Check out a guitarist called Andy Mckee: one talented and cool guy.
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=Ddn4MGaS3N4
http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=dt1fB62cGbo
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Pace Maker
Week Forty – two: Sunday 15 July – Saturday 21 July
'Life is not everything, is not everything ...', so goes the song with the title I can't remember. True, but quality of life is pretty dam important. Would you rather live to be 150, confined to a wheelchair with someone wiping your arse, et al, for the last 60 of them, or live to 80 and have a full, active, self determined time right up to the second you unexpectedly passed away?
My 87 year-old mother has just had a pacemaker fitted. She didn't want it. Devout Catholic that she is, part of her looks forward to the day she can sit with Jesus Christ and/or the Lord God Almighty and shoot the breeze. Why would she want something that was going to prolong her life on planet earth?
But, the doctor pointed out, it will actually reduce your life expectancy by some margin or another. What it will do is improve you standard of life while you are alive. So she had it fitted. Within a week she was up and about, making the most of the new found energy, drive and release she had. For years, being the classic suffering martyr, she had fought through life by the force of sheer will power. Now she realises she was battling against an irregular heartbeat that could leave her body confused, exhausted and playing catch-up.
At the other end of the spectrum, my three and a bit year old daughter lives her life as if the faeres fit a brand new, state of the art pacemaker to her heart every night when she is asleep. Just starting out in this life, or coming towards the final chapters, we all need to set the right pace, make the pace right for us and others around us.
But we all need to remember, it's a long journey, but a short trip; we need to pace ourselves so we don't meet our maker ahead of schedule.
'Life is not everything, is not everything ...', so goes the song with the title I can't remember. True, but quality of life is pretty dam important. Would you rather live to be 150, confined to a wheelchair with someone wiping your arse, et al, for the last 60 of them, or live to 80 and have a full, active, self determined time right up to the second you unexpectedly passed away?
My 87 year-old mother has just had a pacemaker fitted. She didn't want it. Devout Catholic that she is, part of her looks forward to the day she can sit with Jesus Christ and/or the Lord God Almighty and shoot the breeze. Why would she want something that was going to prolong her life on planet earth?
But, the doctor pointed out, it will actually reduce your life expectancy by some margin or another. What it will do is improve you standard of life while you are alive. So she had it fitted. Within a week she was up and about, making the most of the new found energy, drive and release she had. For years, being the classic suffering martyr, she had fought through life by the force of sheer will power. Now she realises she was battling against an irregular heartbeat that could leave her body confused, exhausted and playing catch-up.
At the other end of the spectrum, my three and a bit year old daughter lives her life as if the faeres fit a brand new, state of the art pacemaker to her heart every night when she is asleep. Just starting out in this life, or coming towards the final chapters, we all need to set the right pace, make the pace right for us and others around us.
But we all need to remember, it's a long journey, but a short trip; we need to pace ourselves so we don't meet our maker ahead of schedule.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Quote of the Week # 34
Take a dog's attitude to life.
Whatever you come across, if you can't eat it or screw it, piss on it and walk away.
Unattributed.
Whatever you come across, if you can't eat it or screw it, piss on it and walk away.
Unattributed.
Make-up Mayhem
Week Forty - one: Sunday 8 July – Saturday 14 July
It's game over for me.
A wise lecturer by the name of Derrek Hines mentioned at the start of the MA Professional Writing course that girls suss sexuality and other issues of importance by about the age of three. Boys, he added, on the other hand get a rough handle on such matters by the time they are thirty - if they are lucky. I had to agree, based on my own experiences with my now three and a half year old daughter. Not a problem; one of the main reasons I am pleased to have a daughter and not a son.
Last week Auntie Sharon came to visit from Scotland. While Mama Bate wears very limited make-up, preferring the natural look and having had herself caked in make-up for years while she was a semi-professional model, Auntie Sharon is a thoroughly modern woman on the make-up front. Each morning was a ritual of application and refinement of a seemingly never ending range of beauty and skin care products.
