In Vienna, there is a curious spherical kingdom. This round house was created by an anarchist who wanted complete freedom, but eventually had his power and utilities cut off. His home, “The Republic of Kugelmugel’ still stands in the Prater, as a testament to its own pluckiness and resolve.

I think we all love stories like this. A quirky artist defying the odds and perhaps gaining a bit of notoriety and fame (or infamy) through their actions.

But micronations come at a cost. You can’t expect free power or water forever. Likewise, I reflect on my own life. As a latch key kid1, you are expected to solve all your own problems, and be independent. It teaches you resolve. You can face hardships and develop grit. However, you develop a thick bark that keeps the world out. That bark is your armour, your protection. It helped you survive (and perhaps even thrive.)

But as a consequence, your micronation turns most people away at the border.

Your own Kugelmugel helps keep the messy things of life checked at the gate. Eventually, though, the utilities will get cut. Overtime, you’ll have to make peace with the greater world.

And that is not a bad thing. That’s life— we all have a choice to return from the self-imposed exile of our little micronation. Donne and Merton have both discussed how we are not islands. But Pablo Neruda gives the most beautiful prose of letting go of your armour:

Earth, give me back your pure gifts,
the towers of silence which rose
from the solemnity of their roots.
I want to go back to being what I have not been,
and learn to go back from such deeps
that amongst all natural things
I could live or not live; it does not matter
to be one stone more, the dark stone,
the pure stone which the river bears away.

We can be that island, that stone which the river purifies, and later return to the ocean that once bore us. Maybe all it takes is occasionally lowering the armour; to let go of that precious protection and just embracing the world for a moment.

Or you can charge 15,00€ for entry. Citizenship can be purchased for 200,00€. Hey, its a small price to keep your micronation afloat.

I really did go all out for this project.

I hired an incredible artist (Carles Gomila) to do the book cover. Additionally, I had invested in getting a good editor (who was disappointed that I had stopped after already editing half the book). I had committed myself fully to the writing of this project, only to realise it’s not what I really wanted to do.

So after 248,000 words what changed?

The writing part was… surprisingly easy. In many ways, it was a joy. It was a creative outlet, a way of expressing myself to a degree I’ve never done before. There were moments of raw emotion and even epiphany. And yet, something was missing.

The work was done in almost complete isolation - my comfort zone. I’ve strived to be self-sufficient, independent my whole life. And discipline is second nature. The covid lockdowns were no sweat for me, since it seemed the world just adjusted to my way of living. But after living that way for so long, I didn’t want to continue.

It gets fucking lonely.

At the same time, my mind drifted back to my messy draft. There was a character, named Aidan, a teenager who had died early on in the novel. I liked the character and his story, so I picked up a guitar (after a long hiatus) and composed a simple song.

I eventually wrote down lyrics. The song comes from the perspective of his father, then his sister, during Aidan’s funeral:

Aidan

Where are the books and the stories,
That this heart knows is true?
Is there any way to name this?
Are words ever enough for you?

Bright as the sun, lights my path
Sure as the sky is blue
Shine like stars on my dark nights
Aidan is that you?

See the world from your shoulders
Love as far as the eye can see
Dark clouds surround us now
Why are you so far away from me?

Bright as the sun, lights my path
Sure as the sky is blue
Shine like stars on my dark nights
Aidan is that you?

Bright as the sun, lights my path
As sure as the sky is blue
Shine like stars on my dark nights
Aidan is that you?

I smiled. I had the lyrics; the song was complete. Perhaps the book project wasn’t as fruitless as I had thought? But there was still something missing. Someone had to sing it. I certainly didn’t want to, I hated my voice. But it was my song, and it somehow had to be my voice.

So began my journey to learn how to sing.

I decided to try a well known singing coach who trained the ‘stars’. That, however, nearly sank me before I even got started. They told me that watching me sing was painful but if I committed to a year worth of lessons, I could be set right.

After taking a breather, I finally found a quirky vocal coach originally from Slovenia, and it was just what I needed.1 It took a lot of time, and several misfires. There were times I over practiced and blew out my voice. We worked through numerous vocal and technical difficulties.

After a few months in, I introduced my song Aidan into the vocal practice. I couldn’t even play the guitar and sing at the same time, I just sang it to a background recording. We worked through the song for several months. I dropped the guitar tuning 1 and 1/2 steps, then I raised again, before raising it another step.2 The song both infuriated and utterly delighted me. And somewhere during the process I learned to play the guitar and sing at the same time.

