Icarus skywriting # 38

I dont think I am very camp, although I have been accused of being so and I guess this picture tries to establish that fact. Well anything for a laugh, I mean how can you put up a sign that says prohibit camping, it just calls for a parodic stance, yes/no (can't you decide). But oh my look at that Majorcan belly, it no longer exists, and those boobs (ooh) but its one of the great mysteries of growing older. Why doesn't anyone tell you about the 'thickening' especially around the middle. I am pouting because my gym work is going very well. And I have been thinking too about writing again (which is very fattening unless you get an exercise regime on the go too). Why am I worried, am I worried, well yes and no, but I am conscious that if I look after my fitness now, in twenty years I will be able to face my demons better. My mother is very poorly and I know that I have only 20 years to catch that up. Hmm, but I wrote another song this weekend so am on a roll. I really like this lady singer and I will get her new album, although at this time of year I have to drop hints instead of just buying - and like my mother, she is a McKenna, and sometimes I feel like the boy in the song who wants to hear this said... hmm, people should grow old but...

Icarus skywriting # 37

I was born free

Giving a public performance after so many years can come to feel like this, standing way off the ground (picture right with a wee man on top). And I had to give such a performance this week, two in fact, one in London and one in Winchester but I am over them now. This was the Winchester one:

I was born north of the border

South of the river and west of the sea

I don’t know if there’s a heaven

But I know what its like to be free

I worked hard on the dayshift

Worked hard on the life I lead

And when I watch the evening sun go down

I know what its like to be free

So don’t bore me with your alibis

Don’t bore me with your lies

‘cos can I stand up for myself

And I know what its like to be free

I never crossed the river Jordan

Never swam in the Red Sea

But when I stand against the mountain

I know what its like to be free

I was born north of the border

South off the river and west of the sea

I don’t know if there’s a heaven

But I know what its like to be free

Its just a little song but it went down ok - I was able to explain how it came about and how it might not be finished in this state but that was just fine. Its been a hard week in many ways but sometimes we need to look back on weeks like this and say, well I did that. That's another thing done. That wasn't so bad. Music from an old friend, 

Hermless

A colleague beat me to a Michael Marra tribute but I post it here nevertheless - its completely 'hermless' - play it and read it, there's never nae bother fae me, the world over could learn from some pawkie Dundee humour...
Hermless 
(Michael Marra) 

Wi' ma hand on ma hert and ma hert in ma mooth
Wi’ erms that could reach ower the sea
Ma feet micht be big but the insects are safe
They'll never get stood on by me

Hermless, hermless, There's never nae bother fae me
I ging to the libry, I tak' oot a book
And then I go hame for ma tea

I save a' the coupons that come wi' the soup
And when I have saved fifty-three
I send awa fifty, pit three in the drar
And something gets posted tae me

Hermless, hermless, There's never nae bother fae me
I dae whit I’m telt and I tidy my room,
And then I come doon for my tea

There's ane or twa lads wha I could cry my chums
They're canny and meek as can be
There's Tam wi' his pigeons, And Wull wi his mice,
And Robert McLennan and me

Hermless, hermless, There's never nae bother fae me
I ging to the libry, I tak' oot a book
And then I go hame for ma tea

Hermless, hermless, there's never nae bother fae me
Naebody’d notice that I wasnae there
If I didnae come hame for ma tea
[REPEAT] 

Icarus skywriting # 36

All gods are invisible...

My cultural week: last week I had the great pleasure of seeing Karine Polwart singing in the Komedia in Brighton. She was fab, such a warm presence and her small band make such a wonderful noise, simple but effective. It was a joy. I read The Daylight Gate by Jeanette Winterson and that too was fab, 16th Century witch trials with a little magic realism (oh and rape) thrown in. And now today I am re-drafting the start of my  novel, which is fun in its own way too. No rape, but a wee bit magic realism too, so trendy these days, everyone should be doing it. But I am also reading some poetry - a collection called News of the Insect World by Susan Hampton and I particularly like the poem, 'Banquet of the Invisibles' with the lines:

All gods are invisible

made from mere suggestion

Ideas of possibilities immediately start to appear. But here is a curious one, at the same time as Susan's book arrived another letter came with 7 postcards celebrating National Poetry Day in Scotland - with each postcard containing a poem on the subject of 'stars'. I am such a lucky boy to have other people looking out for my cultural life. One of the poems is called 'Mother' by Meg Bateman, its in Gaelic:

O gun lasainn de dh'aighear annad

na leigeadh leam d'fhaicinn gu slan

no chan fhaidde thu bhuam nuair a shiubhlas tu

na bha thu rim thaobh a-nochd

and I read this translation, thinking of my own, who is still hospital bound:

I wish I could kindle a joy in you

that would let me see you whole

or you wont be further when you go

than you were tonight at my side 

And if forever, should ever run dry, somewhere the rain will still fall, from the sky... rivers run and rivers flow:

Icarus skywriting # 35

The Good

The Beautiful

The Bad

I am missing my baby who is far away in Oklahoma but I guess I will have to cope. The longer she is away the more she enjoys it. That's the way it has to be. Edinburgh beckoning this week has taught me that too. Ah, but the wonderful Gillian Welch, who is my new best singing babe helps, her delivery is so simple yet awesome, 'that's the way the corn bread crumbles, that's the way the whole thing ends: