Ordinary People

Ordinary People

Please click on the title to see a PDF of the song.

The Refugee Crisis

1.

Ordinary people who don’t have a life
Ordinary people who don’t have a voice
Leaving Iraq, leaving Iran
Leaving Syria, Afganistan

Chorus
And they’re coming to Europe
And they’re coming to Europe

2.
Ordinary people who cross land and sea
Ordinary people who want to be free
Escaping guns, escaping bombs
Bread and water, freedom songs

3.
700 people The frightened refugee
700 people who drown in the sea
Fanily photos, left them behind
Fleeing gunmen, step on a mine

Chorus

4.
Ordinary people, cannot reach their goal
Ordinary people, left in the cold
Water cannon, border control
Those politicians don’t have a soul

Chorus

 

 

 

I Want to Heal You

i want to heal you

Please click on title to see a PDF of the song sheet

Lyrics

I want to heal you, to take away the pain
I want to heal you, you’ll be happy once again
I love you when you’re happy, I hate it when you’re sad
I hope you will recover from the problems that you’ve had
I want to heal you and I hope you want to heal me too

2.
I want to heal you, to get you on your feet
I want to heal you so you can take your rightful seat
I’m glad when you are working, trying to do your best
I hate it when they hurt you and put you to the treat
I want to heal you and I hope you want to heal me too

3.
I want to heal you, to help you put things right
I want to heal you, to help you win the fight
I love you when you’re free and looking at the sky
I hate it when you’re broken without your human right
I want to heal you and I hope you want to heal me too

 

The Bombing

20180827_151530-1

In this painting, the adults are moving about like heavy metal rock stars kicking up mayhem on a stage only instead of carrying guitars they are carrying children. This from from a photo in a newspaper of the bombing of a mental hospital during the Lebanese war.

Bloxwich Coal Mine

I grew up on a housing estate near Bloxwich. Not far away from the estate was a disused coal mine with a railway, and a huge slag heap where I used to go exploring, hoping not to get caught by any caretaker. I did a sketch, and I tried to turn it into something to impress the tutors at Walsall School of Art in Goodall street. It did not get any further than sketchbook work

 

The Miner’s Family

john briscoe from Cannock
John Briscoe from Cannock
Ted Bet and Tone-1.jpg
Tony, Ted and Betty

John Briscoe came from a large mining family and they lived in Cannock. Three of his brothers usually referred to as Ted, Bet and Tone are in this painting. They were sadly born mentally backward as I was always told. They lived in a row of houses I believe was built by the mine owners for their workers. They were old and negleted houses, dark and dusty. Johns father died of cancer, I saw him lieing on his bed in the small living room, I saw him in there, one side of his body was turning blue. John was overcome by grief but could not face it and he got a group of us from Art school to go to Paris with him hoping to forget his troubles, his father died around this time but John was stoical about it. This is not the end of the Briscoe tragedy. His mother died of breast cancer and his three brothers, Ted Bet and Tone had no one to care for them. Once at the bus station in Walsall I saw one of the brothers walking by in the night, angry looking and alone.

John was a brilliant artist. He was the talk of Walsall art school, flambouyant and full of life. His art work was creative and effortlessly brilliant. He could turn his gift for creativity from sculpture to pottery at ease. But he had an accident on e day and stabbed himeself in the eye, and lost his sight in that eye. This fault of all his tradgedy I firmly place on the neglect of the coal mining owners in Cannock who didn’t seem to do anything to help this poor, poor family. There were two other children one Tom Briscoe who got married, and the oldest who I only heard about by heresay.

Paul and the Sheep’s Skull

 

Paul Lozinsky. portrait drawing
Paul Lozinsky, portrait drawing
skull and waistcoat.jpg
Skull and waistcoat
paul lozinsky
Paul Lozinsky sitting
20180827_160846-1
Sheep’s skull and ewer

These are some of the Drawings in pastel and oil wash I did of my flat mate Paul. Paul was from Manchester or Salford. He had completed a Degree in art at Wolverhampton University. His room in the flat was completely taken over to his art.

paul
Paul and brother

Paul’s twin brother came to visit him. His brother wears glasses, while Paul favoured contact lenses. They were in Pauls studio/flat when I took this photo.

The sheep’s skull belonged to Paul and I would borrow it from time to time to make a drawing. Among the pictures on his wall you can see one of his own drawings of it. He apparently found it in a field presumably somewhere near his home place of Manchester or Salford.

Cheri, an American in Whitechapel (#1)

 

 

These are oil paintings and oil pastels I made of Cheri. I bumped into her in a bar in Whitechapel and we became friends. She was an American living in Romford Street, Whitechapel, east London. Also an artist, we put up an shared exhibition in her flat and everyone came. She of course had a siamese cat.

She once insisted that I spell her name right. It’s not Sherry, or Cherry but Cheri.

studies of Cherie
Studies of Cheri

 

Post impressions

 

To explain. I began with an idea of making a clay head from one of Vincent Van Gogh’s portraits. But then it seemed to develop a life of its own. I added a cloth and a wooden crate as a pedestal than I made a series of drawings from the sculpture because the sculpture was so vulnerable to destruction.

The White Dove of Peace

 

20180827_150352-1
White dove of peace

 

Made by drawing experimental criss crossing curvy lines and then looking for things. This became “White dove of peace; lord of the jungle”


Poet Monkey:

The white dove of peace is King of the jungle

High in the canopy she judges the beasts.

Narrator:

The white dove of peace can call herself a king if she so desires and who can change her mind. I am down in the jungle and it is teeming with wild beasts. The white dove of peace sits high above us all spreading her wings and singing.

Poet Monkey:

The bad dreams have ended but my legs are still asleep

I need to be comforted by the white dove of peace.

Narrator:

One beast is suffering from nightmares and on waking up feels paralyzed. So, he calls to the white dove of peace for help. She sings to him and drives the terrors out of his heart.


 

 

 

 

This became, “Prehistoric man with a herd of animals”

This though was “A home for super hero’s”.

A Fragile Mind

"All my life's buried here, heap earth upon it"

Mental Health @ Home

Building mental wellness on a foundation of strength

1800PetsAndVets®

LOVE YOUR PET™

Blog Site of Gabriele R.

Post, news, diary... All the world around me, ALL THE WORDS AROUND YOU

wake up and smell the humans

The website of Sean Crawley

bongdoogle doodles

'The contemporary art work of m.caimbeul’

The PROG Mind

Delve Deeper

Lady Jane Grey Revisited

Iconography of Lady Jane Grey

Bag Full of Rocks

My rocks are the memories from different adventures. I thought I would just leave this bag here.

Relatos desde mi ventana

Sentimientos, emociones y reflexiones

Thinking Chitalia

As opposed to a “not thinking chitalia”

.*♥**♥*★ *♥*..*♥*. BERNARD *♥**♥*★ *♥*..*♥*.

♥♥ ♥♥ MES PLUS BEAUX BISOUS D'AMITIES A VOUS ♥♥ ♥♥

AuAu Over

Storytelling Notes Blog

a.mermaid'spen_

Be careful, I might convince you.. You are art.✨

Naked on the inside

Writing like no one will read it.

%d bloggers like this: