Stormcellar Band Home Page

Late show, this Friday. 2nd June, Town Hall Hotel, Newtown, with Lola Sola :-)

I actually saw Alpha Centuari and Proxima Centauri (i think) sparkling like two little live diamond creatures.

That. Was. Epic.

O Captain, my captain.

The Fast Stream of our social media caught the journey - I have found a way to integrate. Standby. Soon.

Meanwhile.

We did a lot.

Our very good friend ML came, unexpectedly, to record. The recordings are quite remarkable already.

It's a long, involved, drawn out tale, full of detail and fan boyness about gear we used from latvia.

But we're all heroically buggered because it was a long trip and an intense session.

I saw Saturn. Jupiter. Bumped the telescope. I saw the emu and the hunter. 

They kept score of shooting stars.

Jo was in gluten free heaven. It was dark.

We have a gig this week. I have stuff to share and stuff to make, we recorded new stuff.

This is a pic Rosie took.

We're also bummed about Greg Allman. It's a strange world, but I guess I can also say I've now had a look at actual strange worlds.

It's funny to think Sydney used to be that dark they had an observatory.

what do we lose of ourselves when we cannot see the night sky?

Through a massive telescope??? lol.

Thank you to Gary and Merrill.

Once I recharge I'll add some pics, or go to our facebook until I get it integrated.

After pausing for a moment, doing a few things to reflect, it's time for us to keep doing stuff.

This weekend we're proceeding to Coonabarrabran and we're going to do some stuff. I'm considering streaming some of it live.

I'll be posting pics and vids as we do it. We'll be under one of the darkest skies in the southern hemisphere. We will write, record and jam on the ideas and vibes we pick up, and how we're feeling.

If you want to take a break from the hard stuff around you, join us. I'll be posting to FB/Youtube or whatever I figure out. I'll list the details here as we figure them out.

On Friday, we drive 6 hours inland, we look at the stars, we dream. On Saturday we write, record and play, into a cold night. Maybe outside. Maybe inside.

Join us if you feel like it.

I am listening to a new song from Bill, it's very frickin' soothing. I've got sunlight around me, and a prism on my window is splitting light into patches.

We live perpetual warfare. It's life during war time. 

Sadness, and then guilt for taking a moment to feel happy.

A repeated refrain, a lesson I learned; those in combat want life to go on, they want to know that normal still exists.

The constant stream of violence by human against human is crushing.

This is the human puzzle to solve, not a religious or political or ideological problem, the simple human cycle of hurting one another.

No I haven't gone hippy and mung bean. I accept that we're going to do things that we think are right, for the right reasons, and they will be terrible things.

But don't you think the other side thinks the same?

Are we all mad?

Our heart breaks and mends again and again, from Bataclan to Manchester, for the day to day sadness of losing our mentors, our heroes, our friends and family, and our hope.

And each time, each day, the sun comes up, the clouds blow over. We suffer in the midst of beauty and it makes me weep.

Every quiet moment of solitude, every moment of awareness and gratitude pushes back against that dark envelope.

I have no response except to try and keep making things. Creation against destruction.

We're sad about Manchester.

Do we live in perpetual warfare

With the other to blame

One so justified

None so right

Absent of consciousness

Hurting, ourselves

What is the last thought

Of each one

But for a moment’s passage

From hate to love

And we who are left behind

Are without explanation

To marvel

That such awfulness

is within.