My little three going on thirty year old watched Sharon's every move, soaked it all in, as she does everything, and before long was getting Sharon to apply a little of everything on her. Everything being: blusher, mascara, nail varnish, lip stick, eye shadow, foundation, and so it goes on. Now whether by accident or design, Sharon left a couple of items of make-up behind when her visit was over. Knowing Sharon as I have for over twenty years, it was more accident than design - I think!
Anyway, Kumali covered herself, me, her Mama, and a couple of her dolls in all that Sharon had left behind, thank God it wasn't a waxing kit, mimicking what she could remember from her daily observations. And now she talks about make-up all the time, asking if she can buy some of her own!
I'm afraid, very afraid!
It's game over for me.
A wise lecturer by the name of Derrek Hines mentioned at the start of the MA Professional Writing course that girls suss sexuality and other issues of importance by about the age of three. Boys, he added, on the other hand get a rough handle on such matters by the time they are thirty - if they are lucky. I had to agree, based on my own experiences with my now three and a half year old daughter. Not a problem; one of the main reasons I am pleased to have a daughter and not a son.
Last week Auntie Sharon came to visit from Scotland. While Mama Bate wears very limited make-up, preferring the natural look and having had herself caked in make-up for years while she was a semi-professional model, Auntie Sharon is a thoroughly modern woman on the make-up front. Each morning was a ritual of application and refinement of a seemingly never ending range of beauty and skin care products.
My little three going on thirty year old watched Sharon's every move, soaked it all in, as she does everything, and before long was getting Sharon to apply a little of everything on her. Everything being: blusher, mascara, nail varnish, lip stick, eye shadow, foundation, and so it goes on. Now whether by accident or design, Sharon left a couple of items of make-up behind when her visit was over. Knowing Sharon as I have for over twenty years, it was more accident than design - I think!
Anyway, Kumali covered herself, me, her Mama, and a couple of her dolls in all that Sharon had left behind, thank God it wasn't a waxing kit, mimicking what she could remember from her daily observations. And now she talks about make-up all the time, asking if she can buy some of her own!
I'm afraid, very afraid!
Friday, July 13, 2007
Life Is ... Fun In The Family Fold
Week Forty: Sunday 1 July – Saturday 7 July
If an interesting, although mildly disturbing, four days were taken up attending the Cheltenham International Screenwriting Festival at the beginning of the week, the time away only served, as always, to make my return to Falmouth, and my wife and daughter, all the more rewarding.
I met up with an old and dear friend from Scotland at Truro Rail Station on the way back from the 'writers frenzy', travelling with Frea, a fellow weary wanderer, keen to get back to the fold. She had already had a couple of glasses of wine by the time we met; by the time we ate dinner with my wife and daughter, brother Dominic and his son Josef, cleared up, said goodnight and then stayed up till four in the morning reminiscing, Sharon and I had demolished four bottles of a rather fine rioja!
No time for hangovers, or lie ins, when you have a lively and alert three year-old daughter in the house. Kumali woke me nice and early, wanting to go downstairs and do the same to Sharon: so much fun having visitors stay over! And so the rest of the week, from Friday through Sunday, was spent, in between writing, getting reacquainted with the wonderful wife and beautiful daughter I continually count my blessings for having in my life.
On the Friday evening Toni, Kumali, Sharon and I attended the private viewing/opening of the latest art exhibition to be displayed at the excellent Falmouth Arts Gallery. One of the many pictures Kumali has created, and had displayed, during her time at the FAG children's art club was chosen to be hung along with five other lucky and talented youngsters work - within the main exhibition. It was a major thrill to see Kumali's mixed media collage, 'Full Moon', proudly framed and displayed, complete with an information card mounted underneath. A photographer from one of the local papers took her picture beside her masterpiece, and we all basked in the joy of the creative environment and praise being heaped on Kumali for her creativity.
