Two By Two

So here’s a new idea. It’s not even fresh out the oven. It’s still at the pounding the dough stage. For now I’ll call it Two By Two.

I’ve always wanted to build a more communal Homesong experience for artists. I felt that in all the Homesongs I’ve hosted, we touched on that experience the most when Rosie Nimmo and Norman Lamont came to play in Kintyre, and then later with Gary Carey and Kevin Farrell. Those felt far less of a lonely experience for me, even though I was playing the usual organising host role. I think it was more of a shared experience all round for everyone.

So maybe the seed was planted there, but it just sprouted up after reading an article Kevin Farrell linked to recently on Facebook. That’s your background reading!

The Idea
Two artists who live in similar locations link up, and then connect with two other artists somewhere else. Each pair would commit to organising two gigs over a weekend (each responsible for one, but working with each other) either in their homes, or someone else’s home, or even a more public location. Each pair of artists would go on separate weekends to play at the other hosts gigs.

Even though I thought the big task of “Homesong” was to find music loving hosts, I have increasingly come to realise that it is we, the performers, who are the most motivated to “find an audience”. And it really is our responsibility alone. We can’t wait to be “found” when the amount of music being made out there is so immense.

It’s on us. But why not make it a shared thing?

That’s it really at the moment. Maybe I just need to get the ball rolling to see if it works. I think I will. But, of course, I don’t know if IT will. That’s the nature of ideas for you, even if they get past the “pounded dough” stage.

They’ve still got to survive the oven!

Blue Or Grey

I got a phone call just now, which reminded me of a low moment in the lives of ourselves and one of our foster children. A moment when everything could have fallen apart.

But it didn’t, and that particular foster child has come a long way, and as an adult still comes round to visit. In fact at the moment he’s helping me out with a project in the back garden.

The bad moments in time are just that. Moments. Clouds. They pass by, and they don’t have to define anything in the long term.

That is also true of any “bad” moments we experience today. In fact, in that respect they are just the same as “good” moments.

They will all contribute to this experience that we call life. And while we are right to try and make things better, we should also fully live the experience of that which already is. However it presents itself.

Whether Blue Or Grey, the sky is full of wonder.

Doing What I Can

Yesterday I released my 131st song on the fourth of the month in a row. I get a lot of positive feedback about the quantity and consistency of my output. Go me. If nothing else, I’m prolific. In fact that’s often how I’m introduced.

They say build it and they will come. But the truth is that, outside the crazy pseudo popularity world of hyper-hype and mass-marketing, they will only come if you build something so remarkable that even your worst enemy is talking about it with her friends.

And I haven’t made anything that good yet. I don’t even know if I ever will, or even if I am capable of it.

But it doesn’t matter. Because I’m Doing What I Can do right now. And I like doing it.

Free Speech

I have a recommendation today: a podcast called The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling.

It centres upon an extended interview with the author of the Harry Potter books, but is a simply fascinating insight into the way in which a very confused, divisive, sometimes violent and frightening culture has developed online and offline during this age of the internet.

It covers every view point possible, and really lets them all speak for themselves. But if it has a message, it is the absolutely vital importance of upholding the opportunity for Free Speech to every kind of view point, including those we vehemently disagree with.

I haven’t reached the end. It’s a very extensive series. But it provides very useful insights on almost every aspect of modern culture for anyone who has the time or inclination.

A Pile Of Junk?

A Pile Of Junk?

A house clear-out can feel like that.

Lots of “things”.

But all of those things had once been created. And though many of those creations came into being because of economics or expediency, some were created with a great deal of care and love.
And all of them have held some meaning to the previous resident. At least at the point of acquisition.

We could try and look at those “things” through their eyes, and discover why they may have mattered. Maybe it’s impossible to tell. Creativity in a pile, will usually still seem like a pile of junk from the outside looking in.

And the value within can take time, focus and energy to uncover.

We can try and spend that time.

Or it can all go to the tip.

Sometimes Stuck

Is there always something to say?
Or are we Sometimes Stuck
Gazing across this chasm of silence
Without a bridge to take us over to the other side?

Clearly not.

There always seems to be a bridge. Even if it is constructed from the creaky planks and fragile threads of ignorance and desperation.

But at least whilst crossing over
We have the chance to learn for a moment

-the sensation of vulnerability
-a little humility.
-to allow everything to remain as it is.

Words, for better or worse, change things.

That’s their job. But they too sometimes need to rest.

The Gather

Last night I was at a lovely “open mic” called The Gather, 40 miles up the road in Tarbert. That counts as a local event for us.

There was an Australian comedian.
A local choir who took several starts to start for each tune.
A songwriter friend who cracked everybody up with his funny songs.
Three older poets who cheerily read their poignant, uplifting poems.
A local guy who borrowed my guitar to do some covers, a little bit drunker as the evening went on.
A young lassie who read an Angela Mayou poem, and a lovely one she had written.
And me.

It was an effort to get there. And it wasn’t an actual gig. But it was undoubtedly worth getting out the front door for.

I’ll be back.

Who’s There?

Why did the chicken cross the road?
I don’t know. Why?
To visit the idiot.

Knock Knock.
Who’s There?
The chicken.

Yep. It’s a classic.

And actually, I’ve been visited by the chicken on more than one occasion. Well actually it was a different chicken each time.

They all got roasted.

Ba Dum Tss!

I know. I’m probably more suited to writing songs. But until you try you don’t know.

I did once get a “knock knock” joke into a song though. It’s the one in which I’m Everybody’s Favourite Alien.

Bending A Dream

“I’ve gotta dream, and I put a lot of effort into that dream, and I’ll be damned if I ain’t gonna make that dream happen in the way that I originally intended, even though time has moved on, circumstances have changed, and that dream, in it’s original dreamy state, doesn’t even look like such a good idea to me anymore”.

And there you have the recipe for a restless unhappiness, which can negatively affect everything from personal peace of mind to close relationships.

Bending A Dream, isn’t the same thing at all as trashing it.

And the specifics of how we learn to adapt and flex our dreaming muscles will vary for all of us. But nobody wants or needs an arthritic dream.

Live With It

For those who have experienced it, depression is an often stormy sail through a sea of dark emotions. But the worst of all is when the tears stop falling and the winds cease. And fog descends.

And then it’s hard to feel anything. You really want to feel something.

I never thought I would leave that particular sea. I honestly didn’t. Or if I did, it wouldn’t be via the “keep on living” route.

But I did.

And here you find me, the fairly cheery soul I am today, albeit very aware of the sorrow and confusion in the world. I get sad about that still it’s true. But the thing that makes me saddest is the kind of cynicism that fears or sneers, or simply cannot believe, in the possibility of positive change. Personal or communal.

”The World Is Crap. Live with it”.

Maybe I’ve become like the ex-smokers who become a pain in the arse, preaching about the virtues of a smoke free life (I’ve been that guy too).

But, anyway, this is who I am. Live With It. I have to! ;-)

Stuck In My Head

I had a nice comment from someone about a melody of a song I’d written being “Stuck In My Head”.

It’s always good to know that something you’ve created, or said, or sung is memorable. Who doesn’t want to be remembered for something?

But as I get older it’s not enough in itself. If I’m going to do something that has an impact I want it to be something that makes a life better, leads to reflection and positive change, heals, or brings joy and peace.

I hope that isn’t too grandiose. But if it is then you’ve got me. I’m a grandiose bugger, detached from reality.

But it’s really not difficult to do something that someone will remember for a moment or two. Go for a walk down the street in your underwear, and make that kind of impact.

I’d much rather be there at the start of a ripple effect which stretches so far that its initial beginning is soon forgotten. I don’t want to make memes. I want to make fertile memes. And I happen to think that we’re all capable of doing that.

I know it’s hard, nearly impossible sometimes, to believe in positive change when confronted by our own experiences and the world out there that we keep hearing about. But these days, that’s the kind of change I do seem to find myself believing is possible.

Most Of The Time.

Advice From Beyond

I’ve been reading through my previous blogs in an attempt to archive and organise. In doing so I frequently bump into comments from my friend Steve Byrne who, as I mentioned a few days ago, has just passed away. All sorts of little encouragements, and “Steve-isms” to be found there. I’m going to miss them too.

