Abbi is home and Dan is head-over-heels about it. I can always tell because he plays football and he is better when she is around - even though she doesn't come to watch. Still its good to know they get on so well. He had a letter in his bag this week. Turns out he was only 2 marks shy of an A* in Chemistry and he had a chance to re-sit one paper. I saw the letter yesterday, the re-sit exam was the day before. He didn't even know what was in it, he just forgot to give it to me - oh well, that's my boy. And this is them together. It's Abbi's 17th birthday and butter wouldn't melt. The music today was sent to me by someone who had a bicycle crash - well she tangled with a kangaroo which has to be the funniest was of wrecking your bike - Tom Waites, always a good egg and such a good song. Sometimes I feel as though I should write something more profound like wot Delueze does but I am too tired to think. It has been a long day researching, writing, working, reading and getting groceries otherwise we wouldn't eat. Got some cheese Grommit... och! Broken bicycles, old busted chains, with rusted handle bars, out in the rain; somebody must have an orphanage for all of these things that nobody wants any more... he's such a good writer... sigh!
Sigh... beauty is in the eyes of the beheld (in my case) - my baby daughter is in Cairo, ill and had to pull out of her tennis match, after saying, "I didn't want to say this morning and worry you... I thought I could beat her, but just didn't have the energy to continue..." So far away and so helpless. Don't we just want to keep them by us forever!
In my last posting I said I wasn't going to blog another - here it is, which just goes to show the howls of protest worked. But I just had to post a picture of the fuchsia which has taken over the left hand side of my garden in spectacular fashion. Its a about 8-10 ft tall and about 6-8 ft wide and is such a joy to be seen when bathed in the low autumnal sun. This picture doesn't really do it justice at all, neither does this smaller close-up - though if you click on the picture it comes up larger. But that's just it, "representation" is about really real, it's in impersonation or should that be "substitution" - something acting as substitute for the 'real thing'? For example, it has been said that, "A female character in a movie is seen to stand in for women everywhere." That's the fun thing with blogging, some might think I am a male, but maybe I am just representing him here; substituting an image of him as me. Indeed, I might be this sofa. This is one of those odd pictures that comes into our lives and I have no idea how it got onto my camera. It's just a tableau representing what goes on behind my head when I sit typing. I always wondered what the world would look like if I had eyes in the back of my head and now I know. The chair, bottom left with the cover over it is the one I sit on at my desk. I rescued it from a skip in London and its been with me ever since (falling apart as it is). The other chair to the right of the piano and upright guitar I rescued from outside my house. In Brighton, if we want to get rid of stuff that still has its uses we leave it outside for others to take. My next door neighbour left two of these chairs and Dan and I brought them in. Not much else I can say about the room though except that is the only corner without books. Talking of recycling, though, this song contains some of the best lyrics Joni Mitchell ever wrote (in my humblebumble) and recycled by Diana Krall for Elton John.