Since then, I’ve written nearly 40 songs - but Aidan has a special spot being the first song I’ve written and sung. It’s the first song I’ve sung live to an audience, and its become a regular on my livestreams. 3

And just for substack, here’s a quick demo of Aidan performed at my own “tiny desk”:

Finally, a bonus. Here is one of the chapters referring to the character of Aidan in my unpublished novel. It’s the final chapter in Aidan’s life:

Chapter 9: Jolly Daintive

Owen held the drone to his chest. It was Aidan’s.

When Aidan was 10, Owen often took him to his work place. Aidan loved being around the gadgets. Owen had just fixed a mid 21st century drone. The drone had a nameplate which stated The Jolly Debacle.

Aidan pointed at the name. “What’s that mean?”

“It means everything and nothing at all. That’s the joy of naming things.” Owen answered. “Thought Jolly would be a good name for drone. In old times, pirates had a flag called the Jolly Rogers. But Jolly by itself felt a bit lonely. So I consulted the authority.”

Owen thumped down a large blue book.

Oxford English Dictionary - Second Edition - Vol IV - Creel - Duzepere

Aidan looked at it with awe. “Does it have pictures?”

“Not the kind of pictures you are thinking of, boyo. But yes it does have pictures. It’s a book of words - pictures for your mind. “ Owen tapped his index finger on the side of his head.

“So boyo, to name things, there’s a special process we must follow. We close our eyes, open the book, and twirl our finger, and it lands on a word. That’s how it landed on debacle. Here let me show you.”

He opened the book, twirled his finger and pointed to the definition.

Aidan read it aloud.

“2. A sudden breaking up or downfall; a confused rush or rout, a stampede.”

“Very good, boyo. That’s how we name things.” Owen said.

Aidan eyes lit up. “Dad, can I name something?”

Owen held his chin. “Hrmm. Well it so happens I just fixed another drone yesterday.” Owen picked up a large silver drone. “She’s a beauty.”

“Oh Daddy let me name it!” Aidan shouted.

“Ok Aidan. But you must take a solemn oath to name things. It’s serious business.” Owen said. “You think you are ready for such a responsibility?”

Aidan looked earnest. “I am.”

“Ok boyo. Raise your left hand” Owen commanded.

The boy complied. Owen held the book in front of Aidan.

“Place your right hand on the sacred text of the English language” Owen continued.

Aidan gently placed his hand on the worn cover.

“Aidan Quente Krasny - do you solemnly swear to give things their true names, the full true name, and nothing but their true name, so help you God?”

Aidan was silent. Owen whispered to him “Hey boyo, this is were you say I do.”

Aidan stammered “Oh.. I do.”

“By the powers divested to me by the Oxford English Department, I declare you, Aidan Quente Krasny, a true namer of things, neophyte level.” Owen concluded.

Aidan remained silent.

Owens voice boomed. “Congratulations, you get to name the drone now!”

Aidan beamed with excitement. Owen handed him the book. “Do you remember how to do it, or do ya need a refresher course?”

Aidan replied with a sing-song voice Of course I remember.

Aidan took the book. He closed his eyes and carefully opened the book. With his left hand he supported the book while his right finger danced in the air. His finger softly landed on a page.

“Let’s see watchya got there.” Owen observed.

Aidan read it aloud. “Daintive. It means dainty?”

“Ah a delightful name! Now, just follow the clues - go to Dainty.” Owen helped the boy find the definition.

Aidan looked at it “There are so many definitions, how do I know the right one?”

Owen said “You are now the true namer of things. It can hold which ever meaning you decide. Even all of them.”

Aidan slowly read through all the definitions. “I really like this one.”

“Liking or fondness to do or see anything; delight, pleasure, joy”

Aidan smiled “Daintive. it even looks a bit like my name. Let’s call it the Jolly Daintive!”

“Well done” Owen responded. “You are really good at this.”

Owen processed a plastic name plate. He sprayed adhesive on the back, and handed it to the boy.

“Do the honours, Aidan” Owen handed him the plate. Aidan proudly glued the name plate on.

“Can we fly the Jolly Daintive now?” Aidan asked.

“Don’t see why not. Lets go boyo!”

--

Owen looked out the stormnest.

Somehow these cruel times still found moments of kindness. The doctors and nurses allowed Aidan to die naturally instead of pumping chemicals to extend his life a few more hours.

