Good to see you, Sun.

I was on the train on the way home from a lovely; though slightly cold busk from the Eisenachy.  I had a pocketful of geld and had made some nice connections with people who sat and listened for most of my set.  I looked up at the mini TVs which show the weather for the next few days and burst out laughing when it said it was going to be 15 degrees on Sunday!  I laughed and smiled to myself all the way home.

The next day on Saturday I woke up at 06.30 with the smile still on my face and such an excitement to feel the first warm day of the year. I was so ready for it.  I perused the second hand shops that day and found me a lovely suit for 15 euroes and almost felt like burning my winter coat as a show of readiness for the spring. I did a little busk in the evening and looking suave and feeling good; I went to see a great band at artliners.

It wasn’t just that the gig was great, and that I met some lovely people; it was the fact I didn’t wear my coat and went on the S-Bahn drinking a beer and the ritual of the summer was starting to re-emerge.  It was a slightly wet night, but still quite warm.  I was so happy!  Just being outside and your body not tensing up and shivering was such a blessing.

The next day on Sunday I woke up and looked out the window to see beautiful blue skies and fluffy white clouds.  I jumped out of bed, made me a coffee whilst singing and smiling and knowing there was only one place where I would be going today – Mauer Park.  First I would have a little mooch around the Flea Market in Steglitz looking for a pair of shoes.  Most of the stalls have lots of cheap second-hand shoes, but there were none that suited, so I ate a little toast and with a hot sun on my face, I drunk my first beer at around half eleven and headed North East.

It was bliss.  I went to my usual spaty and got me a Staropramen and slowly wondered around the park hoping to find some nice music.  There were the usual Mauer ensembles but nothing took my fancy so I had a little look through the markets.  Most of the ground was muddy and waterlogged so I took a sharp turn and headed back to the park.  A big grey cloud had just appeared and suddenly the sparkle that brightens everything and makes things shine had disappeared and things looked grey and muddy.

Sirens burst into my ears as two police cars rushed through the park and so I followed them to see what the show was.  It was an arrest of a black dealer who – I don’t know if he was trying to get in the car or out, but there was a struggle and one policeman got his truncheon out, put it around his neck and hand-cuffed him.  It was a slightly dark moment that ruined the magic and memory of Mauer park but not long after that the sun re-emerged and I took a seat on these rectangular stones.

Here I met a lovely lady called Simone and we talked for over an hour about the need for this first sunny day after the winter and the highs and lows of Berlin.  It was a very nice moment and then her friends joined and we drank a beer and then parted ways.  I meandered on mixing with many different people, sharing a joint, listening to the music chatting away.  After 8 hours of being outside and soaking up a lot of vitamin D, I went to my favourite Doner place and treated myself to a large one.  

It was just so wonderful to feel the sun and remember what it is like in the spring and summer here.  The winter is a hard challenge as a street musician, to go out and busk when the wind and rain is blowing the trees sideways takes a lot of guts.  But, I did it.  I got through the winter and now I can appreciate the light and sunshine at the end of the dark tunnel of winter in this beautiful city. Prost!

Day By Day

I had my first busk on Saturday.  Armed with the two new songs, I set out for an hour or so.  I still can’t put a shoe on the foot, so was hobbling along with one slipper on.  There was someone at my usual spot so I went to the quiet side of Eisenacher and just had a little warm up.  I only played the 2 new songs, just to practise them and imprint them.  It is OK learning them at home, but playing them while busking requires a little lubricational practise.  After half an hour I went to my usual spot and had a lovely busk.

I found that I couldn’t play my usual set.  Because of the detox, the voice had lost its gravel and I was singing a little cleaner than usual, but it fitted the new songs perfectly.  So after an hour and a nice pocketful o’ geld I went home.  That’s when the pain truly set it, the scab had all come off in the slipper and sock and so I had to spend the next day with my foot up just letting it reform, but it was worth it.  I had not one coin to my name, and not having any geld can sometimes make you feel a little down.

On this my 6^th year of being a busker and drifter I feel I have settled down a little to the lifestyle.  At the start it was so exciting, going from moment to moment, couch to couch, day to day. But now, even though my life is still exciting and more adventurous than most, I have adapted very well to it.  I make a good living, have many places where I can stay, many friends and acquaintances and a good life as a musician.  Perhaps that is why I stopped writing on my old blog, because I feel I have reached the next level.

I have the freedom to do whatever I want, go wherever I wish at the drop of a hat.  But I’m not leaving Berlin for a while yet.  It would be so silly to throw away all the good work and progress I am making here.  This city has really brought out the best in me, and I have given it my best. Last night I also ate my first Doner in 2 weeks, and it didn’t taste or feel that good to be honest.  I have gotten used to good home cooked food again.  I have also gotten used to how clear my thoughts have become from not drinking. So I think, after this recovery, you will see a slightly different Winston Freeman.