Last night a bright Harvest Moon ushered in the changing seasons in a rare cosmic arrangement that has not occurred in nearly 20 years. The full moon arrived on the same night as the autumnal equinox, which occurred last night at 03.09am, GMT 23rd of September to mark the official start of autumn in the northern hemisphere, as well as spring in the south. Not since the 23rd of September, 1991 has a full moon occurred on the same night as the autumn equinox, and it won't happen again until 2029. Isn’t the world a wonderfully wonderful place? In 2029 I will be 75 and I plan to be around, so perhaps this blogging business will start again as 75@75. Because you see, it has been exactly one year since I started this blog and it was only meant to run for a year. The first post was on the 23rd September 2009 - equinox to equinox and I now have to decide whether it is now time to retire 55@55. Is there anything left to say? My first posting had a Neil Young song, bring it on again Neil - after all, it is a Harvest Moon:
It will be the future of telecommunications, I know that. But Skype calls are quite disconcerting. Yesterday's call from the 3 Australian Profs was an odd affair indeed. Business was conducted but one Prof suddenly asked, what's that picture above your left ear? It was in fact Folon's 1977 Prisoner of Conscience for Amnesty International. But the question was asked because Skype is a video link and they could see my face and even into the room that is my study, even see the books on my shelves - hmm. I don't mind but when the gasman calls I will be sure to be sitting by a bare wall which reveals nothing of me. Of course I don't think my study looks like this one, above. Though St Augustine might have been a good Skyper. Can you imagine him sitting here saying, "Give me chastity and continence, but not yet..." via your computer screen rather than through the weighty tomes of his writings - an utterance rather than a finely transcribed narrative? Hmm, again, what does that say about discourse. Still, I do rather like this paining of St Augustine. Its by VittoreCarpaccio, 1502. And yet while I don't aspire to be the great man I am drawn to the study itself for it reminds me of my own in some way. His extraordinary studio is packed with beauty and culture and wealth and religion. Augustine is not an austere, hermit-like pauper scribbling in a cell, but a rich man who enjoys things. Its the sixteenth century yet he enjoys the company of countless books and his symbols of learning, the astrolabe, the figurines in a row, the precious conch, the well-made furniture and the countless ornaments and knick-knacks. His mitre, his crook and his Jesus statue are emblems of piety but they can't disguise the wealth. And in this 21st Century we still have the same trappings, do we not? I like to be surrounded by my things too, as I sit here typing. Though St Augustine also provides a timely reminder, the Pope is here in the UK at present and the piety is all too often overwhelmed by the combination of the disgrace (sexual abuse for a start) and the rich (bling) trappings of the metonym we call the "catholic church". As Augustine also said, "Charity is no substitute for justice withheld." Sigh! Fuck art, let's dance, take it away Salif:
Although I am reminded of this again, just for being the most spiritual piece I have heard in many years and I love the film too. Still don't have a proper translation but its so good I can't resist posting it again - well it is down time Saturday, after all.
Sometimes you just have to blog when you find a new piece of music and this is my new CD from AB next door - Mavis Staples singing You Are Not Alone - wow, she is sooo good. But sometimes other things happen as well. Today I had a skype call from Australia, 3 wimin professors who will be visiting the UK in November and I swear to gawd they were a wee bit tipsy! Of course it was 9pm their time on a Friday night and they had drunk champagne but phew, have to say in all truth - I couldn't get a word in edgeways! Still, its good to know you are not alone - even if they are 10,000 miles away in Adelaide - I love this song and the live version has such charm.
Ok, the video below is the most boring ever but the music is just divine and I couldn't resist blogging it because I have been listening to it while working and reading and re-reading... As Baudrillard says, "There is always some doubt about the reality of our pleasure, about the strength of our will. Curiously, though we are never completely certain, the other's pleasure somehow seems less doubtful..." Hmm, and here was I thinking everyone was having more fun than I, only to realise they think that about me - well I never... after listening to this again I am going to play one of these guitars just for the fun of it - and anyone reading this can be jealous - I would hate to let Baudrillard down, after all!
The weekend brought a conference in Loughborough which isn't the end of the world, but nearly. And The Cedars Hotel wasn't the worst I have stayed in, but nearly. Thank goodness for good company and drouthy neighbours who made it all bearable. The conference paper went down very well indeed and we were very pleased with it but the conference itself was a bit of a mixed bag, Brassani and Phillips a wee bit of a let down (though not completely). Laugh of the conference came unintentionally from JW my co-presenter. As we walked to one of the many sessions we were asked, "are you coming to Repressed Desires?" To which she replied, "No we have come the wrong way..." well perhaps you had to be there but the panel found it hilarious. But a lot of the time was spent thinking that loads of people have no idea what they are talking about. The panelists were generally younger than me (in real years though not in academic) but there was a lot of naivety and we actually felt quite grown up. Perhaps we have finally grown into our professorial clothes - indeed after the Icarus paper I was complimented on my lavender jumper by Asa from Sweden (who was one of the good eggs) - although I confess during one paper I kept reflecting on Nick Cave singing God Is In the House (which, we agreed, seemed well appropriate - which is why I have re-posted it here - "we have bred all our kittens white, so you can see them in the night...) But now its back to work - modules to design and organise for teaching; research to be done; books to be read; writing to get started and an office to be moved - humph. Think I might take today easy and read a Phd or an MA. But last night I found myself sitting quietly reading and "happenstance" its been a long time since I read this by Wallace Stevens, Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock : The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, Or yellow with blue rings. None of them are strange, With socks of lace And beaded ceintures. People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles. Only, here and there, an old sailor, Drunk and asleep in his boots, Catches Tigers In red weather.
