Wildewire

MANY years ago, something unusual caught my eye in a shop. It was a timepiece which used ball bearings and pivoted chutes to tell the time. I was intrigued but the shop was closed and it was in a place I happened to be visiting but didn't expect to revisit any time soon. I kept an eye out for it but it was a few years later before I found it again.  I have a bit of a trait in that; whilst I'm not particularly interested in amassing physical stuff I will sometimes get it into my head that possessing a particular thing is somehow important. I had it about my 'om' ring and it happened over this clock. When I eventually had the cash and opportunity to buy the clock I could no longer find the one I originally saw, which was made from blue plastic and, I think, wider than the one I eventually purchased. I remember being very pleased to have finally acquired the piece, but I think I elected to have it in my bedroom which proved a mistake: when the hours (in particular) change,

I rarely do anything out of my usual routine for Christmas. I don't eat meat (fish sometimes), I don't like getting stuffed full of food anyway, I am single, childless and try my best to avoid being invited to 'Christmas celebrations' with well meaning friends who erroneously imagine me pining away like Johnny Nomates. Hmmm... it is true that I often get pangs of boyfriendlessness around this time of year, but it is what it is. In fact I am a bit of a coward: Christmas gatherings too often hide tensions which are released by excess alcohol etc. My lodger will be spending at least a few days with his father so as long as I could count on a supply of festive greens, I expected to be content. In 2022 I expect to be caring for a foster child- that will be different: I've always said that if I had a kid to look after I would go all out to make Christmas and New Year as magical as I could. There was talk that my friend who has been experiencing a brutal divorce for almost

Grrrr! My fostering plans have been postponed because the police still haven't started to process my DBS application and the fostering panel won't see anyone who has not been through that check. The good news is that my lodger has said 'yes' to a flat in the centre of the city- close to the place I rented before I moved here. The bad news (sort of) is that the place is to be renovated before he will move into it and he doesn't know when that will be- "in the new year". As I now won't face the fostering panel until a couple of days after my birthday in January, at least I will be getting some rental income for a while which will be very handy.  After the song and dance to get started as an 'Approved Landlord' I admit I expected something to happen to put me off my more than six month process to become a foster carer. LOL and social services wonder why people are put off from fostering. I suspect that the administration is more onerous than looki

I have adopted a "watching" brief reguarding the Gay groups to which I have belonged. This was prompted by their indifference to the murder of George Floyd and the resurgence of Black Lives Matter and their dismissal of my requests to address ethnicity in their activities. In the case of the Fae, an argument with their defacto leader precipitated an instant withdrawal, with ECC it has been more gradual as I realised how little they've developed in over thirty years. Today, I found myself 'liking' a FB post about Botswana's government rejecting an attempt to recriminalise LGBTQ relationships. I was shocked to then find that not only was it on the Fae page, but it had been posted by its 'High Priest'(sic) himself. I thought about it briefly before un-liking the post. I have noticed that few of the couple of thousand members ever participate in the FB group, part of me did not want it to seem more interesting that it is (LOL). I just did not want to conne

   A couple of months ago,  I wrote about "drifting"; it was a feeling that my days were morphing into one another without the sense of achievement to which I have grown accustomed when I have been employed. Not a HUGE amount has changed since then, I suppose that I am quietly accepting a lower set of expectations for myself.  I've had the last pre-selection  session with my supervising social worker before an online 'panel' where they will interview me and review paperwork etc. I hope there will be no issues- my run-in with the potty- mouthed woman in 2015 that led to ME getting fined for calling her a "Fat Slag" has been mentioned. I suspect nothing will come of it as it was a six month suspended sentence so has been vacated long ago. There are things about interacting with public sector agencies that are immensely frustrating when their actions are held up to even basic 'common sense'; individual operatives fear deviation from rules and procee