Here’s one little piece of practical advice he dropped. It felt a little bit like Advice From Beyond.

“If you take the time to write down all your failures in your chosen field, and then your successes, you will find the failures far exceed the successes. If you then get someone else to look at the list they will add to your successes and cross out most of your failures. You have achieved more than you realise”.

Steve was always crossing out my failures, and reminding me of my successes. I’d like to get into the habit of doing that more myself. It would feel like I’d be honouring his memory in the process.

Finish On A High

It’s the last week of a recent song challenge I’ve been part of. I wanted to Finish On A High. This is they lyric of the song from yesterday.

See You On The Summit

There’s a big, wide world out there
But you don’t stand and stare
From your window, oh no no
I know your head is full of cares
Well that’s something you share
With me, yeaheheaah

So you open the door
You go for a walk
Breathe  air in your lungs 
Before you know it
You’re climbing that hill
Feeling the wind
Starting to fly
Like Halley’s Comet

I’ll see you on the summit
I’ll see you on the summit

Oh the crazy things we do
And there’s always new directions
To plummet oh no, no
But I knew we’d see it through
And it helps when I see you
Went and done it, yeaheheaah

You opened the door
Went for a walk
Breathed  air in your lungs 
Before you knew it
You’re climbing that hill
Feeling the wind
Starting to fly
Like Halley’s Comet
              
I’ll see you on the summit
I’ll see you on the summit

Only one life 
So bang that gong
And sing along with me
Only one life
So bang that gong and
Let the mountain
Let the mountain
Set you free

Open the door
Go for a walk
Breathe  air in your lungs 
Climbing that hill
Feeling the wind
Starting to fly
Open the door
Go for a walk
Breathe  air in your lungs 
Now you’re climbing that hill
Feeling the wind
Starting to fly
Like Halley’s Comet

I’ll see you on the summit
I’ll see you on the summit
I’ll see you on the summit
I’ll see you on the summit

Better Letters

I play an online scrabble game against the computer. After I’ve played my move I can check if I did the best move possible. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t. But I almost always try to do the best move I can. And when I don’t try enough, it’s not for lack of trying.

Even when I try hard though, and even when I make the best moves possible, the computer still wins sometimes. Because the computer sometimes has Better Letters than me. And all the best moves.

There are things that we control in life. And many things we can’t.

So be kind to yourself.

Random Thought

Random Thought: What if someone you respect tells you that such and such an artist is a living genius? But you don’t like that artist’s work, even if you can appreciate the point.

Is it a bad reflection on your own taste?

Is “genius” in the field of The Arts a subjective opinion or an objective fact?

Well my own take, as I ask myself the question, is that there are far more important things to be worrying about.

I mean, really, there are.

nb. And here’s a guilty secret (one of many!): I’ve got a wee pipe dream to write a song for The Netherlands entry to the Eurovision Song Contest. And win the bugger. I know! What’s all that about? That would be genius, wouldn’t it?

I Is Stupid

I tried to do a search for a video on Youtube, but with my “Firestick” on the tv. I was looking for a short half hour video - “Didi - The North Face” - which a friend had recommended. And which I recommend too.

As I typed out the letters - not with a keypad but that much slower way, when you laboriously click across to find each letter one at a time - you’ll know this - suggestions began to appear in a side panel.

And you’d think that when the “i'“ in Didi came up that my choice would appear somewhere in that panel. Not many programmes beginning with the word “Didi” you’d imagine. But no. I kept getting suggestions that started with the word “Did”. Because, presumably, the algorithms were assuming that I couldn’t spell, or that I’d mistyped and that I wouldn’t notice.

This is perhaps understandable for the first couple of letters. But it carried on through, till I’d typed out the whole title. And still the suggestion list was full of “Did” titles. No sign of the actual title I was looking for. And so I pressed the search button at the end and finally the title came up.

This might seem like a small thing. But it ain’t. Because the assumption here was not that I, the user, knew what I was doing, or would notice my mistake. The assumption was that I Is Stupid.

Now I know what you’re thinking and that’s very naughty of you. Even if that thought may have some truth contained within! But still…it’s a very bad starting point for any interaction to begin with that kind of assumption.

