2016 # 5

When I am down in Winchester I stay in this great little house which belongs to my friends Geoff and Terry, who live in Oregon. Last night, around three in the morning, I awoke to the whole house shaking followed by a cocophany of grinding machinery. I have no idea what a world would feel like if tanks moved in but that came to mind as I rose from the deep sleep I was in. And then I remembered. The house is very near to the railway line and they are carrying out repairs through the night. Phew, while the sound of industry at three in the morning is a little disconcerting - and it plays havoc with sleep - I count the blessing that I live in such a safe world. I am still working on the Boat project with a view to help others, especially children, to understand the plight of others whose life isn't quite so settled. When you get into a project like this you forget how difficult it is to pull all of the threads together. I am working with the artist, Stephanie Morris, and Adelaide Morris is running the project management and we seem to hop from meeting to meeting, yesterday it was three hours in Winchester, followed by a summing up, grabbing a bite to eat as we worked - sometimes it feels like chasing a bubble in Central Park, NY (pictured above). And still there is more to be done, more people to meet and more things to consider. Its a wonder any art ever gets to the stage where it can be presented to the world. But it will be worth all the effort in the end - and the Discovery Centre in Winchester have confirmed not one but two dates. And so, having risen early, thanks to the railway company, its another morning of teaching. Have a good Wednesday - or if you read this later, I hope your Wednesday was fab. When I am away from home, sitting around in the early morning with sleep evading, I like to listen to different things. This I adore, the saxophone laced around a plainsong is astonishing. Do give it a moment in the quiet:

2016 # 4

Up at 4.30 for the drive to Winchester and I was greeted by a haunting moon lighting up the kitchen. This is it pictured through the rose bush that is beginning to take over the back door. I like the dark and I especially like the dark in the morning. This picture bodes well because it means there is a clear sky and should signal optimism. But there is something gothic about it too. Its been the strangest of weekends, barely light, tons of work to do, marking, applications to write and then it starts all over again. But that's ok. Starting from now this could be a twenty-hour day. First the drive, early morning meetings, teaching 12-6 then from 6.45pm I am reading and singing at a Burns event in Winchester (The Art Cafe - opposite the Discovery Centre if you are around) but who knows when it will finish. I wrote a new song yesterday, working on a straight country feel with another ghost on the bridge lyric, strange how an idea grabs hold and won't let go. Happy Monday, time to re-post one of the best (in my opinion) songs ever written - well its all about the moon pictured here:

2016 # 3

'Millions prepare for potentially 'paralysing' east coast winter storms,' rings The Guardian heading this morning. Its a bit scary for them and hazardous and all that, of course, and its only a whimsical notion on my part, but I could think of worse things than to be cocooned in a blanket of snow for three days where I would read (Robert Frost perhaps) and write and play guitar and make up tunes and drink hot chocolate, goodness, I am already compiling my list. And I am also thinking about those unfortunates who drowned off the coast of Greece yesterday; still trying to cross the Med to a better life, more people drowned yesterday as the 'boat' season extends into winter - can we imagine how desperate these people must be? Am I too late to fly to the East Coast of the USA to get away from thinking; to paraphrase an old Mike Naismith song, Its only a whimsical notion, to fly into Newark tonight, I probably won't fly into Newark, but then again I just might...' Of course I don't really need to get away just yet, having only returned to work, and I am not shirking work because lots of interesting things are going on (especially on The Boat project), I just like the idea of strumming the Martin in the kitchen while the world is quiet. Some readers of the blog might remember this picture (above) from a couple of years back, it was the view from the kitchen. Come on, tell me there is no appeal there compared to the rain we have had with only a little respite for weeks (football off again - we have played 1 game in five weeks). Its too easy to say weather shouldn't affect our moods but of course it does. Its wet out there today and I am happy enough in the kitchen, but it lacks the romance of snow, it lacks the cheeriness of sunshine, it is dreich and that is a word that means as it sounds. After some of the first album I was never a fan of Eagles, I just preferred other things. However, I did like this track and the chorus is appropriate and you know why, Glenn Frey. Whatever your weather, take it easy - this is sunshine music.

2016 # 2

Well, having posted a sunrise yesterday I couldn't resist this - snow in the dark. It may not be much to my northern friends but down here in Brighton this is a treat to waken up to. And its been a weekend of treats. Having been given a Harmonica in the key of F at Christmas I found myself writing a song in the key - a rare thing for me, mostly because as a kid its one of those chords you don't slip into naturally. Anyway, its coming along nicely, be we'll see. Last night we took a trip down the road to the fantastic Duke of York cinema to see Room which Emma Donoghue adapted from her own novel. Fantastic, not perfect, but can be thoroughly recommended. Happy Sunday, I found myself in the mood to listen to Salif Keita. This film shows different weather.

2016 # 1

I haven't written a post on the blog this year, mostly because I have been doing other things. Written some songs, recorded a few and more to go, but generally I have been de-cluttering. Having arrived in 2016 to rain, rain and more rain, I decided to give both my study at home and my study at the University of Winchester a major overhaul. Just as I had finished both, the sun came out (this is a picture taken on my way to work) and as a result of the ensuing catharsis, I  caught a serious dose of cheerfulness. Though I was thinking this morning, it is getting harder to be cheerful. I'm okay, of course, I have a job, health, wealth and a head full of ideas - and indeed I am happy to report that the plan I made over 20 years ago to 'publish' something every year has already kicked in with a book completed (edited with Jen Webb and Jeri Kroll), a new contract to be signed and to be written with Glenn Fosbraey (thank you Palgrave), another article on The Boat Project commissioned and possibly a publication of some prose poetry (which isn't bad for me as the non-poet in the project) and its only January. But as I look out of the kitchen window, while sipping my early grey tea, I see the world is a less happy place than it has been; our government is continuing its kick the poor campaign; war still reigns on the less fortunate elsewhere; the 'boat' season has extended from the summer months and those looking for a better life are risking more and more through winter journeys; fences are going up all over Europe too and anti-immigration rhetoric is really taking hold and now the Church of England has kicked out the Episcopal Church in the USA because they are a little too liberal on the issue of the right to be loving and gay. I never held much of a candle to the Church of England, since the entire idea of it is surely an anachronism that should really die with the idea of a British Empire, but unfortunately, this says much about an organisation which has too much power and wealth in our own country and across the world. But I digress, my own new year's resolution is to do something good every month. I am not saying what it will be or how I have gone about it, but since I have nothing left to 'give up' in the way of the usual vices, I have decided to give. In the meantime, you know why this guy - takes me right back to the Edinburgh Empire, May 1973 - I sigh: