his ship will run aground.
His ship for years has been carrying a cargo of obsessive junk. This cargo is loaded time and again, into the hold, with the usual labels attached, the ship then sets sail, only to head right into trouble once again.
Obsessive personalities tend to strive for ownership, of all that life, and living contain. They get caught up in their own whirlwind and the ship goes down again!
The obsessive persons plight can be aggravated, on more so than by an acute awareness of mortality.
The fear of death strikes deep onto the persons very being. Now he can’t do, and be all he wants to be, but is now aware he has, a limited time to achieve it in, PANIC.
If the individual feels the full weight of this there exists the perfect recipe for a crippling anxiety, depressive disorder.
Catch twenty two of course, failure...panic...try harder...do more...run...rigidity..Failure..Panic...the ship goes down again.
Life is a journey, we all, travel, some, first class others not. The traveling of that path can be harsh on the obsessive personality, even hazardous. Especially as he is traveling the road at break neck speed without a map.
The only destination along this road has already been "felt”, the end of the line, death.
His lacks of a map causing him too miss most of the pleasurable parts along the way!
Western society with its ill defined code of conduct, its ambiguous spiritual paths, and ill defined work ethic, can add to the woes.
Notions of work hard and reap the rewards, or, if at first you don’t succeed, come readily too mind.
This may be fine for some, but the obsessive always takes such ideas to the extreme.
Our society hardly knows itself, what is it actually offering for effort exerted? Apart from financial gain.
The obsessively motivated individual will of course lose his way.
As time passes the obsessive becomes despondent, and finds it hard to value any reward that does come his way. His nature is a driven one! What’s next, or, that’s not perfect so I accept no praise. The obsessive’s driven nature is a part of his personality, and can be held responsible
for a lot of the anxiety.
When this becomes a realization to the person, each new event that life throws up is not seen as a challenge, it becomes an experience. He sees life as an unfolding experience, made up of many parts, where each part is just, another part of the experience, and does not have any unwarranted degree of importance.
Each episode has its affect, but doesn’t get taken out of proportion. He realizes that each part is unique, but just another piece of the whole.
He now knows he must not let one part take a dominance by gripping too tightly too the rope,
he learns when too hold onto the rope,and,importantly when too let go!
With this new found knowledge, he no longer feels the need too rush, nor experience the panic or anxiety that goes with it.
The rope can now be let go of without fear of falling, as he has tamed, the demons causing him too grip so tightly.
He can finally stop, lift his head and look around. He has achieved a happier state of mind, and a more settled peaceful existence.
For once he may after a lot of soul searching, get what he really needs, rather than what he only thought he wanted. The path has been made,
a path that is right, right for him, because it is of his own making.
The westerner in Bali rants, raves, and demands too know! What’s this, who can explain that, what time does it begin, when does it end, and how long does it take?
Meanwhile the carnival procession passes right in front of his face!
The Balinese, well, they simply join in! There’s the answer to the westerners questions!
So May has an awareness day, mmhh!
STEVE THORNE.
HOW TOO TUNE YOUR DRUM-KIT.
Firstly I am going to assume your drums have two skins on them. A batter head(top) and a bottom skin.
Firstly turn the drum over and loosely do up the bottom head, working diagonally across the drum, from tuning rod to tuning rod. Place two or three fingers in the centre of the drum and push down lightly.
From here go to a tuning rod and about three centimetres in tap the skin with a stick(whilst keeping the centre pushed down) You should hear a note, this is a harmonic. Now go too the tuning rod diagonally opposite and tap and hear the harmonic.
The two harmonic notes should sound the same. If they down adjust the tuning rods until the two harmonic notes "sing"in harmony with each other.
Repeat the process for all tuning rods, working diagonally. Note the overall tension of this bottom skin should be tighter than the top skin, or batter head.
Now repeat the process on the top head,or,batter head. It’s exactly the same as for the top head, nut the skin tension will be looser than the bottom head.
The aim is to get the drum "IN TUNE" with itself. Please don’t expect to get a big sound out of a little drum, or a small sound out of a large drum.
You will notice when you strike each drum as you tune them, there will almost certainly be a ring,to the drum, lets get rid of the ring.
.
This is done by dampening the drum. There are internal dampeners, clamp on external dampeners, these I,m afraid all tend to stop the skins vibrating naturally.
Here I recommend using Gaffer tape and a felt patch, about,as big or as small in size as it takes. You wil have too experiment. A nice natural tone with little ring should emerge.
The bass drum apply the same method. Too dampen it use drum wool, or get a heavy pillow and push it against the batter head,and,hold it in place by a gaffer covered house brick.