There’s a lot of it around these days though. Whether it be on search engines, help lines, customer services, staff meetings, political declarations, or whatever. And we do it to each other too.

Here’s the message. Take it or leave it…… I’m not as dumb as I look.

And I’m pretty sure you aren’t either. So why don’t we start pretending, for the sake of argument, that we’re all capable, competent, smart, human beings.

Maybe we’ll find ourselves pleasantly surprised when we take that leap of faith.

Steve Byrne: You Don’t Have To Be Strong

In my blog The Special One from a while ago, I name checked a friend called Steve Byrne and said this:

"It is amazing that somebody, even one, is prepared to commit their precious time to watching you do your thing on a regular basis.”

Steve was the fella who was my biggest supporter, sometimes my only supporter, musically, and I’m sad to say that he died yesterday.

We’ve known Steve our whole time in Kintyre, from when we first lived out in the sticks miles from anywhere 26 years ago. He was our nearest neighbour, living about 1/2 miles away and had also recently moved here. Straight upon meeting him he invited me round for a home made curry at his house.

That was typical. Steve was always outgoing and generous with his time and possessions. He was always on the side of the underdog. I know the loss of a sense of compassion in the highways and bye-ways of power over recent years has infuriated him. He was also a massive supporter of the Homesong idea, and attended pretty much every one that happened at our house and at Gareth and Lori Silvan’s house in Clachan.

Anyone who knew him will tell you he could blether for Scotland AND for Liverpool, and name drop (!) about all the things he was involved with. He did a lot of voluntary work for the Scottish Government regarding various issues, including in an advisory capacity for new tenancy legislation. That was ironic for us because, at his request, a few years ago we had ended up becoming the landlords of his flat, when the previous landlord sold, and he had asked us if we could or would take over.

It was in the attic of that flat where I recorded my only actual physical album so far “A Human Being”. And it was the first time he heard a particular song, which he has kindly been trying to get the whole world to listen to ever since, blowing my trumpet when I was too shy to blow it myself.

I’d like to link to the stripped back version of that (which he always preferred) in memory of Steve, and with a tear in my eye.

You Don’t Have To Be Strong. RIP Steve Byrne.

Cry Little Baby

Below is the lyric of lullaby I wrote yesterday for all the babies that get separated from their mothers for short or long period’s of time. It came about after this weekend’s restless Saturday night’s sleep, in which I was remembering my mum telling me a story going back to when I was 3 months old. I needed an operation that involved staying at the hospital for a week and, in those unenlightened times, she wasn’t allowed to stay with me through the night. It made me think about, having had lots of kids and grandkids, how that must feel for a baby.

Cry Little Baby

You can’t change the fact that
Mummy wasn’t there for you
Even though she wanted to
Oh it doesn’t seem fair

So cry little baby
Don’t you sleep
But this is not the end of things
Though that’s how it feels

When there’s nothing you can do about it
There’s nothing you can do about it
Hey, it’s always been this way

Cry little baby
Mummy’s still out there
You’re gonnna know love again
One fine day

So cry little baby
But mummy’s still out there
You’re gonnna know love again
One fine day

Break A Rule Day

I broke a rule today.
It’s my Break A Rule Day.
The rule, on my break a rule day
Is to break a rule.
One day I’m going to sneak up
On break a rule day
And keep the rules.

Ha, that’ll show ‘em!

Guidelines

I did everything right last yesterday to get a good nights sleep. I exercised during the day, didn’t drink any alcohol, only had coffee in the morning, finished early with my screen time, turned down the lights low well before going to bed, opened the window for fresh air, treated the bedroom simply as a place to sleep.

I went to bed with a relaxed mind, breathing slowly, and feeling calm.

And then followed a very restless night, where I was awake for long periods, and aware of a darker taint to my emotions during those times.

That happens to me anyway occasionally. But sometimes, even when we follow all the Guidelines, it still doesn’t go to plan.

It doesn’t mean that the guidelines are wrong. Just as it doesn’t mean that the 100 year old smoker proves that smoking is good for your health.

Sometimes you’ve just got to roll with it.