Most of the 'training' so far has been reflective: I've been asked to describe circles of contacts, relationships, sources of support etc. I've noticed a strong emphasis on 'family histories' which I found a little uncomfortable- not because I don't really want to talk about it- which I don't, but more because there seemed to be an unrealistic emphasis on what I said about my family relationships. I resist this. I am happy with my decisions to distance myself from my birth family. I reject the bullshit that says that you have to love/respect your biological family- not if they're knackers you don't! I've made my own family! OK so, moving to Newcastle has reduced the number of people on whom I know I can unequivocally call, but that is better than the death by a thousand financial cuts I was experiencing from my mother and brothers before I disappeared to Newcastle, (it was a year before I contacted my mother to tell her I had moved out of Lon

  A drunk friend contacted me last week. He'd called me when I had visitors and I'd sent him a message explaining why I hadn't been able to converse. We ended up speaking for a couple of hours! We've had an on/off relationship in part because of our different backgrounds but similar creative and professional aims. It turned out that it had been a traumatic couple of weeks for him with three or four people he knows having died. He had decided to contact people with whom he doesn't have a lot of contact to let them know his feelings for them. He ended up inviting me to see a performance at the end of a rehearsal period for a piece of dance he'd been choreographing. I've got a collection of music on 'Spotify' I call 'Choreography' as I see complete dance pieces when I listen to them. I'd shared the collection with him last year and he'd used a couple of pieces in the dance. I got to the venue and encountered a couple of people who were a

  A drunk friend contacted me last week. He'd called me when I had visitors and I'd sent him a message explaining why I hadn't been able to converse. We ended up speaking for a couple of hours! We've had an on/off relationship in part because of our different backgrounds but similar creative and professional aims. It turned out that it had been a traumatic couple of weeks for him with three or four people he knows having died. He had decided to contact people with whom he doesn't have a lot of contact to let them know his feelings for them. He ended up inviting me to see a performance at the end of a rehearsal period for a piece of dance he'd been choreographing. I've got a collection of music on 'Spotify' I call 'Choreography' as I see complete dance pieces when I listen to them. I'd shared the collection with him last year and he'd used a couple of pieces in the dance. I got to the venue and encountered a couple of people who were a

[ Pic: Black Gay Group, Gay's the Word, 1980s] It really interests me how little impact the global response to the murder of George Floyed and the subsequent resurgence in Black Lives Matter seems to have affected or impacted the LGBTQ groups and organisations with which I have been involved. I fell out with the 'High Priest' of the 'Albion Faeries' when I tried to initiate conversation about this. After I left I noticed that the ill-judged and poorly-maintained Facebook page 'Faeries of Colour' wherein the 'heated debate' occured was taken down completely. The fact that I realised that I'd made about 80% of the contributions to the page and removed them all in a fit of pique may have contributed to that. Eighteen months later, those groups are still untroubled by racial discussions. I shuddered when the implications of that hit me: At one level; I felt asked to prioritise my sexuality over my ethnicity and I realised how far I've been prepar

I miss my hair! I've been shaving my head since the early 1990s when I noticed that my extensions were affecting my scalp! I never expected that to become permanent, but when I decided to start growing my hair again, it wouldn't. I'd had a good run, though: "Hair that moves, always grooves!" I remember that the same week I shaved my head, a Channel 4 discussion programme in which I had taken part: "Doing it with You Is Taboo" was broadcast. It did seem a little like I had changed my appearance so as not to be identified which was a little sad as one of the points I'd made in the show was that I was happy to be identified as a Black, Gay Man on behalf of people who could not. Nevertheless, I was somewhere in North London one day when a Black guy approached me and thanked me for being on the show, he'd recognised me even without the Barnet. The first time I shaved my head I didn't do it very well and travelled to work with an isosceles triangle