Well the holiday season is definitely over - D. has gone back to school and A. will be in college soon - though she is currently in Cyprus to play tennis. This is here first trip on her own and she is sooooo excited but its scary stuff. Speaking on Skype last night she said, "...hang on someone's at the door." after some muffled conversation she came back to the computer to talk. I asked if she had put the chain on the door before opening it - "...there isn't one she replied." Gawd! luckily it was only Skye Hopper (yup that's her name) she is an Aussie tennis player. A. meets her all over Europe and they have become friends. But groan, you have to shut it out of your mind if you are not to worry, and A. to be honest is seventeen going on twelve (sometimes). But its been a good summer for me, novel finished (fingers crossed); other book deal signed (Routledge); papers given, "Fear of Flying Falling and Laughter"; papers written, "Icarus in ellipses..." and "Intimacy and the Icarus Effect" with Prof J.W., which we will give at a conference this week - which we are planning to collect into a book of some sorts (we hope). And hey its just occurred to me - Icarus was a sky hopper - hmmm, serendipity/osmosis/coincidence? But of course not everything has gone well - for example I seem to have eaten all the pies (judging by my belly). So the Autumn signals the need to lose 6 lbs, I will be exercising and all that stuff so watch this space - but I am actually looking forward to it. I love this song and the vid from Lucinda Williams:
Holidays are times for doing the things you wouldn't normally, so hurtling through the air on a flying fox, then dropping into a boat on the lake before returning home for lunch seemed just about right. However, it also means you get to wear wacky clothes and hats, like these (above). The question is, though, how do your kids still manage to look great in such a get up? I don't know, maybe its just me. I wanted to post this version of the Tom Waits song, Time, but the embed has been disabled. So if you want to hear Tori Amos singing Time, here it is. Not many people cover Tom better than this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkivthzN49I&feature=relatedAt the weekend I finally managed to finish another paper - entitled, "Icarus in ellipses..." for the AAWP conference in Melbourne, Australia which I am very much looking forward to (if I can get the money to go). But in preparing material for the paper I wrote to the previously posted Karine Polwart (Scottish singer) and asked her for permission to quote her lyrics from the song Beo and she replied saying she was delighted - how's that, isn't email great. It almost seems disrespectful to post the song here but I will and urge you to buy it - this is such a great little clip because it also includes We are All Leaving, which is the song she wrote for the Darwin Song Project. By the way, "Beo" is Gaelic for "life" or "live" - though she didn't know that when she wrote the song - strange thing the subconscious, its as if the word arrived by osmosis:
Abbi is home and Dan is head-over-heels about it. I can always tell because he plays football and he is better when she is around - even though she doesn't come to watch. Still its good to know they get on so well. He had a letter in his bag this week. Turns out he was only 2 marks shy of an A* in Chemistry and he had a chance to re-sit one paper. I saw the letter yesterday, the re-sit
exam was the day before. He didn't even know what was in it, he just forgot to give it to me - oh well, that's my boy. And this is them together. It's Abbi's 17th birthday and butter wouldn't melt. The music today was sent to me by someone who had a bicycle crash - well she tangled with a kangaroo which has to be the funniest was of wrecking your bike - Tom Waites, always a good egg and such a good song. Sometimes I feel as though I should write something more profound like wot Delueze does but I am too tired to think. It has been a long day researching, writing, working, reading and getting groceries otherwise we wouldn't eat. Got some cheese Grommit... och! Broken bicycles, old busted chains, with rusted handle bars, out in the rain; somebody must have an orphanage for all of these things that nobody wants any more... he's such a good writer... sigh!
