A final post for the day. A shot from one of the old Stage Door Sessions. A little bit of blues from a world travelling musician. Somehow the hallucinogens have made their way into the digitisation process - forever capturing their strange visual effects. The memory of the substances involved long since burnt from the brain, we are now left with only this less than gentle reminder of this night.
Only one lasting memory of this night now remains. That of my then house mates, uneducated surety that the tubes ran from Waterloo until well after midnight. Their stubborn resolution resulting in a long and for the girls high-heeled walk through a cold, unfriendly London night.
So I thought that I would just stick this up somewhere. This is a picture of the room I stayed in on Business in Mastricht last year.
A final post for the day. A shot from one of the old Stage Door Sessions. A little bit of blues from a world travelling musician. Somehow the hallucinogens have made their way into the digitisation process - forever capturing their strange visual effects. The memory of the substances involved long since burnt from the brain, we are now left with only this less than gentle reminder of this night. 
So here is a somewhat disturbed youth and his lemonade, disturbed by the insane behaviour of his travelling compatriot above. Amsterdam - outside the window - the streets below are filled with the "cummings" and goings of the many visitors to her red-light district.
I post this to my blog as a reminder of perfect days with important friends. My London's summers, her concerts, pints, travellers and music out last her cold, grey, hopeless weather. Above you see the pictures of a sutable innebreate crew of Souther Hemispherian concert goers, packed into Hyde Park this summer with 85 000 others. GT's