I do have good self discipline with a lot of areas in my life, but the drinking and smoking has always been incessant.  So maybe now it’s time to slow it down.  But a night out busking with a few beers and smoking is a great combo, and it’s the best night out for me.  You come home on a high and a little drunk, with a pocket full o’ geld, instead of no geld. It’s just a better high to have a drink and make music and money and enjoy yourself as opposed to just drinking and spending money and listening to music, which I also enjoy very much, and usually have a good balance.  

I am so ready for Spring. I can almost taste that first sunny day and to see and be with everyone sitting outdoors drinking a beer and playing Frisbee.  Going on big bike rides and soaking up that vitamin D.  Heading out for some adventure and seeing what the day might bring, going to Mauer Park each Sunday in the hope to see Alice Phoebe Lou.

Get On With It!!

Although it has been an immobile 2 weeks now, it has been a productive one.  Lots of white paper filled with ink, a few new songs learnt and some new ideas formulated.  A good detox from the beer and although I was sad I couldn’t venture out into the sunshine at first, I was just happy to see it after a dark winter, and even though I was bedridden – it made me feel a lot better.  I have re-found my excitement for writing on the computer again, I have bonded with the family I was becoming quite distant with, I have eaten great food and watched some great films and read a few books.  It’s been like a little holiday, but now I am itching to get back to the busking.

Two of the new songs I have learned are “Ol Man River” Which I have been listening to at least twenty times a day; I just really love that song.  And the other is “Hang me” by Dave Van Ronk, but played so perfectly by Oscar Isaac in what I think is one of my favourite films ever – “Inside LLewen Davies”. It really hits home that film, and you feel the struggle and hard ships of bleeding for your art.  A series of bad decisions and bad luck can put you in a loop of repeating the same mistakes until you keep spiralling downwards.

But I just want to say a massive thanks to my body for growing me a whole new layer of skin on my foot and to the beautiful family I stay with for looking after me so well. For someone who never gets ill or injured (touch wood) – It has been a real knock down from my perch.  But enough about my bloody foot; I hate to say how ill I am and feel weak.  Perhaps because whenever I got ill or injured as a kid I never got any sympathy from my mum, so I never felt the desire to be ill to get attention like some kids grow up to need.

I have never relied on any one in this world but myself.  My upbringing taught me to do things myself.  If you want something – go out and get it.  I never relied on people to support me. Of course, I have been helped and supported by other people in the past, but I have never taken that for granted.  I have always had a strong drive to just do things myself and as my mother says…”Get on with it!”

The Sky Has Cracked

What makes the inability to walk and venture out even more agonizing is the fact that the concrete sky has cracked and we have had such beautiful blue skies and a trickle of warmth in the sun! I feel like a dog, sadly staring out the window.  My only venture out is to the balcony to smoke and I grimace at the thought of not being able to meander through the second-hand shops and drink a coffee and do some busking.

But it is amazing to see how your body heals itself bit by bit, day by day.  I have watched the skin reform on the foot and the scab flake off; the swelling go down and the movement of toes returning.  Sometimes I neglect my body – I am too lost in my thoughts and indulgences to give it proper attention.  But an accident and recovery like this makes you realise how much your body looks after you.

When one is used to always being in motion and living at a very fast and exhilarating pace, being bed-ridden will slow you down somewhat and make you reflect on things.  I am trying to think of what the lessons are to this injury and the good sides, of which there are many.

I should concentrate more on any task I am performing.

I should not feel so proud and think that I don’t need any help.

I should look after my body a bit more.

I know what bad physical pain feels like for only the second time in my life. (I broke my leg twenty years ago.)

I shouldn’t drink so much.

I can draw people and portraits fucking good.

We are all one slip away from our day or life taking a massive turn for the worse – or better.

There are a lot more lessons as well, but they will surface the more I digest and recover from this experience.  I am planning a venture out today, though.  If I go the studio and pick up the guitar I could try a busk tomorrow. Yesterday I made it to the Spaty to buy some tobacco, which was do-able, but still hurt a bit.  But today is the last day on my train ticket so I at least want to get the last journey out of it.

After years of bunking the train here and always getting away with a fine I feel so happy to buy a ticket. It costs 60 a month and for the amount of time I spend on the trains - it is a worthy investment.  Otherwise, the journeys become fearful with paranoia trying to guess if there is a ticket inspector in plain clothes just got on, and then your stomach fluttering when the doors close and you hear them dreaded words “Farhkarten Bitte”.  I couldn’t read or focus on a book in peace, so the 60 a month is worth it for the peace of mind and ability to concentrate on what I’m reading.

