I must preface what is contained within this page with an apology – there is no real structure to it. It is an incoherent stream of consciousness and cuttings that has resulted in a kind of random tapestry – snapshots of experiences, stories and thoughts I’ve had, media I have created and other things, that together build a partial sketch of how I arrived at this moment in time, the perpetual beginning. These are some of the many hats I wear.

Hero Bek Wa Goro

02. TONY

I met Tony Blair on Valentine’s Day in 1997 without realising it. When I was in primary school I was a member of the Islington Music Centre. I was part of a small group invited to a ceremony at which a time capsule was to be buried under the central stalls of Sadler’s Wells theatre during its reconstruction. My friend and I, then 9, were waiting around at this ceremony with little understanding of what was actually going on or the purpose of our being there and a gentleman who bore a striking resemblance to Tony Blair came up to us and started conversing with us. We didn’t think anything of it. Fast forward a couple of minutes and a reporter from BBC Radio 5 Live approached us with a microphone and asked us what we thought about meeting the prime minister. We didn’t quite understand what they meant and asked them to clarify. ‘The gentleman you were speaking to a moment ago was Tony Blair’, they said. Our response – ‘Wasn’t he just a lookalike?’. ‘No, that was Tony Blair’.

Bek Wa Goro stock-of-instant-film-PJ7RRJV

03. DOOM

I find it tremendously difficult to keep still. I often gaze out of windows concocting plans which in my mind seem marvellous for a fleeting second but are often thrown into the notebook of doom I keep on my desktop.

Here’s the thing… If I could, I’d do a hundred things at once… (I pondered not writing that sentence because I thought that even with the odds of someone actually reading what is written on these pages being very low indeed, someone out there might come across that particular sentence and be so motivated as to argue that humans are constantly doing more than a hundred things at once when you consider what’s going on on a granular level. So to clarify, I am talking about consciously doing more than one hundred things at once.)

Where was I? Oh yes, if I could, I’d do a hundred things at once… But I guess I can’t right now. Because no one has invented a means by which we’d be able to do that… yet.

Bek in a Hat


From time to time, I experiment with music, blending synthesised soundscapes with percussive rhythms. These are some of my exploits.

Bek Wa Goro IMG_0235


I was once cocooned in a place like the ocean, without oxygen to inhale or soil to rest my feet

Surrounded by rich blues and mind-boggling creatures that would occasionally glide into and out of my periphery, disappearing along the cold sea bed

Creatures ensnared and enchanted by the flowing warm currents, who would meekly form fleeting, idiosyncratic histories which were soon forgotten and empty

I once lived in the deepest of waters where the sun’s dull rays would sporadically refract against the baseless reef

I would often flee the harsh and fluorescent light from bioluminescent urchins attempting to draw life in those lowly waters

I was once ensconced in a place like the arctic, surrounded by snow whiteness

Glaring and obvious I stuck out like dark matter in a great white void, like an inverse of the universe

Contrasting like stardust against the cosmos

I unknowingly traversed vapid and bleak pastures, stark and greyscale, timid and vague and without bounds

My journey interrupted by monochromatic polar bears and penguins, arctic foxes and wolves

I was once confined to a place like the desert

With its yellowish blush, barren and superfluous, a mass made more infinite by its granular makeup

The sweltering heat my only preoccupation, the material so vast it became immaterial

I was silenced by the ineffable and desolate sounds dispersed by the slurry of rolling sands

The inaccessible sonic of the landscape, like a voiceless proclamation of hopelessness contoured by rattling snakes and cackling hyenas

I was once trapped in a place like the rainforest, intolerable and inhospitable, poisonous and relentless

My sight obscured by the opaque illusion of greenness caused by a billion billion chlorophyll 

Unable to see beyond the broad beige trunks which soared into the clouds, interspersed by otherworldly species – bonobos, parrots and wild caterpillars, I randomly trod

Then at once the ocean, without its oxygen to inhale and without its soil to rest my feet, became a sanctum 

Then at once the arctic, that great white void, vapid and bleak, became yin and yang

Then at once the desert, that barren and superfluous mass became a golden and opulent shrine

Then at once the rainforest, once intolerable and inhospitable with its alien inhabitants became the familiar

Bek Wa Goro Going Down Some Stairs