I like dance, a lot! I remember watching early episodes of 'Strictly Come Dancing' but ditching it when I felt it became too much of (just) a gimmick. The show has become immensely popular in the sixteen or so years since it started but I haven't been drawn back to it until they began to discuss same sex couples. Unsurprisingly, there was the inevitable 'Backlash' from pearl-clutching phobics frothing at the mouth about 'morals', 'protecting children', 'family show' and the usual bollocks they always spout at moments like that. I think it has been a couple of years at least since same sex couples were proposed for the show, this season it happened. I was relieved that it was a couple of men: too often when they start this kind of thing it is with women; two women have always been more 'acceptable'/titilating than two men. So I decided to watch the current season. The two men, a Black South African and a white Brit have been doing very

  The safest response, in terms of my sanity, would be to laugh... So, I was contacted by a friend a couple of weeks ago, asking me if I was involved in the 'cultural archive project' to which she'd been asked to contribute. I knew nothing and reminded her of my persona non grata status among the creative elite of Newcastle. She insisted and sent me some information. I saw that all of the people and organisations who seemed to be leading this project were women. I told her I really wasn't bothered about not having been involved. My friend drew my attention to the fact that the project had been initiated last September to run for a year. She was annoyed that they could have done almost a year's work about minority ethnic arts development and not contacted the organisation that was set up to develop that sector... ... With some reluctance, I accepted her prompt and recieved a missive from one of the organisers with whom I had worked when I ran Intercultural Arts. We

The friend/bubble-mate with whom I fell out some time ago has now fallen out with our other friend so is not coming to our green day gatherings. It is interesting as the week before this latest 'crisisette' they acted oddly in my opinion right from the moment they arrived. -Strangely demanding I mean more than usual and as dismissive as a feudal ruler. I found it so odd that I was quiet for most of the visit. -'the problem with them' is that they live in a world in which they are rarely challenged by the people around them- family and friends. They have a reputation for explosive reactions that has taught most people that it is easier to pretend to give in to them rather than challenge their madness. Their own children rarely share anything of import with them because they can never count on them to respond like an average adult might. The precipitation of this latest issue comes from our friend's regular visit to their home most Tuesdays. It is an expected and habi

  A lot can happen in two weeks, and it did. It is ironic that when my life becomes hectic or a bit exciting I rarely find time to write about it. My last post was about the fostering training I've started, but last week one of the lads who has been lodging with me 'absconded' so I will start my catch up posts with that. At 19yrs old, the lad is legally an adult and doesn't have to be 'looked after' by the local authority- at least in principle, except that he became a 'failed asylum-seeker' whilst lodging with me. Social workers and me ran around like crazy things trying to understand the Byzantine machinations of the Home Office and were eventually assured that there would be no dawn raids to take this 19yr old to a detention centre- UNLESS he got into any trouble, in which case the process to deport him would be accelerated and he would forfeit the cash sweetener he would have been offered when 'invited' to leave, it apparently costs thousands

I was a little cynical about the 'pre-selection foster carer training' I was signed up for before I did it last week. I had already done what I was told was 5/6ths of it when I became an Approved Landlord for Care-Leavers in 2019. I was also getting over a cold from the week before AND I was concerned that I'd have difficulty getting to the place by public transport. In the event, the trip was easy-enough and the council building jumped out of the scenery when I got to Byker Village. I got there early on the first day and the receptionist didn't know anything about it and tried to send me away. I was polite but terse and told her I would not leave but that I would wait until it was nearer to the start time. In the end I found the right place and found that there was just one otherwould-be forster carer to take part. I was embarrassed about my head-cold: I was producing excessive amounts of phlegm and went through tens of tissues. Anyway... I have to say that I got a LOT

I am forever grateful to an ex partner who introduced me to 'retreat-style' holidays with gay men in my late twenties. I hid my  scepticism  - born   smirks at the idea of a load of gay men together in some Scottish mansion fir ten days as I'd never experienced a gay gathering where shagging wasn't the main or ultimate aim of the encounter. I think I was the only Black man out of a group of sixty, but I was curious and excited enough not to dwell on it. I was so used to it by that time that noticing other Black men at events etc was a thing to acknowledge. I was also one of the younger men there and automatic but polite defences were up.  in the event I was pleasantly surprised by how unlike my minor dread it actually was. Sex was certainly 'on the menu' so to speak; but it was certainly not the main course. I was hooked on the exploration of  strategies for existing as a true self in a society which was actively hostile to us achieving anything that could be co

