FiftyFive ~ # 31

Being without broad band these past few days – or at least wireless which lets me work undisturbed in my study or in the kitchen – reveals to me that I like being in touch and kept in touch; and also how easily I have succumbed to the Internet umbilical that connects me to the rest of the world. From my desk chair (a rather rickety wooden affair – wouldn’t like to give the wrong impression) I can listen to great music, read the wonderful Emily Dickenson, stay in touch with the important people in my life – and the not so, of course (why do students send you emails at the weekend, there is no separation anymore). And to be truthful much of this blog has been web and internet sourced, especially the wonderful music sites, which I love. The good news is the sun has been shining all day and just to show I remember what that is like, this is a sunny picture of a Greek philosopher (dodgyknees), sitting on his favourite chair, phone near to hand, books and CDs nearby and lots of light streaming in the doors. And then to top it all I choose a sunny track by Joni Mitchell because I am feeling in a sunny mood. Last night I received confirmation that my Inaugural Address – Jesus, Judas, Jimi and John: in delightful chaos is to be published by the highly creditable Text journal – see http://www.textjournal.com.au/ it will be forthcoming this April and that has just set up my spring. Winter has gone, the sun is shining, words are going out to be read and then tonight I am going to Jamie Oliver’s Restaurant in Brighton to eat – to celebrate A. becoming the UK Masters Champion. I swear to god, if I fall off the Pier tonight I will come out with a haddock in my pocket for tomorrow’s supper, along with some samphire for the vegetarians and no doubt a full bottle of Chateau Neuf, uncorked and glinting in the sun will have been washed up on the beach, mmm..., what a good day to be me (and how smug is that) – take a Night Ride Home with Joni - its is an announcement of summer.

FiftyFive ~ # 30

Today I find myself dreaming about weather and sunny climes and warm beaches and t-shirts and my belly in the sun. Dugald Stewart, Professor of Moral Philosophy and Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh wrote in 1813, saying: considerations of the weather and of its common prognostics lead the fancy... to those more extraordinary phenomena which, according to the superstitious belief of the vulgar, are the forerunners of political revolutions... so in thinking about the weather am I really rebelling against the status quo, rebelling against settling for what is and seeking what could be. Hmm, interesting thought - which just goes to show - those philosophers get everywhere. Though I like this one, one from Brendan Behan, because he simplifies sun on the belly to a more basic drive, where "...the most important things to do in the world are to get something to eat, something to drink and somebody to love you." and if it was still Christmas I would post A Fairytale in New York in celebration. But when we think about it, we are pretty lucky to get these things, are we not? And I am not lying under some Haitian car park, or surfing a tsunami, or (well you get the drift) so in that sense then, thinking about the weather is indeed a puerile display of discontent - and how could I be discontented, for I had a seriously fantastic day. I wrote, I worked, I ate and I will drink something later (something more than water and tea - which I am awash with) but most of all - and a Scotsman will walk a long crooked mile before he will admit to being loved - but that happens to be the case - and its nice. And then it all comes around - I want the sun on my belly to heat the outside, just as the inside is warm - and there is the symmetry of the thought for the day. And I am not convinced this will play but it makes me smile - Ah we're drinking and we're dancing and the band is really happening and the Johnny Walker wisdom's running high...

FiftyFive ~ # 29

This might be my last Folon for the week - who can tell, fickle is as fickle does. But yesterday was a day of pondering and thinking and working and I framed this picture too which is now nicely sitting on my wall, facing me as I write - doesn't it have such a haughty look in its eye, beak stuck in the air. But I post it for its upliftings, for the way it lifts the spirits when energy flags. And I think the same about this music clip - from the fantastic Jeff Beck. The whole rhythm of this piece is just right for me - and the playing is sublime, of course and this was representative of us on Saturday night at my lovely friend Kate's fiftieth birthday party in London, all of us friends for most of our adult lives, sharing music and books and walking and talking and beer, lots of beer and now contemplating children flying to University - I will even be teaching one such child next year. And all of us were smiling and happy and dressed in the colours of this bird and laughing and holding nostalgia at bay as we lived in the absolute present. And this track played on the stereo on the long drive back home - no one does it better.

FiftyFive ~ # 28

Imagining a world so massively huge that you can't even begin to question what it means to be living, is indeed a daunting prospect. And this morning, as I wrote, I am overwhelmed by distance and size and space and language. And I was thinking about this when I tried to get these lyrics translated (see below) I adore the song, the melancholy of the melody and it feels like a lament to me - and yet I have absolutely no idea whatsoever - having failed miserably to translate it. But I accompany another version of it with a picture of Folon's guitar too - and for no other reason than I like it and still I will wrestle with the song with its wonderful guitar playing to try to understand it and hear it with knowing ears - but for now it has to be taken in ignorance - though I am aware of Martin Luther King's words, "Nothing at all in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity." Note to self - must try harder! Can try harder! Will try harder!

fôlon, é té nyinika

fôlon, né té nyinika

fôlon, a toun bé kè t'ni dén

fôlon, ko kow koun bé kè

fôlon, môgow ma koté

kouma diougou bé môgo mi kono

hèrè bi môgo mi kono

kongo bé môgo mi laaaaa

fôlon, kow ko koun bi la

fôlon, é koun té sé kô fô.

sissan, é bé nyinika

sissan, né bé nyinika

sissan, an bé bè nyinika

sissan, ko kow koun bé kè

sissan, môgow ma ko bala

FiftyFive ~ # 27 (again)

And then the more you seek the more you find and see and hear and remember and then you get sent things and remember things and the whole delightful chaos of connecting images and ideas becomes another movement - like in Alice's Restaurant; because it becomes clear that in seeing the world in solitude and solitary you do not see the world as a whole but can only pretend to. Continuing the Baudrillard idea of the other, I remember Jacques Derrida writing, "To pretend, I actually do the thing: I have therefore only pretended to pretend..." and this flying man, this birdman, this Icarus figure is experiencing something other than pretence which takes great guts and courage. Camus said, "You cannot create experience, you must undergo it..." but is there time enough for all the flying we desire? And I was reminded of this clip (and another which I will post later) but this film has a great Icarus ending to it - sublime - with a great song too - worth seeing it through to the end - how my heart behaves:

FiftyFive ~ # 27

And another Icarus - or is it a blue angel? Folon called it Les Oiseaux so it is definitely feathered and is that an egg he his holding (or offering). Either way I adore it too - he has a way of capturing ideas that I really like because they are never obvious - in that French way, although he is Belgian (should be was for he died). And then such joy because I stumbled across this little film and the serendipity of it is wonderful - all those men flying and if you follow the last to fall his initial is A and it is a strange coincidence, is it not? But today I post two pieces of music both dedicated to the Folon idea of life - one is a Folon animation and the other is the wonderful Salif Keita and Folon. Sigh - such delightful chaos, making connections and connecting. Buadrillard said, "...the secret of philosophy may not be to know oneself, nor to know where one is going, but rather to go where the other is going; not to dream oneself, but rather to dream what others dream..." Such delightful chaos!