Sunday was spent at Praa Sands Beach, some twenty miles down the coast. Jenny, our ever lovely 'big-girl' sitter, and friend and fellow student, celebrated her birth day with lunch in the local restaurant, along with her delightful partner, Kai, and some of their Norwegian friends. Among the many other fellow students who trapsed along, some with their older children,Emily, was one, and brought her three year old son Jack, who knows Kumali from nursery. Emily's dad's jazz band were also playing; as we tucked in to roast beef or lamb or pork, with all the trimmings, Tony and his jazz buddies, no one under 60, strummed away and the young bucks boogied together on the dance floor. That was followed by a brisk walk on the beach, kicking balls, digging holes and paddling in the water, to work off lunch - then ice-cream!
From those who pass their children over to others to look after from virtually the moment they are born, to those who carry the unresolved pain and hurt of their own childhoods/lives into their children's, there's a lot of parents, and children, missing out on the many good things that come from being a family. Love, attention, support, guidance, love, nurturing, nourishing, love, security, fun, love, love, love.
If an interesting, although mildly disturbing, four days were taken up attending the Cheltenham International Screenwriting Festival at the beginning of the week, the time away only served, as always, to make my return to Falmouth, and my wife and daughter, all the more rewarding.
I met up with an old and dear friend from Scotland at Truro Rail Station on the way back from the 'writers frenzy', travelling with Frea, a fellow weary wanderer, keen to get back to the fold. She had already had a couple of glasses of wine by the time we met; by the time we ate dinner with my wife and daughter, brother Dominic and his son Josef, cleared up, said goodnight and then stayed up till four in the morning reminiscing, Sharon and I had demolished four bottles of a rather fine rioja!
No time for hangovers, or lie ins, when you have a lively and alert three year-old daughter in the house. Kumali woke me nice and early, wanting to go downstairs and do the same to Sharon: so much fun having visitors stay over! And so the rest of the week, from Friday through Sunday, was spent, in between writing, getting reacquainted with the wonderful wife and beautiful daughter I continually count my blessings for having in my life.
On the Friday evening Toni, Kumali, Sharon and I attended the private viewing/opening of the latest art exhibition to be displayed at the excellent Falmouth Arts Gallery. One of the many pictures Kumali has created, and had displayed, during her time at the FAG children's art club was chosen to be hung along with five other lucky and talented youngsters work - within the main exhibition. It was a major thrill to see Kumali's mixed media collage, 'Full Moon', proudly framed and displayed, complete with an information card mounted underneath. A photographer from one of the local papers took her picture beside her masterpiece, and we all basked in the joy of the creative environment and praise being heaped on Kumali for her creativity.
Sunday was spent at Praa Sands Beach, some twenty miles down the coast. Jenny, our ever lovely 'big-girl' sitter, and friend and fellow student, celebrated her birth day with lunch in the local restaurant, along with her delightful partner, Kai, and some of their Norwegian friends. Among the many other fellow students who trapsed along, some with their older children,Emily, was one, and brought her three year old son Jack, who knows Kumali from nursery. Emily's dad's jazz band were also playing; as we tucked in to roast beef or lamb or pork, with all the trimmings, Tony and his jazz buddies, no one under 60, strummed away and the young bucks boogied together on the dance floor. That was followed by a brisk walk on the beach, kicking balls, digging holes and paddling in the water, to work off lunch - then ice-cream!
From those who pass their children over to others to look after from virtually the moment they are born, to those who carry the unresolved pain and hurt of their own childhoods/lives into their children's, there's a lot of parents, and children, missing out on the many good things that come from being a family. Love, attention, support, guidance, love, nurturing, nourishing, love, security, fun, love, love, love.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Give Me Space
Week Thirty – nine: Sunday 24 – Saturday 30 June
Can’t think, struck dumb,
Inspiration won’t come.
Rotten ink, bad pen,
God bless you, amen.
Can’t think, struck dumb,
Inspiration won’t come.
Rotten ink, bad pen,
God bless you, amen.
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