Krisante got the boy’s ashes. Everyone was supposed to be cremated and buried in the Memorial Garden. But Krisante pulled strings and got his ashes. Who knows how? Maybe she told them the ashes were radioactive. Didn’t matter.

It was a kindness.

Owen had placed Aidan’s ashes in the drone. It was just them there. Rosalyn, Midnight, Krisante, and Flear.

They didn’t say anything. They had already said all the words. It was time for goodbye.

Owen gave the drone to Midnight. She climbed a small ladder to reach the vent window. The large drone barely fit. Owen switched on the machine.

The Jolly Daintive drifted outside for its final voyage. It sailed with ease and grace. The soft vernal sun glittered on its silvery skin.

There.

Owen walked over to the family. He put his hand out, they piled there hands on top of his. All eyes on the drone. Owen lowered the stack of hands unto the tablet.

The Jolly Daintive released the ashes from its cargo bay. A plume of light grey smoke billowed beneath for a few seconds.

“May the clouds be seeded with your love, Aidan.” Owen finally said.

The last fluttering of ash dissipated.

Owen pressed his tablet to turn off the power. The Jolly Daintive ceased hovering and descended into the clouds below.

“Goodbye boyo” Owen whispered “goodbye.”

When I press start streaming, sometimes I forget the simplest things that help me with my performance. This is a list of things taped to my computer screen to make sure things go smoothly during a livestream session on twitch.

Shake!

I am an anxious individual. I haven’t done enough shows where nerves don’t get to me. So before the camera goes live, I shake my body like a madman (much to delight of my rough collies, who think its some kind of game.) Arms, legs, torso, head, hips… I know it looks stupid as hell, but its incredible for reducing the tension.

Fast.

I made the mistakes of having the wrong food and beverages before a performance. Coffee? Welcome, all you jitters. Dairy? Welcome to the world of mucous. Alcohol? Welcome sleepy performances. So I make sure to keep an empty stomach; fasting before a show keeps me stable during performances.

Right Guitar?

This means playing the right guitar for the song. I have 3 main guitars I perform with: my electric Eastman Romeo, Martin Junior Cutaway, and Martin Junior Jeff Tweedy. While all my songs can be played on any of those guitars, playing the correct guitar will give the song its best vibe. Its easy to forget to switch, but even the act of changing guitars helps me get into the mindset of the next song.

Capo.

I’ve started entire songs on the wrong capo only to realise half way through that my voice is out of range. Unfortunately I have gone a few times without changing the key, and wonder why I can barely sing it. That’s worse than not being able to sing it at all, since that would immediately make me check and see what’s wrong!

Tuner (disengaged?)

This is a two fold thing. The first is to check and see if your guitar is tune. Moving the capo around, changes in temperature, and weather can make your guitar go out of key.

The second is that the tuner has to be disengaged before I start again. My tuner turns off the PA system. While playing with the tuner engaged, my guitar will not be heard on the live stream - though I can still hear it locally. The result is me singing a cappella to the audience!

Eat the Microphone.

As a guitarist, I have a tendency to look unto my fret board while playing the guitar. During a livestream, this makes my head move away from the microphone and cuts off my voice. So I have a note that says ‘eat the microphone’ to remind myself to keep my lips close to the mic.

I have a few songs that have difficult finger style passages that I play while singing. The natural tendency is to look at the guitar instead of singing into the mic, its a habit I am still trying to fight!

Hydrate.

Water is the great soother after each song. I sometimes get a raspy voice when allergy season kicks in. Having a water there is like an old friend that has your back. I have a 750ml steel bottle to keep things nice and fresh.

Just be careful with sparkling water… you may end up repressing a burp during a heartfelt number!

Fuck Stats.

Nothing can be so discouraging as seeing as the only person on Twitch is just you. In a previous life, I worked in examining all manner of statistics. Numbers were logical, sane, and you could make practical decisions from it. They were my closest ally.

They can be an enemy while streaming. One time I played an emotional song and saw another viewer came online. My heart leaped.. until a few seconds later when they left. I was gutted.. and I let it affect my performance.

Singing into the void can be a heart wrenching experience if you let it. At first I always imagined a crowd listening. Eventually my wife logged on while in the same room and provided some amazing support (thanks Barbara!) Its made all the difference.

For now, I ignore the stats.

Engage!

Having someone drop by and say hello while streaming is an exhilarating experience. I am singing my songs because I love it, and I want others to enjoy it too.

