Notes from the Boneyard

Taking a spin to west cork to pick up some records. The only question is which road do I go down.. the Wild West, or the mild east? I flip a coin. Heads for mild east. I ignore fates decision and take the Wild West. It’s a longer but better drive. I can stop off […]

On the road again. I’ve shown up to the check in desk at the airport, bloodshot eyes and grey skin. The lady at the desk looks at me like I’m a beast from the gutter. Maybe she’s right. After I get my ticket I realise my fly is undone. I need sleep. And a drink. […]

McKowskis obituary and the battle for the intangible Don’t worry. I’m not actually dead. Even though this weeks article is my obituary, which is written by my good friend Jack Burgess. Jack is an artist in every sense of the word. He writes like a painter. He paints like a jazz guitarist. He makes films […]

WORDS: McKowski, Gelb, & Brown. Another triple hitter at the Boneyard office this week as three authors continue to splutter straight from brain to paper, thus making up the triangle that connects Omagh, Tucson, & Iowa. I serve as the Merry Go Round Operators Handbook, Howe Gelb is the Spilled Milk, and Pieta Brown is […]

Had a nightmare that the world was ending. Woke up in a pool of > sweat. Grabbed phone and looked at social media. Felt inadequate. > Put phone down and stared at the ceiling for half an hour. Got out > of bed and washed. Saw myself in the mirror and wished I was > […]

Ok. Bear with me on this one. I’m about to go deep. But theres a point in here… somewhere. This stuff has been circling in my mind for some time now.. I’m trying to figure out the formula, or the recipe. The ingredients are all there, stewing in the brain. I Just need to write […]

And here we are, for the second week running. Owen Colgan has taken over Boneyard HQ and locked himself inside. It’s midnight. He taps away at the typewriter, a single bead of sweat dripping from his brow. His bloodshot eyes, twitching. His mouth, frothing. He pounds excitedly at the keys and laughs wildly under the […]

Above the guitar shop on Eggy Road is where Jongo and Honza lived together for 10 years. Jongo was the Belgian gypsy who owned and worked in the guitar shop. Honza was the Czech giant who busked every day from morning until night on Bold Street. They first met many years ago in France at an all […]