2,201

(8 replies, posted in Chordie's Chat Corner)

A  young man and his guitar.
Meet the Kiwi who backpacked around the world solo in a wheelchair with his guitar.
Eamon Wood decided he wanted to travel  and to let go of everything he had going on... and be free.
His  original plan had been to hitchhike the more than 250 kilometres from Miami, Florida to Key West. 
But when he heard a tale of the legendary cycle trail that ran between them, he knew he was going to give it a shot. 
Since setting off on his solo backpacking journey some four months beforehand, Eamon Wood had embraced his natural tendency to throw himself headlong into the great unknown and force himself to adapt. Born in Nelson, New Zealand, Wood has been in a wheelchair since the age of four-and-a-half, when a car accident left him with permanent damage to his lower spinal cord.
Now 28, he's spent a lifetime pushing himself to his physical and mental limits; representing New Zealand in wheelchair tennis and basketball, and becoming the first person in a chair to complete an apprenticeship in engineering, helping, as he says, to "deconstruct a few roadblocks for people using wheelchairs who want to become fabricators"

So, the trail through the Keys was a comparatively easy feat. Or so he thought when he set out. 
"I love the sun, I love adventure and most of all I love to push myself physically," he says. "Not only because I know the wheelchair won't slow me down, but because exercise is the perfect antidepressant. The biggest high you will get is from pushing your body and mind past what you think it might be capable of. To get to a point where you have to talk to your body to keep it moving... I live for that feeling."
With zero planning, he pumped up his tyres, grabbed a coffee, and began pushing in what he hoped was the right direction. The first day was easy enough for a man of Wood's endurance: a 32km ride down "an endless backroad" in the baking sun followed by a night in a hostel to "tend to my sunburn with some aloe vera from the garden". 

But on day two, things. got real. Setting out from Key Largo at 9am, he kept going until about 3pm, when he realised he'd veered off the main track. Despite hitchhiking being illegal in Florida, he managed to score a lift from a couple who showed him a few local hot spots before dropping him off at a beach they said he might be able to crash at for the night if he couldn't find anywhere else. The beach was pretty busy, however, so he decided to push on. And on. By nightfall he still hadn't found a place to stay: being Easter weekend and spring break every place he enquired at was booked out. 
Setting a precedent for the rest of the trail, he kept rolling until the early hours of the morning, only stopping when exhaustion forced him to find a safe-looking spot to lay his head on his backpack. That night, he found himself pushing onward until 5am, chanting "I push for days and days" in fatigue-induced delirium, having been forced from one likely looking sleeping spot by a cluster of "beady-eyed spiders" and another by mysterious noises that left him fearful of who, or what might be lurking unseen in the bush. On day six, he completed the final stretch to Key West, arriving to find he'd become a minor celeb.
"People in stores and on the street would come up and say they saw me wheeling along the road. There was pretty much no one on this path down the Keys so I stuck out more than I usually would."

       
After finding a rooftop pool to cool off in, he met up with the guy whose  houseboat he was couch surfing at for the night and headed to Mallory Square to hang with the "proper tourists". 
"I watched the performers and looked out at the ocean and sunset and said thank you. Thank you for teaching me that I don't need much. That things will work out even if you have to sleep outside. That you can journey as long and as far as you like if you appreciate the journey."
Growing up, Wood didn't have much interest in travel until films such as Into the Wild got him thinking it might just help him find that sense of pure freedom that had eluded him thus far. At 22, he decided he'd hit the road before his 28th birthday, giving him time to complete his apprenticeship, work for a year and save up. Making good on his promise, he set out for the UK last December, aged 27. His aim: "To find out what's important in life to me without the distraction of routine". 
"My main plan was to not have a plan and to just see where I ended up. I didn't really overthink it, I just did it."
Wood's spontaneous tour of the UK saw him head wherever the train system, or new friends, would take him. Getting by on his savings and the occasional bout of busking (he plays the guitar), he met people through staying at hostels and joining local basketball games whenever he could. 
A highlight was discovering he could hire a car with hand controls. In characteristic easy-going fashion, he picked it up in Sandwich and headed north, planning to "get in and drive and see where I ended up". That somewhere turned out to be Iona: a tiny island off the southwest coast of Scotland. Having been told by an ex-girlfriend's father that it was a spiritual place many visited to find peace, he decided, spontaneously of course, to make it the destination of his own pilgrimage. 

