Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week’s been different. I keep finding the music more and more electrifying each time I go to the room. There’s something happening there.

On another note, I have made it through the plague one again. I don’t know who keeps sending all this crap to my system, but man oh man it’s hard to fight. But I’ve decided that you just never ever give up. So I don’t. And that’s what I’m telling you. If it’s good enough for me, it’s good enough for you.

Michelle and Dean are doing well. Dean is quite an extraordinary man. He called me family once and I’ve never forgotten that. Anyways, life goes on.

Michelle told me I have to start cheering up. Well, I’m always up for a good one so I wrote this little tale for you all. Maybe I wrote it for me.

That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. Tonight’s tale is about five kids, some kites, and a wheelchair. Enjoy.



It all started on a field. There were five friends; eleven or twelve years old. School chums, you see.  It was a spectacular spring morning, the kind of morning that just…hugs you. Flowers were growing, trees showing off new leaves. If you closed your eyes, the breeze took you back to Mom’s fresh laundry swaying on the line. It was a glorious time to send a kite soaring in the wind.

So on that nice spring day, the kids, all five of them, decided that they would fly kites. Oh, what an extraordinary time they planned. And off they went.

As they ran around the field, the sun opened wide and the wind…well it all just seemed right. How they moved, the five of them.  Running, falling, and laughing–yes, always laughing.

Suddenly, one of the boys looked down the field and saw the sun pinging off a wheelchair with a kid in it. This boy said to his guys, “Did you see the light dance on that kid’s wheelchair? I think it’s magic!”

His friends looked at him and said, “Oh, don’t bother him. He’s broken.”

And so, on they played. The little guy stood watching his friends and yet…down the field. In a moment, yes that’s all it took for this little guy to feel something he had never felt before. He pulled the string of his kite, gazed at everything, then with nothing more than a feeling, started walking down the field towards the broken boy. The little fellow kept walking until the two of them were sort of face to face. The kid in the chair was bent funny. The little fellow bent his head and said, “My name is James G. Are you broken?”

The kid in the chair lifted his head and said, “No, I’m Bob.”

James G said, “Bob, this is my kite. I will help you hold it and together we can watch it fly.”

And then there were two.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson



Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week has been calm, which is extraordinary in itself.  The music has been awesome. It’s fun to go back, and that’s really good because I think I’d lost that for a long time. But now I’m really enjoying myself. I’m so proud of Daniel who has produced incredible music for the last month. That’s what he and I both wanted from him, and it’s working.

Some days I feel like I can’t close my hand but I never tell anybody because I have to do what I do. I write and I’m a drummer. It just happens that I’m left-handed and it’s my left hand that’s the problem.  But I’ve found people who make my life better and help me deal with all the pain: Alisa my massage therapist, Laura my physiotherapist, Suzanne my reflexologist, Dwayne my chiro, and Doc C who watches out for everything. Of course, I always have Michelle and Dean; together they’re invincible so they make me feel invincible.

There are always reasons someone might need all of these people. It’s unfortunate that I know these angels only as people taking care of me because it always reminds me that I need a lot of work done. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.



It seems like yesterday yet it has been many years. The streets I grew up on changed. My life, different in the blink of an eye. I made choices in the thunder and the rain. As a husband: usually wrong, settled for, in obscurity. I must have failed a lot of people in that last life. Very quiet…okay then.

One door–oh you know what I mean. Even though I’ve had to crawl my way back, now I carry myself with pride. My memories were taken so I learned to look ahead.

Clock is ticking–only I am here to hear it. Doubts? Doubts are what push me. No one there? I talk to myself. Not great, but it works. Even though I know I’m talking to the wind I’m just saying, well…fuck it. Time to move on.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone everywhere,

This has been a good week The music’s been spectacular and everyone is in a good zone. Michelle is fighting like crazy but still has no answers and that sucks. Dean’s good.

I want everyone to understand that no matter what your issues there’s always hope. Gone is forever, so I implore anyone who is going through difficulties to remember that you’re never truly alone. There’s always someone. Remember that.

Okay, so I’ve told you as much as I can. I’ll let the story tell you the rest.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.



It was a cold winter night; it seems as though that’s good weather for falling apart. And to say Tindal McPhee was confused that night would be an understatement.

Tindal had been in a hell of a bang up. They said it was a terrible two-car crash, only Tindal, well with all that was going on he forgot to bring a car. At first he was gone, but a few days later he came back the best he could. He spent months in a dead soul.

Eventually, Tindal left one nightmare behind, but there was so much more to come. He left the hospital five months into an undiagnosed severe brain injury with no doctor and no proper meds. The whole story of that time can be left untold for now.

Now to that night. Tindal was alone. (Who would be there? He’d gone crazy!) What brought him to that dark cold place in his heart and head he wasn’t sure. But he hobbled over to where he had hung his blood-soaked coat, and as he took the sight in, he wanted to go to a place where there was no more pain.

It was funny how intense his journey already was, but it had only begun, even though Tindal didn’t yet know it.

One more time he cheated death.

He sat on the floor for what seemed like hours until finally, he said, “I can never ever give up again.”

To this day, he never has.

 That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson


Hello everyone, everywhere,

I don’t have any children but I like to write about them. I see kids with their parents and when they do something funny I laugh to myself and I remember. And then I turn it into my world.

I can only imagine how exhausting it must be to try to teach your children about the world today.  It’s hard to find answers in a world that changes day by day. And everybody keeps dancing to the fool on the hill.

I think if I had children I would tell them to be smart, to be cautious, to listen to the music in the wind, but for God’s sake, be happy. And I would say, “You’re bigger so you protect the smaller.”

But what the hell do I know?

I thought that tonight I would write a little something about a boy who grows into a man in a day. I hope you enjoy it. That’s it.

And now it’s time to close our eyes and our thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest.



The sky is black, yet it is only 5:30 p.m. as I take to the hills looking for adventure. Will I pounce on a tiger? No, no tiger. Maybe a giant is in the woods. (I think now, the woods is a good place to leave a giant). But I am eleven and I can’t be stopped.

I move carefully, like a black panther. Yes, that will work for me. As I stealthily make my way to the waterfall I hear singing. I crouch, shaking only a little, my eyes round and wide as I peer through the last bush I can find. And there is a beautiful older woman–she could be thirty. It doesn’t matter to me; you see that, right? She has a blanket around her with a star on the back and she looks like she is calling to the moon.

Things might have changed since then. But that night an eleven-year-old man watched a princess dance.

That’s all.


By jamesghutcheson