Finally! My lodger surprised me on Friday by announcing that he had decided that [what he had been advised when his situation was changed] is his best option. Being a 'yoof' of course; it was presented as if it was something he had come up with on his own, but that didn't matter as the important thing is that he will remain in a place where he will be supported, it will give him chances to learn construction courses at the college he is attending so that when/if the time comes for him to be 'invited to leave', he will have qualifications and certificates that should help him find employment when he is returned. There is also the added point that having a portfolio of achievements could help him make a last ditch appeal to stay. I almost hugges the little bugger. Of course, nothing goes smoothly and getting him re-registered at the college has been a bit of a nightmare, mainly because of doubts over his status. Luckily, the vagueries of Home Office policies and proce

I find myself struggling against just letting my days pass by! This whole week has felt like... nothing. I am finding it hard not to be doing stuff- not to have goals to which I am working, I think I might even be missing deadlines! I have friends who have not worked for years mainly due to health issues, they find my discomfort amusing. I am not used to getting things 'for nothing' though I reflect on the amount I have paid into 'the system' as tax which does soften the blow slightly. I have several "writing projects"  for which I've had some enthusiasm in the past but I haven't been able to get into the right frame of mind to revisit them. Part of this is about the effort I've put into finding employment with infuriating results. It is also about the fact that I will be doing 'Fostering Preparation Training' towards the time when the older of my two lodgers leaves by the end of the year. I am committed to making the most committed 'go

I'm a bit surprised after the year we've had that this hasn't happened before: on Friday; I had decided I was going to complete and send off an job application I've been considering... In itself that is a strange thing for me to be doing as I intend to be accepted into fostering in a month or so. Part of it is an innate self preservatory sense of a 'Plan B' and its also to do with habit: it feels strange not having something administrative to strive for. Anyway: once I looked into the application, I found a couple of acronyms I had to look up. They were obvious parts of venue management which any manager would do as a matter of course, but have become areas of study in their own right with attached certification. I was becoming more irritated as a progressed because OF COURSE I had 'experience' of PEEPs, for example I could not produce a piece of paper proving that claim. Experience has taught me that I can have 100% of what is requested in a job applica

Further discussion with my lodger revealed nihilistic depression as the root of his London-bound wish. He is no longer interested in following the route suggested by the social workers mainly because he is convinced that returning to his country with certificates and quaifications won't have a positive impact on his prospects when he is returned 'home'. He talks of how WHO you know will get you a job much more easily than through waving pieces of paper about. I am very inclined to believe him. Instead, he wants to earn as much money as possible so that he will have something on which he will be able to rely in his first months after repatriation. He wants to amass as much cash as possible before he is forced to leave. There are inherent problems with his plan because of his status and, although he has been told he can get highly paid labouring work in London: talk is cheap and doesn't always become action; and living in London is more expensive than living in Newcastle.

C ommunicating with younger people  is sometimes... difficult ! They're polite but not listening! I'd thought that the younger of my lodgers who has been refused asylum in UK, understood the SEVERAL times both me and his social worker have spoken to him about what is potentially possible for him in the time he has before the Home Office gets around to 'invite' him to leave the country. In short: he has been encouraged to stay at college, to get as much training and as many qualifications as he can for two reasons: 1. He will have a final chance to show the Home Office how much of an asset he has been and could continue to be if allowed to stay (it HAS happened before!). 2. If he is returned to his home country he will be 'worth more' as a trained and qualified person. He spent a few days in London and returned lat last night full of how amazing the city is, about how MUCH there is there and how he'd experienced communities from his homeland. In typical youth