Do simple things like respond to every chat, say hello, and thank you.. Just the things I would do naturally if I met someone in real life. Yet - its so easy to let the screen be a barrier between two souls.

—

So this is just my current list, its subject to change and additions. If you are a musician/performer on livestreams, I’d love to know your own personal checklist as you are running your show!

The picture above has one of my favourite photography stories.

Years ago, I loved to shoot film and I had a novel underwater camera - the Konica Mermaid. I shot miniatures, so I decided to see how this camera would work shooting a small military figurine underwater.

I found a shallow tidal pool, placed the figurine in it, and started to click. All was going well until I made a ridiculous blunder: I pressed the film door release latch - while underwater! Needless to say, salt water flooded the insides of my waterproof camera as I desperately tried to shut it.

I was gutted by the mishap.

I didn’t think the film would be salvageable. But that evening I went home and developed the roll hoping that something would be there. It was C-41 film, so I push-developed it at high temperatures and added extra development time in hopes that it could bring out lost details.

After drying the negatives I discovered the intriguing photo.

The figurine had its head breaching the surface, its shoulders were reflected in the water above. The film had a purple cast, probably caused by the push development. Its numerous speckles were from salt exposure. Also, notice the newton rings on the centre-left of the picture. The negative was warped from the salt water exposure. This warping made the negative to touch the scanner, causing that effect.

It is an imperfect beauty - and its why it is one of my favourite photos I’ve ever taken. It is also a visually perfect segue for my album Surface Tension, an album to come out about 15 years later!

I had just finished writing the title track ‘Surface Tension’ earlier this year. The idea was that surface tension is the barrier between two entities that only love can permeate.

At first, I didn’t think of the photo for the album - the negatives were in a old box somewhere in the attic. But as luck would have it, I found the figurine I used as I was clearing out stuff for charity. That brought back the memory of the photo shoot. And a perfect cover for the album.

In addition, the back cover from the album was also from the shoot. It had similar artifacts such as the purple cast and scratches on the negative. Here the figurine was knocked over by the incoming tide.

So an happy accident 15 years ago was rediscovered and repurposed for a music album about love!

When I moved to New Zealand twenty years ago, I lost that booklet, but I remembered that tuning. I was gifted a small classical guitar and kept it in the tuning. While I only played sporadically the last 20 years, I became so acclimated to the tuning that I stopped playing the regular tuning all together.

Its hard to say what drew me too it, or why I stayed with it so long. Was it the easy ability to use a major third between the two open bass strings? Was it the exotic chord voicings? Or was it something simpler - the slack strings made it easier to play?

One feature is that the major/minor chords are dead simple to play. Also, they can easily be augmented and embellished. Here are a few common chord patterns I use:

Major chord pattern:

Minor chord pattern 1:

Minor chord pattern 2:

You can experiment with the chords by using open strings, or embellishing with simple hammer-ons or pull-offs. In short, you can do anything you usually do with the standard E A D G B E tuning. In addition, its sounds unusual - though to my ears its no longer exotic!

Give it a try, let me know what you think. If you are in a creative funk, this tuning might bring forth some creative and novel ideas for your songwriting.

Below is one of the first songs I wrote in this tuning. It’s a short instrumental, called Toccoa:

All screenshots of chords are from the Oolimo app.

It was easy to see how it happened. I wanted to get into Music school. I did an audition to play classical guitar - I played Bourrée by Bach, and I had thoroughly bungled it. The head of the department decided to approve me anyway - but only if I worked hard to get better.

Though I had a terrible audition, I was determined to prove myself worthy.

I should have never been admitted into music school, my ability was far behind the other students. But the next 4 months of my life was madly simple: wake up, practice guitar, classes, practice guitar, maybe food, practice guitar. Practice was my obsession.

I had just begun to improve when the tell-tale signs came - the numbness and weakness in my left hand. Jars were impossible to open and I even had trouble turning door knobs. I could not bring my thumb and pinky together closer than 5cm, leaving my hand in an ugly claw.

Though I dropped out of music school and changed my studies, I was still obsessed with the guitar. I decided to figure out alternative guitar tunings. I had hopes that a lowered tuning with tighter fretting patterns would be easier on my left hand. After a few months I had hundreds of different tunings with their chord patterns drawn into my manual.

