Otters And Eejuts
This blog is sometimes a wee bit of a journal too. Little memory joggers for myself, about what’s been happnin’.
And what happened this morning was that I was out sitting waiting for my little meths stove to boil, ready for a morning coffee on a stoney beach a couple of miles from Campbeltown. I sat watching the sun slowly rise, somewhere between the Isle of Arran over to the left and Ailsa Craig over to the right. In the foreground were the cliffs of Davaar Island, accessible at lower tides just a half mile back towards the town.
It was such a lovely place to be at that moment. But then, as they say, the cherry on the cake revealed itself…um…on top of the cake.
A couple of otters appeared playing about 20 metres away, right in front of me. And then they started thinking they were dolphins, and did this amazing thing of swimming under water, and then shooting up out in an arch before swimming beneath the surface again. Just beautiful. And the sea as calm as it gets. A few minutes of magic.
None of this would have happened if I hadn’t left the comfort of home after tea the night before, walked out to a nice camping spot a bit further on from where this story began, put up my tent, and slept there the night.
I’ve usually settled for the short term comfort option when I’ve been thinking about doing something similar to this in the past. What an eejut I’ve been, when I’m so lucky to live where I live.
And how much else have I missed?
Like otters randomly surfing the seashore, a few more thoughts on this topic tomorrow.
Trying It Out In The Garden
I got this little wood “gasifier” stove which can turn the twigs you find when hiking and camping into a quick and efficiently burning fuel.
It took me a long time to get it going. Then at the point I got it going I realised that everything was the wrong way round. At which point I had to get it un-going, in order to sort out that mess, before getting it going again.
When it was going properly I got myself enough water boiled for a nice cup of coffee in just a couple of minutes. But it had taken me forty minutes to get to that point.
I KNOW I can bring that time down!
But, the moral of this story is: don’t take on a gig that you’re not ready for until you’re ready for it.
Try it out in the garden first.
No Permission Needed
We don’t need to ask permission from teacher to go to the toilet anymore (should we ever have had to?).
But still we easily carry around in our heads the idea that we need the go ahead from somebody in authority before we try any of the crazy ideas that might pop up in there. Anything that feels new and different from the norm can have that “Permission Needed” aura hanging over it.
. As a result most, if not all, of the crazy ideas that do enter our amazingly creative noggins, many of which might not have been so crazy after all, remain…well, stuck right there… in that cool, dark, safe place inside our skulls. Sadly, they never see the light of day.
And maybe they would have failed miserably. Who knows?
But we will never found out.
BTW. You don’t need my permission to hold a Homesong in your house.
The Graveyard Crawl
At the end of my almost daily walk is a place where I pause for a while. There’s a beautiful view through the trees across Campbeltown Loch, past Davaar Island that guards the mouth of the loch, and onwards to the Isle of Arran.
And down below, in front of all of that lies Campbeltown graveyard. A beautiful place to be buried if you get the choice. But also a very good place to contemplate death and all its accoutrements while you are still alive.
I often hear the sound of the gravel underneath the cars that drive slowly along the track around the graveyard while I’m sitting up among the hillside trees. This tongue in cheek, black humoured lyric started coming to me a couple of days ago as I sat and watched.
The Graveyard Crawl
Well the gravel dies
Underneath the tires
As they slowly drive
Along the track
I’m afraid to say
There ain’t a hope in hell
That you’ll be coming back
It’s the graveyard crawl
The graveyard crawl
Comes to us all in the end
The graveyard crawl
The graveyard crawl
I’m so glad you were my friend
Till the very end.
There a hole somewhere
Enough room to spare
They’re gonna put you there
Then fill it in
I’m afraid to say
That heavens above
And you’re not getting in
Chorus: It’s the graveyard crawl etc
You weren’t a bad guy
Maybe not a good guy
But still, we’ll all cry
A little tear
I’m afraid to say
There’s every chance
You’ll still be here next year
It’s the graveyard crawl etc
Well this song goes slow now
Coz I’m about to go now
And you’ll be sad now
All dressed in black
I’m afraid to say
There ain’t a hope in hell
That I’ll be coming back
It’s the graveyard crawl
The graveyard crawl
Comes to us all in the end
The graveyard crawl
The graveyard crawl
And I’m so glad
You were my friend
Till the very end.
The End.
That Sort Of Thing
If you ever feel embarrassed when you are the centre of attention, then join the club. In fact I think that there are very few people who automatically come alive under the spotlight. Maybe that originates from school experiences, when avoiding putting our hands up and getting the answer wrong or making a fool of ourselves in front of classmates was generally the order of the day.
Not many of us were taught by teachers like Mr. Keating, played by the great Robin William’s, in Dead Poet’s Society. The sort of leaders who bravely break through the accepted etiquette and behavioural rules, not for the sake of it, but to help others to grow and to overcome fear.
Without that kind of help, it’s something that we have to teach ourselves. Because, as it was for the young men in the film, so it often is for us: learning to be more comfortable under the spotlight can be a small step on the way to standing up for something that really matters.