My usual victuals in Berlin are – A coffee or three in the morning, followed by some Yorkshire tea - A sandwhich of cheese and bread at the stroke of afternoonish – more tea and maybe a coffee - a doner kebab or plate between a mixture of pilseners for the evenings injestion.  I found this amazing Lebanese place by Box Hagenerplatz.  It’s called Ali Baba and for 5.50 you get a huge plate full of salad, hummous, fried and roasted and seasoned schwarma and lots of other goodness.  It is the best meal in Berlin and I was eating it 5 or six times a week.

One Sunday I was going there and then discovered that they have a lovely Flea Market at Boxhangener every Sunday.  I was mooching about and saw this lovely set of old DDR speakers. I asked him how much and he tells me forty.  I wince and say “Ahhh, I only have 15 euroes on me” He goes “Ok give me 30”.  I say “I only have 15 on me”  “Ok, give me 20” I say.  “I only have 15 on me”.  “Ok give me 15”.  So after a lovely Lebanese plate I return to the studio carrying a lovely old set of speakers.  I hooked them up and they sounded delightfully DDR.

I have taken such pride and love in getting everything for the studio. Everything I have as either been found, foraged or given and bought with love.  After a good week of busking with Louis I would return with pockets full of geld and feel excited to go the markets and shops to buy lots of stuff for the place.  But the strangest thing is – when I have really needed or wanted certain things for the place, I step outside and someone has left it in the hallway.  This happened for a big display unit and a SONY amp and also a big speaker, which made a perfect decoration and nearly completed the place.  It is still a work in progress but whenever I find something, it just seems to fit in place like a perfect puzzle.  I have a great feng shui in there and a REAL coziness.

My Beauutiful studio

The best thing is – I can do whatever I want to do.  Whether it is drawing, playing piano, singing, recording or writing – I just do whatever I am in the mood for.  Not feel like I should be doing something in particular, just doing what I feel.  That is a nice feeling.   A lot of the time I just sit and truly listen to music.  Absorb it and feel it and hear it an environment where I am not bothering anyone to turn it up to eleven.  It is just as important to listen as well as to play.

My playlists have mostly been consisting of – Tom Waits, Beck, Devandra Banhart, Joanna Newsom, Fleet Foxes, Bowie, Odetta, Nina Simone, Dylan, Conor Oberst, Mark Lanegan, Bon Iver, Iron and Wine, Paul Simon, Ray Lamontagne, Sigor Ros, The Lumineers and many more in between.

I am playing the piano a lot, and am building a full set of songs that I can play and sing nicely on it.  I am really enjoying the morning coffee and smoke and then just spending hours pounding the piano.  I express myself quite freely on the keys, and enjoy playing with dynamics and melancholy to craziness and darkness.  I did the hard work of teaching myself when I was twenty, so now I am just enjoying it and expanding on that hard work I did all them years ago.

Ok, well its time for a cuppa ana smoke now.  I am enjoying the speed at which I can express my inner monologue on here, the notebook, though neat and beautiful is a little slower in its capturing the flow of your thoughts. 

It's a funny old world....

So after I returned to Berlin from a beautiful and rest-filled respite back home, a sudden depression hit me.  The initial high wore off and I felt incredibly alone.  Remembering the mindset I have to have here of being an island, a mysterious island, I touch no-one and no-one touches me type mindset. Perhaps it was the visit back home that evoked all these old feelings and memories I have.  Since I have been in Berlin I have shed my old identity and life and become a strong, but isolated person.  

 I understand I am too much for people sometimes.  The way I talk and express myself people find peculiar perhaps.  Which, I accept.  And as I feel more and more isolated from my social creatures I build a wall around me. I tell myself that I don’t care an iota if no-one understands me or likes me, I am true to myself and am who I want to be.  This takes a lot of energy and emotional willpower and maybe it was a little dose of the post-Christmas blues that stung me at the same time, but the first four days of being back here were hard.

 I sweated them out though. Just sat in the studio with the thousand yard stare and thought about my life and journey and stuff.  I went busking the day after I got back at the quiet side of Eisenacher and then the BVG stopped me and gave me a warning and expulsion and took my details.  This was another chunk out of my castle, and so I used the studio rent for December that hadn’t been picked up yet and bought myself a monthly train ticket and a busking permit for a few days.

