# 33

I have removed a huge, light sapping bay leaf tree (you couldn't call that a bush) from my garden and replaced it with some bamboo which let's the light shine through. And its a morning for light. Its been a rainbow week for equality with the US Supreme Court making same sex marriage a nationwide right. This has a direct affect on all of us because happiness is a right and whether we exercise it through marriage or not this is sunshine moment in a world that has to bear so much. Me I will sit on my bench at the back door and let the sunrise filter through the bamboo and smile on me as I play my guitar while drinking early grey tea. If you listen closely the lyrics to this clip its not quite what it sounds - but of course with a little tweaking everything can be what we want it to be. It was written by one of my favourite songwriters (Lori McKenna) and it will do for this Sunday morning - the back door bench and guitar beckon, I already have the tune and I will be writing another song.

# 32

St George's is an Anglican church in Kemptown and a couple of weeks back I went to see Tom Paxton for the last time (though not the first - and thank you Alasdair Buchan for the tickets). I say last time because he is going to stop touring and I guess this is what happens with age, we see our early heroes dropping out of sight. And funnily enough, I will be going back in September to see another old hero of mine. I was nineteen when I played the Edinburgh University Folk Club (actually I played it twice - later on with my band, Southpaw) and on both occasions the headline act was Allan Taylor. Well he too is playing the St George and its part of a tour to celebrate his 70th birthday. How did we get so old. But his tour has inspired me to re-engage with that side of my life and so this year, having turned 60 with a new Martin guitar, I have been writing new songs, seven so far and I will be teaming them up with a couple of the old ones to record Alias Andy Melrose - a new CD which will be available on the Kitchen Table label - watch this space. But not before I write a new paper for a conference I have to attend soon. This morning I have been reading a 'picture book of philosophy,' by Susan Buck-Morss called, The Dialectics of Seeing, on Walter Benjamin and his arcades project. He had a lot to say about writing for children, in an obtuse kind of way, which is why I am reading the book. Although I am not sure I agree with his take on bourgeois education, bless him. But I think its time I posted an Allan Taylor clip - with a lesson attached:

# 31

Dramatic light and clouds and engineering in Edinburgh last week. Sometimes there is nowhere as dramatic as Scotland. These pictures are of Newhaven Harbour and the Forth Bridges under a raincloud. While I am happy living in Brighton sometimes I long for the brooding north which is in my bones.

Open my eyes

to rainclouds 

and desire,

happed up 

under blankets

stiff with cold,

but warm as toast

beneath and below...

# 30

I don't know a huge amount about architecture, if I am honest. But walking past this building at the University today I was seeing things for the first time. Like the 'eye' on the wall as the sun shines through the circle cut out to show a view of the sky, and look too at the image of the outer curtain sculpture as it reflects off the wall. The other pictures help with the perspective but as I walked up the steps in the sunshine, to an 8am meeting this morning, I was reminded that a University is all about seeing the new, being alert to the new and responding to the world as it changes day to day. In many ways, these pictures help to explain that in a way I could never have designed - but that's okay, we can't all be designers, architects and so on. But I saw the place where I work anew today. Fresh eyes and at 8am I was working on a new project and new ideas and these pictures just become a visual representation of that newness. And newness, seeking the fresh challenge, the new idea, the allusive thought is a real thrill, 'Resting on your laurels is as dangerous as resting when you are walking in the snow,' wrote Wittgenstein, 'You doze off and die in your sleep.' Well, I am not ready to start sleepwalking towards that. But tonight I will park these thoughts and strum my Martin guitar over some lyrics about Amelia Earhart and maybe I will have a gluten free Estrella Damm beer as well, just because I can. I have posted this clip before but I just fancied hearing this version again - rivers flow and rivers run: