I've been spoiled, these last two months. I knew it at the time, but a couple weeks in Malaga has really driven the point home. It wasn't the workshops so much, (tho they were awesome), it was the access to scrap. Both Christiania and Kesselburg had magnificent scrap piles, and, frankly, I miss them awfully.

The main problem in Malaga is that you can make money by collecting metal, so all the existing skips and construction sites etc have been picked clean by the homeless. Which is, y'know, great for them and all, but it's leaving me utterly short of materials.
And it's ridiculous how basic I'm talking. Like; two bits of pipe and something flat. I even went to the extent of catching a train out into the industrial sprawl in the city's west on the off chance that I'd stumble across something, but if there's an actual scrap yard within a hundred k's of here I can't find any trace of the bloody thing and the only events of that day worth noting was almost being forcibly dragged off the road by two prostitutes.

Coming home in the evening, after half a day of walking around, I found exactly what I needed sticking half out of a bin directly in front of the house.

I like to humour my life, bless her, she thinks she's funny.

I've left Kesselburg and Germany for the south of Spain, where apparently there is a squat in which I can stay and sunlight through December in which I can do the final tuning of the device.

Just for the pure hedonism of it I hooked through Edinburgh on the way and performed in another Samhuinn (Celtic halloween) festival.
Here's me being all scary and stuff.





Last year we made oak flatbows and several of our friends were hunted, murdered, and eaten.
Good times.