 The weather was still hard. That concrete cloud above had yet to crack and it was grey days every day.  But I hit the busking and started to pick myself up.  It’s amazing how good a nice busk will make you feel, and equally amazing how bad a bad busk will make you feel.  But I soldiered on filling my bag with coins and paper and nice exchanges along the way.  This continued for two weeks and I was in a nice momentum.  Drinking a lot, but pushing myself.  Sometimes when you don’t really feel like singing in-front of hundreds of passing people it takes a little push.  A kindl can be the perfect push.

 So after a good week of making nearly 300 euroes, paying back the rent, pickin up a smoke I was in a great mindset; feeling good and strong.  I went to see my mate Dusty and didn’t get back the studio until like 5 or 6 am.  I got the place all nice with the bed made and lights and put the kettle on to fill my hot water bottle – which always shares my bed through each winter.  The kettle boils and I start to fill up the bottle when it drops over my foot!

 A sudden shock of pain splinters from my foot to my brain and I scream as I remove my sock.  The skin on top of the foot and toes and just dissolved like paper and all that is there is this bloody burnt flesh where the top of my foot should be.  I hop to the sink in the toilets and cock my leg to run it under water, feeling a pain I have never felt before I scream in agony.  I lay there on my bed almost crying and feeling this bad burn radiate and glow with pure pain.  I try to sleep but it isn’t easy and so I get up, manage to put a slipper on and make the ten minute walk to the supermarket.  I buy some water and candles and limp back to the studio and have to rest.

 I make the hour and a half journey home to the house of the family where I stay in Schoneberg and grind my teeth through the pain.  I couldn’t put a shoe on, so just wearing this thin slipper I see the filth on the streets and undergrounds that I try to avoid.  Spit, vomit, beer, doners.  I get to the house and tear the sock off, and with it comes the layer of skin that was reforming on the top.  I felt like Rambo when he takes that bullet out as I removed that sock.  The next day Anja went to the chemist and got me all bandages, cream, painkillers and all the necessities for getting better.  Not only this, but with their love and company and beautiful home cooked food have helped nurse me back to health again.

 I have been bed ridden for 13 days now and it has been a stark knock down from the momentum I was in at the start of the year.  It has humbled me and slowed me.  My ego has took a hit and looking back; I feel my mentality can be quite monstrous when  building a wall around myself and feeling like I don’t need anyone.  We are all a simple slip of the hand accident away from being completely bed ridden and useless.  I love to be in motion, even if it’s just riding the trains somewhere, and being completely unable to walk has been a lesson and journey in itself.

After 2 weeks

 I have used the time well though.  I always love to draw, but have only ever drew my patterns and mazes which have a nice and unique style.  But since being bed-ridden I have practised to draw people and portraits.  I have done about a hundred so far and with each one I am getting better.  The noses, eyes and ears are all forming the more I’m drawing.  Whatever you want to be good at, just practise and practise and if you love it enough you will progress.  That’s what I feel with my drawings anyway.  I am quite amazed at myself to the level I have got to in these days of injury.

 I have also had a good de-tox.  No beer. Already my thoughts are clearer, my inner-monologue articulates itself concisely and clearly and I feel good mentally, but physically walking is still a slow and painful experience.  But at least being able to walk on my heal  is a lot better than the hopping and crawling I was doing for the first 10 days.  I have also watched a lot of films and tube.  Lots of Coen Brothers films; I found this channel on youtube “The Best Film Archive”  Which has some great films from the 30s and 40s.  The past is a different country…They do things differently there.

 But anyway I’m just taking it easy and slow, and looking forward to getting back busking and band practising.  In a few days I should be able to put my shoe on again

I'm Back!

After trying a few other blogging platforms and being extremely disappointed - especially with Tumblr!  What an atrocious platform that is.  Utterly irritating.  I feel it best to continue my old blog and see it through.  It still gets so many hits and many buskers I meet here always say "Ahh, I read your blog".  So I suppose it silly to give up on it altogether.  But, at least I tried a few different sites.  But honestly, that Tumblr was awful.  Wordpress was OK, but I think I will just stick with The Dead Sea Captain.

I will post the blogs I wrote on tumblr and stuff on here just to keep a chronology.

Just like starting over.

I feel I am in the foetal stages of my re-invention and feeling great about things.  I have sacrificed my old life completely, given myself to music in search of creativity and inspiration for creation.  I feel I don´t really have the heart for this old blog anymore, so I am thinking of starting a brand new one.  I have been starting again in so many ways, I think this could be another way to rejuvinate my thoughts and rambles in to a fresh new page of a new notebook.

I feel the Dead Sea Captain and the last 5 years I have been keeping this blog has been an incredible chapter, but it is time to start a new one.  Put it behind me now, and immerse myself even more into the artist and music and stories I create.  I´m already excited by the thought, so I´m off to do that now.  Find me by googling Wintson Freeman Berlin blog.  Adios (To God)