Behold, The Album!

Hello Internet.

I have created an album consisting of a collection of my poetry, including a bonus track which cannot be found online as well as a few other never before heard tracks.

Artwork by Gregory Gaige

It only costs £4 plus P&P and any money I make is going towards the budget of my first short film. I need to get prosthetics and make up and stuff -

You can check out my poetry at my Myspace or on YouTube to get an idea of whether it's something you are going to like or not. It's Christmas time, so what a wonderful present it could make for someone =p

^^

Buy my CD!

SuperPennie - From The Outside In
£4.50 + p&p
Be sure to click either the UK or Worldwide option to ensure the postage is right =]

SuperPennie - From The Outside In

From The Outside In (UK) £6.00 From The Outside In (Worldwide) £7.50

I am sat here with my best mate making some sort of steps towards something... I've got him drawing my album artwork so I can start selling CD's of my poetry at gigs and online. I do love artists. I feel like I missed out on valuable skills growing up, I can't draw, I can't do music, I can't do science. These are all things I imagine make life that little bit better. But I can read and write and I guess those are the basics, so they have to be worth something. Still though, can't help but being a little jealous of everyone with skills I don't have. I guess that is just the way things go, everyone wants what they can't have. Human nature and all that. At least my issues lie in talent and not material possessions, I've accepted writers hardly ever hit the real money.

I went to a careers in the media course this week, at which I discovered a) to succeed you need to be really lucky, b) you need as much experience and (useful) qualifications as possible and c) it's all about who you know. And ok, all that being said, I didn't really 'learn' anything new. So with very little faith, I am left with a challenge I can either chose to attempt or walk away from. I am obviously tackling the challenge head on, I wouldn't want to do anything else. I love writing.

That being said, I will work out how to sell my album online and I think you should all consider purchasing it, as if all goes well it will be the cheapest way to get hold of my poetry. Fingers crossed all goes well =]

And So It Begins

So, here I am. I have to admit this whole 'blogging' thing seems strange to me, it's as if I am baring my soul for the world to see. It almost makes me feel a little uncomfortable how close to me readers could get, it's the same sort of feeling I get from Twitter. Suddenly the world has full access to my every thought. At least with Facebook you have some control over who can see you, who can scour pictures of your face and read you mind with each status update - something like this leaves me defenceless. Ironically, I'm a poet. Or at least I like to think I am. Poetry is traditionally about such soul baring, shouldn't that be the same thing? Well, yeah sometimes. But poetry gets to come under the guise of 'art', almost as though it's the baring of someone else's soul instead.

Right, so I'm going to stop saying 'soul baring' 'cause in effect that doesn't even mean anything. It's just an empty saying to express some idea I expect you all to be familiar with, without actually offering up anything of itself. What is a 'soul'? If I had an answer, this wouldn't be the entry to divulge it in.

This is the part I introduce myself to the world (for the millionth time no doubt). I am Pennie Varvarides (aka SuperPennie - look me up if you're curious) and words get me off some kind of crazy. Like an actor as he takes a stage, writing something I expect people to see leaves me tingling and anxious. It's that sick to your stomach feeling you get when you're nervous and excited and embarking on a new adventure. And ok sure, blogging isn't much of an adventure but who knows where it'll lead me.

I plan to get a real website at some point. Some point soon (Jingle bells, Jingle bells....), until then this can be my playground. I can't tell you what to expect, other than me waffling on about the things that make me happy - or more likely angry. I'm not even sure how likely it is anyone will ever read any of this beyond my immediate friends. But heck, I just want to write something that isn't a philosophy essay.