I happen to think we need more of that sort of thing.
James Robertson
This is just my little tribute to the landlord of a local pub who sadly died recently.
The Kilbrannan Bar was the place one of my sons and I went to watch football on many occasions before Covid. James Robertson was always very welcoming, and did his utmost to accommodate us (usually to watch Man Utd) even when Rangers or Celtic were playing. My son, who is not always comfortable in social situations, was especially made welcome, both by James and the regulars at the pub.
It is always the little things that make the difference. And it is for the little things that I’m immensely grateful.
Sadly, for various reasons, we hadn’t been back to the Kilbrannan since the Lockdown period. Thankfully I had been able to express my gratitude to James on previous occasions.
Today, it’s Hat’s Off to the big fella. And my heart felt sympathies to Elaine and to his family and close friends.
Army Dreamers
To my mind there is a fundamental difference between conscripting citizens of a country to attack another country or to defend their own land.
Most people would stand up to fight for friends, family, and freedom when it is directly threatened by violent forces against their own nation. As those in the Ukraine continue to do.
But there is no shame, in fact, I would suggest exactly the opposite, in refusing to fight when your own country is the pro-active aggressor in a land that has offered no direct threat to your own.
I was reminded of this when watching one of the brilliant works of art yesterday, both the song and the videoed choreography, that Kate Bush created and performed on TOTPs back when I were just a lad. Genius.
Gary Carey, who played a Homesong here in Campbeltown last weekend, has also written one of the best songs I’ve heard on the subject.
nb You will notice, particularly in Gary’s lyric, how nothing needs to be spelled out. The message, the fundamental futility of war, is all the more powerful, because it is unspoken.
The Big Release
This is a very personal take, but I try to avoid Big Releases.
And when I haven’t, I’ve always regretted it.
Making a big song and dance about a song (or anything we hype up) means that our personal expectations and hopes are of course heightened, and the potential for disappointment so much greater. Not just for ourselves, but for anyone else involved, and particularly for the listeners, who might want to like the latest new song, but find that actually, on this occasion, they’re really not very keen on it.
When it comes to releasing creative material I prefer to drip feed, as and when the material is ready. It’s not very spectacular, but it keeps my focus on the songwriting, the recording and the enjoyment of the whole process. And afterwards, any reactions to it feel more authentic and meaningful.
I’d rather somebody else, and not me, said…”blimey, that’s bloody, brilliant mate”.
The Big Release begs the question, but might get the wrong answer.
nb. I don’t mind telling folk that I’m planning to try to fly to the moon though. That’s a different kettle of fish. I want to be held to account by somebody if I don’t live up to my promises. And likewise, I don’t struggle with the announcer giving the performer a big build up, as long as it’s realistically big, and believable.
A New Tactic?
If you are in the digital online social media world, as most of us are, you will be offered a million Tactics for promoting your music (your business, your book, your art…or just….Your Self).
Any one of these tactics might be something that helps you.
But… it can be a real weight off of the shoulders, to forgo the use of those kind of tactics… and simply to be yourself, write your book, sing your song, paint your picture…do your Thang… in a world of real life connections and friendships.
One in which word of mouth (real words coming out of actual mouths) is the means of sharing and passing on all of the good stuff.
That’s a new tactic I’ve discovered.
Box Of Delights
The morning after the night before.
A Homesong weekend has just been experienced, that was the usual unique box of delights. Wonderful from start to finish with new memories made and friendships strengthened and deepened. And some absolutely lovely music.
At some point you should stop taking my word for it.
If you are a songwriting performer, find somebody who would be prepared to have you come and play at their house. Those people do exist, even if they don’t realise quite yet that they are The Person For The Job.
And if you simply love music, and are community orientated, then maybe you are That Person. Get in touch with an artist you like and know (or even one that you don’t know) and see if they would like to come and play in YOUR living room.
You won’t have to look far. In particular anybody who has already played some form of Homesong gig, will undoubtedly be up for more opportunities to do so.
It’s just how it is.
Digital algorithms, Facebook friends and Youtube vids are all well and good. But nothing beats live music. And live music that is up close and personal, in a small venue (like a living room, or an outhouse), with real life friends and neighbours, is best of all…in my exceedingly humble opinion.
Thankfully, I’m not alone in thinking that.
You’ve Got A Friend
Got distracted for a couple of days from writing my Homesong blog. Ironically, because I’ve been hosting some Homesong gigs here in Kintyre.
And I’d forgotten. How quickly that can happen.
Forgotten how magical it can be. That wonderful combination of a small, listening audience, and two original singer/songwriters doing their thing.
To me it feels far more than a mere music gig. More like a life affirming gathering of human beings, sharing an unrecorded, in the moment, completely unique experience of songs and friendship.
Each one is different.
Thanks to Gary and Kevin for making this one so special.
Life Is A Privilege
I occasionally speak about, and often allude to, the subject of maintaining good mental health. Because doing so has needed to be an ongoing part of my own life.
When the malaise hits, one of things I’ve started to try and do, is to remind myself of this simple fact:
Life is a privilege.