The slackness of the drop tunings made the strings softer to play. I eventually could play up to 15 or 20 minutes a day. Though my thenar eminence on my left hand was twice the size of the right, the practice had paid off; I was much better at playing the guitar despite the limited ability I had.

It was enough to keep me creatively satisfied for a couple years, while still dreaming of being a musician. In the interim, I had graduated university, studying information systems. The new field open doors for me I couldn’t even have imagine yet. I decided to do something brave.

That bravery was to relocate myself 13,000 kilometres away.

I left my country to start life over again. It was a total reboot: I had no job, no friends, or family in my new country. I sold my gear. In addition, my notebook with all my alternate tunings were left behind and lost.

During the first six months I dated a girl who gave me her brothers 3/4 size classical guitar. The relationship did not last, but the guitar stayed. It was a lovely little Korean-made guitar. Although I did not have my book of tunings, I tuned it to the only non standard guitar tuning I remembered: D F# C# E A E.

The next 20 years were a wonderful blur. So much life happened.

I was involved in a successful tech start up. I had met and married the love of my life. I had lost one of my best friends and mentors to cancer. Our Cinderella start up was sold to an overseas competitor for a small fortune.

During my business career, I would play that little guitar once every four months for a few minutes. And then promptly forget about it, putting that little guitar back in the closet.

This time was very good to me, but it didn’t mean I was always happy.

Working in business, technology, and managing people had drained the life force from me. I had no appetite to ever return to that world again. In fact that world disgusts me now. The hopeful and quirky world of 2000’s tech had given way to corporate bloat and conformity.

It was late 2022.

I started writing lyrics in my weird little tuning. I realised soon enough that I was the only person that would be able to sing my songs. I started to take singing lessons. I had sung in choirs and choruses before, but this would be like learning to walk again.

One of the first vocal coaches I tried didn’t work out well. My instructor told me he was startled about how little I could open my mouth. He wondered how I could get any sound out at all, and said it was painful to watch me attempt to sing. He was impatient and looked like he had better things to do. It was discouraging.

But around the same time, I had found a quirky vocal coach originally from Slovenia. It really turned things around for me. She heard the uniqueness of my own voice, and was able to challenge me to get the best out of my voice. I grew confident in my tone thanks to her steadfast help and belief in me.

I also needed a new guitar, and had one custom built for me: an electric guitar that could handle alternate tunings, 3/4 size with a wider neck to make it easier on my hands. It was gorgeous, but playing it on my tuning sounded atonal. I had sent it to be fixed but it returned with the same issue. Sadly, it was useless to me.

From that point on, I did some research and started looking for the Eastman La Romeo. I knew I had to try it out in my tuning, and luckily there was a local music store that just got one in.

I tucked myself in a corner, and turned the volume way down, and try to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. It was the perfect guitar, and I ended up buying it and hanging out in the music store regularly.

I got to know the guys who worked at the music store and even got invited to work in their new studio. Even better, those guys became friends. I finally felt heard as musician and even had opportunities to return the favour and support their new studio.

Its now 2026.

I’ve written nearly 40 songs in the past 4 years.

As a young man, I loved writing songs on my guitar. I had recorded hundreds of little songs and riffs on a simple cassette recorder. Those songs, however, had no life experience behind them, they were a result of me trying to sound clever and/or artistic.

But the newer songs are from lived experiences. I am immensely proud of them.

I’ve selected 8 of the songs for an album and plan to start recording them soon. In addition, I’ve taken some big steps in to performing as well. I am a self-conscious person, so getting in front of people is difficult.

I’ve played in front of friends and even have played a couple of very small gigs. Its still a struggle, but the more exposure I’ve had the easier its gotten. I’ve even recently started on Twitch.

Where is this going? I don’t know.

Its easy to be discouraged - there are voices in my head saying I’m too old, that AI is replacing musicians. And worse, that no one will want to listen to me. But then there is another voice there too.

That voice feels powerful in front of a microphone. It feels energised when the strings of the guitar vibrate. And before I even know it, that other voice of doubt and fear dissolves to insignificance.

I didn’t have a title while writing this article, so I looked at my guitars for inspiration. I came back to that first guitar which was gifted to me when I arrived to this country. It looked worn, but well.

Then I realised I had not changed the strings since receiving it. For a brief moment I thought of changing them. But the strings, dull and tarnished, carry my DNA. They carry all the pain and joy I’ve had in the past two decades, and yet still softly call out to be played.

So what happens when you haven’t changed your guitar strings for 20 years?

You keep playing.