Wood got rid of most of his possessions in the US, deciding to travel with just a small day pack and his guitar.
Arriving on the ferry, he wheeled down what appeared to be the "more promising" of two roads, feeling, as only the sound of the ocean broke the silence, that he was as far from home as he could possibly get on Earth. Opting to sleep in a field over the hostel at the end of the road to save money, he got his first taste of that pure freedom he'd been craving. 
"Looking out from the island, I felt like I had it all to myself... This is what I envision my dream of peace would look like. I just lay there looking up and out."
In late February, he moved on to the US, initially planning to buy a van to travel around in. When this proved harder than he'd expected, he decided to look for work on Workaway, a website which helps people find jobs in exchange for accommodation, and go wherever he found something. This had proved hard in the UK. "I had emailed so many places and, being in a chair without any references, I don't think people knew whether they would have to help me with everything. I just needed one person to say yes."
Fortunately one person did. A woman named Priscella offered him work painting car radiators in Locust Gap, Philadelphia - a village, he discovered after digging a path through the snow one evening and joining a St Patrick's Day celebration at the local fire station, where most residents had never met a foreigner before, never mind been overseas. 
Wood spent the next seven months moving from Workaway job to Workaway job in the US and then Europe, embracing what he terms "the life of a true vagabond". He grew a beard and gave away most of his possessions, travelling with just a small day pack and his guitar. He was, he realised, closer than he ever had been to achieving his dream of leading a simple life in tune with nature. 
Now back in Christchurch, he plans to work for about six months to a year before hitting the road again. He doesn't know where, if anywhere, he'll end up settling but it's a fair bet it'll be some remote outpost, probably without easy wheelchair access.
Writing on his blog from the US in June, he said he was waiting, as ever, for "the right moment to let go of everything and start the true life of a vagabond or go bush for a while. I picture myself in a bit of land on the west coast of the South Island, New Zealand completely in it. Like a man in the movies stranded on an island who has to let go of his modern world and learn to live off the land to survive... Why not strap myself to my chair and swing like Tarzan? I want to have the chance to approach life differently than in these 28 years so far."       https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Gpgr2NmqxM     
Eamon Wood is  also on Facebook.
https://themighty.com/2017/07/traveling … isability/

2,202

(8 replies, posted in Poems)

Thank you everyone for your kind coments. I am impressed by the number of young people I, meet  who rather than just fit in for the sake of fitting in, are trying  to stand out in good positive ways. Though we are told, on the downside  we here in New Zealand also have the highest recorded rate of youth suicide per capita in the developed world. ..  The population of our country is about four million.  In a normal week two teenagers or two children kill themselve.  About 20 young people will be hospitalised for self-harm each week, it is estimated.

E B I like the guitar shame you cant hear the vocals.

2,204

(2 replies, posted in Chordie's Chat Corner)

I heard a one hour radio interview with Bonnie a few years back. Not only is she a talented muso she is also an interesting humble person.

2,205

(8 replies, posted in Poems)

A poem about navigating changes in circumstances after a discussion I had with two differant young  people. They are both looking forward to next year with a bit of nervousness thrown in.  They are thinking  about  flying out of thier  family nests  and taking on the world in the New Year. It is now Springtime  in New Zealand and they willl be making their life changing move in summer.
                                                                                                       
                                                                                              Time To Bloom
All the seeds sown in me.
About to germinate.
Earth circling on it's  axis
Aligns with the sun.
Bursting light through dark clouds.
Creating tears of joy.
Droplets  sprinkling me. 
Time  to burst out and   sprout.
Under the sun's spotlight..
No longer a spectator.
Waiting for my show..
My time my time.
To  grow,

Sunlight and water.
Sunlight and wind.
Sunlight in the stillness.
Dark nights getting shorter.
No  better time to be me.