I don’t personally believe that it was destiny that I exist. Nor inevitable.
I exist by virtue of a billion, trillion, choices and chances that occurred over vast amounts of time…any one of which could have gone in a different direction and meant that I wasn’t here:
To feel, good and bad.
To see, beauty and horror.
To experience, excitement and mundanity. To think. To smell. To taste. To touch.
To hope.
To write these words.
To sing a song.
I am, or if I’m not, I can choose to be, very grateful for this privilege.
In The Long Run
The amount of organisation, resources, energy, time, and, yes, even creativity, needed to wage a war over another nation is truly immense.
So much effort made for something so destructive and life destroying.
How easily do I, in comparison, run out of energy when attempting to do something that is intended to be life enhancing.
Too easily is the easy answer to that one.
Is hatred, malice, greed and lust for power really a more motivating force than our own seemingly innocent and positive plans?
Anger born from hatred can, for varying periods of time, focus great bursts of energy individually and collectively. Though very negative, it’s a natural emotion. But, in the long run, the evidence seems to demonstrate that a positive desire to live, and specifically to live in peace, will always overcome a desire to tear down and destroy.
But it can be a real fight to make it through to the long run. That’s for sure. Often easier to hide way from it all.
It’s always better, and the fight more easily won, when we work together.
The Slow Cooker
Setting the slow cooker to low means
- preparing early
- time to spare
- having patience
- using less energy
- something to look forward to
- extra flavour
- tenderness
And not rushing dinner when it finally arrives.
Strangely slowing down becomes more important the further down the road that we’ve travelled.
Songs To Fill The Air
I’d forgotten what it was like.
A Homesong coming round at the weekend, two wonderful musicians and friends coming up to play….and that nagging uncertainty about who is going to turn up to watch on the night.
I must admit, it’s not a feeling I enjoy.
In the end, it has always been “alright on the night”. And I know my guest performers aren’t going to complain, whatever the turnout.
That’s not the point though. After all this time, I wish I could provide more guarantees, both because the musicians deserve it, and for my own peace of mind. Ingenious solutions on a postcard please.
But we’ve been here before. Whatever happens, there will be songs to fill the air.
And that’s a lovely thing to remember.
A Hit And Miss Affair
I’ve got a pal who has a very nice way of telling me that he LOVES a couple of songs I’ve recorded…but not the rest of them really.
And that is how it works with creativity, and more specifically, with putting the thing we’ve created out into the world. We aren’t in control of how other people react to those creations.
It’s a hit and miss affair. And often it is mainly misses.
In the past I would probably have managed to ONLY hear the fact that my friend doesn’t think much of most of material.
These days, well….hey, I’ve got a couple of HITS in my repertoire. Result!
And here’s one of them, according to Neil.
ps. But if we consider the possibility that SOMEBODY (possibly a different somebody each time) will have the same reaction as Neil, but with different favourites, then, really, it’s could be HITS all the way baby!
Breaking Free
It’s hard to see clearly. It’s hard to say what really matters.
As we grow up we all have anchor points…ones that can be good or bad…that help us to find our feet and establish our place in the world. The main one being our parents or guardians, and the world view we develop from them and the culture we grow up in.
Gaining maturity as individuals is all about learning to let go of those anchor points and find our own paths.
But it can be hard to see clearly or know what really matters. And it can be hard to let go. So we often latch on like limpets, emotionally and mentally, to people, or ideas, or institutions, that don’t help us to grow at all. Instead, in some areas of life, they keep us, both as individuals and as societies, locked at an infantile level of maturity.
I think we all have these areas where we are held back to some degree. I’m sad when I notice it in myself. Or when I see it in the culture I’m a part of. It feels like a cause for mourning really.
And personally, I want to break free.
Give Me A Second
Roughly 3 Billion seconds. That is how long it would take you to reach the ripe old age of 93. If, that is, you haven’t already reached it! But there is quite a possibility these days that you might get there. Give it a shot anyway!
3 Billion seconds is a hell of a long time.
So when anyone says : ”Just give me a second” they are not really asking for very much.
In fact a million seconds amounts to a little over 11 days. Again, in the grand scheme of things, quite affordable. Although a bit more of a commitment.
Lots of things we can do with our seconds. Other than count things.
Chances are that one of the things I’m going to do with mine, is to write a song called 3 Billion Seconds.
In The Loop?
To stay In The Loop you allegedly need to:
Tag, Link, Share, Network, Message, Build Contacts, Email, Promote, Youtube, Spotify, Instagram, Tweet, Facebook, TickTock, Advertise, Like, Market….Blog. And repeat.
Of course, most people throughout history have managed to lead full and often successful lives without ever doing any of these things as a “strategy”. Or even as a pass-time.
Is it possible or desirable to manage without in this era? Well, that’s for us each to decide on an individual basis.
But it would be interesting for most of us to look through the list, and ask what would change if we removed each of those aspects of modern communication from the equation.
Perhaps we’d get a better idea which of these modernities enhance our lives. And which detract from them.
Either way, The Off Switch is always an option.