Finally assemble your drums, and kick the bass drum pedal if you get no ring, you’re a natural, and a champion, most of us gets drums ringing. So try by making minor adjustments to decrease this ring.
Don’t get to upset if you dont get "the “perfect sound. It takes many years to get that, and after all what is it?
You will hear much arguing about methods to tune your kit, pick one method like this one and perfect it.
Thank-you for reading, stephen Thorne,5/01/2010.
"ME DAY"
Hi John's the name, had a crappy day yesterday, crook as a dog I was, threw me gut's up all day, I hate pizza.
Yeah I know I'm supposed to like it I'm young, but seriously
She will insist on giving me the wog food, salami sandwiches it was last night. Doesn't she know I am a growing boy, and I gotta like, like think of me sex life.
Even at this age I get little stiffy's they last all day, and it hurts like hell when I roll over onto it and falloff, bang aagghh shit! But what's a bloke to do what to drink and what to screw, that's another thing ,she will keep playing mental as anything,she,s the only thing mental at our place.
Got a brother, BASTARD,keeps punching me, and I'm too small to defend me-self, besides I can't reach.
Yeah like, I know I swear a lot for a kid but that's the old fellas fault,yer know twelfth generation Aussie or some such bullshit. Not even me aboriginal mates are that old, they get called foetal,dunno why?
Bored, bored, might go and sleep upside down in me bed, I usually fall asleep that way.
Think I got asmaaa, at least that's what the old fella keeps telling me gran. They never ask me, besides me stiffy gives me
more gipp.
Going to the doctors ,AGAIN,tomorrow, another check up, she's drop dead geourgeous,but asks mum more questions than me. "How are you feeling Mrs Barththolomew? Are you sleeping well"? Christ it's my check up.
Oh yeah that's me name Bartholmew,no not like Bart,it,s my Surname. My first name, or Christian name, so I am told, is Simon. How come I don't get to pick my own religion?
If I did I would start me own up, wonder how old you have to be to do that,I,d call it, the sect of Nintendo! How cool's that.
How come the other kids say everything's cool all the time, cause clearly if it's cool its good and, got to be hot, so how can it be cool, and hot at the same time, DUMB.
I won't grow into a normal kid; it's boring, not cool at all, how hot is that.
This life stuff don't come easy I can see that, so I might make them wait another three or maybe four weeks I think, haven't decided yet.
Besides there's NO WAY I will ever fit through an opening that size.
I reckon birth sucks, not cool at all,bugger it's hot in here, must be T.V aerobics again,I,m going to be sick.
SIMON BARTHOLOMEW,0/0/0
Hi John's the name, had a crappy day yesterday, crook as a dog I was, threw me gut's up all day, I hate pizza.
Yeah I know I'm supposed to like it I'm young, but seriously
She will insist on giving me the wog food, salami sandwiches it was last night. Doesn't she know I am a growing boy, and I gotta like, like think of me sex life.
Even at this age I get little stiffy's they last all day, and it hurts like hell when I roll over onto it and falloff, bang aagghh shit! But what's a bloke to do what to drink and what to screw, that's another thing ,she will keep playing mental as anything,she,s the only thing mental at our place.
Got a brother, BASTARD,keeps punching me, and I'm too small to defend me-self, besides I can't reach.
Yeah like, I know I swear a lot for a kid but that's the old fellas fault,yer know twelfth generation Aussie or some such bullshit. Not even me aboriginal mates are that old, they get called foetal,dunno why?
Bored, bored, might go and sleep upside down in me bed, I usually fall asleep that way.
Think I got asmaaa, at least that's what the old fella keeps telling me gran. They never ask me, besides me stiffy gives me
more gipp.
Going to the doctors ,AGAIN,tomorrow, another check up, she's drop dead geourgeous,but asks mum more questions than me. "How are you feeling Mrs Barththolomew? Are you sleeping well"? Christ it's my check up.
Oh yeah that's me name Bartholmew,no not like Bart,it,s my Surname. My first name, or Christian name, so I am told, is Simon. How come I don't get to pick my own religion?
If I did I would start me own up, wonder how old you have to be to do that,I,d call it, the sect of Nintendo! How cool's that.
How come the other kids say everything's cool all the time, cause clearly if it's cool its good and, got to be hot, so how can it be cool, and hot at the same time, DUMB.
I won't grow into a normal kid; it's boring, not cool at all, how hot is that.
This life stuff don't come easy I can see that, so I might make them wait another three or maybe four weeks I think, haven't decided yet.
Besides there's NO WAY I will ever fit through an opening that size.
I reckon birth sucks, not cool at all,bugger it's hot in here, must be T.V aerobics again,I,m going to be sick.
SIMON BARTHOLOMEW,0/0/0