Sitting in familiar fertile soil .
Sits my anxious roots.
No longer  looking for comfort.
Just change and posibilities.
Uncomfortable, mixed emotions
overthinking what will  be.
Springtime turning the spotlight
The spotlight on me.
Sunlight, sunlight , pulling at me.
Sunlight  sunlight.
lifting me.
Time for me  to break through.

Sunlight and water.
Sunlight and wind.
Sunlight in the stillness.
Dark nights getting shorter.
No better time to be me..

I'm branching out and flowering.
My limbs  getting stronger.
Empowering me  
Clearing out the rubbish.
That's trying to cling to me. 

Sunlight and water.
Sunlight and wind.
Sunlight in the stillness.
Dark nights getting shorter.
No better time to be me.

2,206

(34 replies, posted in Chordie's Chat Corner)

Here is a bit of light hearted Bluegrass with a bit of humour thrown in.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1FLESf192bA

2,207

(13 replies, posted in Songwriting)

Grah that is a brilliant song it works well with your guitar and singing.  Video and voice nothing wrong with it  a good protest song.

Neo that is a  song  that would have got the crowd bouncing up and down on the floor.

Neo  nice guitar  rythmn and picking.

2,210

(9 replies, posted in Songwriting)

Beamer I like that Lou Reed vibe you got going there on guitar and vocals. Your voice works great when you extend words like out.  So when you sing  Turns me inside with a slightly extended out it works a treat. So if  you  ac|cen¦tu|ate     those last words  in the lines ... night,   light,  fright your voice sounds great.

Neo nice sound.

Neo excellent song choice. Paul Kelly a OZZY song writer I admire.
EB  I challenge Peatle to do Silvias Mother.
EB  I won't  be butchering  a song  this month.

2,213

(13 replies, posted in Songwriting)

Grah you hit the nail on the head perfectly with your song. The power brokers and thier agendas are scary.

2,214

(10 replies, posted in Poems)

Jim and Classical Guitar thank you.
A friend of mine has a photograph taken ten years ago of a social club we both belonged to. There are sixteen people in the photo of which there are only six of us alive today.
As the people in that photo pass away the more valuable that photo becomes to him. I guess when we die the real value in our life is the good memories we leave behind.

2,215

(10 replies, posted in Poems)

Thank you everyone I am pleased my writing has delivered what I was going through in a way that you good people got. With a cup of tea in my hand I toast the life of my friend who passed away. I am honoured also  to have you good Chordie folk in my life.
He aha te mea nui o te ao
What is the most important thing in the world?
He tangata, he tangata, he tangata
It is the people, it is the people, it is the people.
A New Zealand  Maori  Proverb.

2,216

(13 replies, posted in Chordie's Chat Corner)

Interesting plenty to play with nice.

2,217

(1 replies, posted in My local band and me)

I like the way the percussion stands out and isnt supressed.

2,218

(1 replies, posted in My local band and me)

Quality  production. Neo you have a interesting music history.

2,219

(10 replies, posted in Poems)

Phill it was around 4am this morning I couldn't sleep and my head was thinking about my friend. So I picked up a piece of paper and wrote these words to excise some of my emotions. We shared a similar outlook on life and our humour was the same. Thursday night here for some reason I descided to put these words on here instead of filing them away somewhere to be lost and not shared with anyone else. Thank you for your feed back

2,220

(10 replies, posted in Poems)

This wouldn't work as a song. I wrote it early this morning while thinking about my friend's funeral last Friday. It is a poem that doesn't have much rhyme. I hope it paints a accurate picture of his funeral through my eyes.

                           Farewell You
Here I am  sitting on  a wooden pew .
Here my  friend on a Friday afternoon just for you.
This time  in a church inside a wicker coffin lies you..
Church full to overflowing..
Quietly the funeral director squeezes in late arrivals..
Mourners not a good word for you.
A better word  for you those here to celebrate.
Why not you had a good life.
At the appointed time with the family comfortably seated your only child a grown up son gives the minister a silent nod.
The organist stops playing.
A white robed minister.
looking solemn stands at his pulpit.
He looks a little bit out of place
His space infiltrated by people not usually  part of this place.
People with wet eyes.
Bowed heads in diginified  mourning.
Digging deep some pulling out friendly  smiles.
In a pregnant silence my mind see's a picture of you.
laughing and joking.
It was  just two weeks ago the last time we spoke.
You were enjoying the simple things in life,
With a wit sharpe as a knife, never short of a joke.
Your contagious  generous spirit overflowing.
Not even your heart  in a bad shape could wipe that away.
Your zest for life apparent  each day.
Trying to stop my mind from drifting.
I  focus on the minister's welcome and prayer.
I can feel your spirit  in my mind.
Fighting the desire to turn back time.
My mind returns to this place with stainglass windows..
Now with everyone standing we sing.
 Accompanied by a struggling church organ. 
The hymn Jerusalem is sung from another land.
Only five years previouse you and your wife had visited that place where those feet in ancient times walked upon Englands  mountains green:
Maybe now you are looking down on me while talking  to your ansestors about  Englands pastures you had seen.
My mind wonders how would your Irish, Welsh and Scottish family along with your  Jewish ansestory hear this hymn.
The music comes to a halt.
My backside falls down onto a wooden pew.
Your oldest sister's, time to talk.
She tells us about your growing  years.
I remember us talking about them years, over  beers.
You and I  laughed alot about our  mischievous years..
My mind ticks over as she speaks.
Thinking about your life at its lowest and  highest peaks.
Your sister's words filling my mind like time lapse photography..
Installing remembered stories into us, chapters of  your growing years.
I can't help thinking as she sits down.
It should be appropriate to give huge cheers.  
Applause as a way of thanks for those good years.
Your son and wife takes over sharing with us more insights into your life.
When the Church bursts into laughter.
In my mind I hear your hearty laugh ..
Your cheeky smile comes to mind.
Your  way of making hard work fun.
You made the most of your time.
You wanted lots of laughter here and that is what you got.
You were never a man to stay sad or to ask for a lot.
Your younger brother and one neice honour you
With a  couple of quick funny stories about you.
That's what everyone  loved about you, laughter.
The minister asks us  for a moment to quietly reflect about you.
In my mind I can see you in silence at a beach.
Realing in your fishing line.
Catching fresh fish for a table surrounded by laughter.
Table made for love of life.
Table made for good stories.
I pray in my mind that your quiet faith has delivered your soul to the right place.
After a few quiet moments,
The minister leads us in The lords Prayer.
Our Father, which art in heaven,
Hallowed be thy Name.
The atheist sitting next me has an epiphany.
''First  time that prayer has made sense,'' he quiely whispers to me..
Your casket is then carried from the church.
Through the church sound system we hear the Byrds.
To everything, turn, turn, turn.
There is a season, turn, turn, turn.
And a time to every purpose under heaven.

2,221

(2 replies, posted in My local band and me)

Thank you Neo appreciate you taking the time to listen and comment.

2,222

(1 replies, posted in My local band and me)

Neo I like the guitar and the vocals.

2,223

(3 replies, posted in My local band and me)

Neo this song would be excellent  as part of a stage musical.

2,224

(6 replies, posted in My local band and me)

Jandle you and Belinda work well together great sound.

2,225

(8 replies, posted in Poems)

TF That is clever.