Fresh Out The Pack

I do sometimes wish I’d learn how to play other people’s songs, and wonder if I still should try. If I had a recommendation, aside from “write songs!” to young singer/songwriters, it would be just that.

Learn some covers.

The truth is that you won’t easily get a gig without them.

I didn’t really come to songwriting by playing other people’s songs. And every time I think about learning a cover these days I find that I end up writing a new song. Which then needs to be learned of course. I can’t even play the whole of my own catalogue. Not by a long stretch. So endeavouring to do that, is a never ending hamster wheel.

On the other hand….most writers don’t need this advice. Most are more in danger of getting stuck in the rut of singing covers and forgetting to write new songs.

And personally, as much as I love the old songs, I’d always plump for a brand new, Fresh Out The Pack, original.

Big Shows

I’m generally an evangelist for “Small Is Beautiful”. And I’ve never really been a big fan of “classical” music. But last night I watched a TV recording of a show by the very popular Dutch conductor and violinist, Andre Rieu. Mainly because some of my wife’s family had recently been to see him and his orchestra perform at the same venue in Maastricht, and were vouching for its brilliance.

It was big. But, despite my usual reservations, it was a very lovely thing. It visibly brought a lot of joy and life to many people.

Andre Reau’s gift is to prick the pomposity, and lift the life giving soul of the music out from the midst of something that must be a massive organisational effort. Not an easy thing to do, but he did it with aplomb.

I can get a bit sniffy about entertainment on a massive scale, films and music in particular, not because of their popularity, but because they often seem to be chasing the lowest common denominator down to the bottom of the well of mediocrity.

But when these Big Shows are done so well, and with such heart…well, I was won over anyway. I get it.

Say Something!

Have you ever tried to stop reacting.

To the trigger, that sets you off ranting, or moaning, or shouting, or whining, or ……

But it can be confusing for the person at the other end of this dynamic. They were, consciously or sub-consciously, expecting you to rant, or moan….etc. That’s what you ALWAYS do.

”Say Something!”

So it’s not just about not reacting. It’s about reframing our whole way of reacting. Which might be the reason we don’t often move out of those ruts we’ve dug for ourselves.

It takes time and effort to see the other person, and learn a new way of communicating

Never-the-less, putting a stop to the usual reaction, is still a start of the process.

Especially if at the same time we don’t try to deny the emotion that is attempting to force our hand, but simply let it fade away, deprived of the oxygen of conflict.

Am I Bothered?

Like you, I have things that I’m bothered about.

And like you, perhaps, I think other people should be bothered about those same things. You should be bothered about it.

But damn and blast it, you’re not! Which, quite frankly, is an insult to my sense of innate rightness. Am I Bothered? Yes I am!

You can’t stop me being bothered. But perhaps you could acknowledge it, without judgement. Whether or not I’m justified in my “bothered-ness”. It helps a bit when you do that.

We all need to be seen. And unacknowledged Bother can sometimes inflate to dangerous levels that can cause real, rather than imaginary problems.

It Won’t Last Long

I’ll be honest. You’re not in my thoughts a lot of the time. Whoever you are. Even if you’re my wife.

I know. It doesn’t sound very romantic. Or caring. It probably wouldn’t make for a very good song:

”Darling…I hardly ever….Thi-i-i-ink …..about you…..ooh, ooh, ooh….”

Yes pop lovers, that was It Won’t Last Long by The Every Bodies.

Even those things which we describe as our passions, even our obsessions, are only a brief flicker in the ocean of consciousness. Something, seemingly more mundane and less important, will soon jump in and say - “give me a little bit of your time”.

And we will oblige.

Realising this might be a path to holding on to it all with a little bit of a lighter grasp. Coz, it will soon disappear anyway.

So, what are you thinking about right now?

It won’t las….….ach, you know the lyrics already.

She Is The Song

I was as struck with awe as everyone else at the time, when I first saw the video of Sinead O’Connor singing “Nothing Compare’s 2 U” by Prince, on TOTP’s.

When somebody enters a song, when She Is The Song, so completely, it is impossible not to be moved or to remember. Even through a television screen.

I haven’t followed Sinead’s career closely since. Just been aware from a distance of the conflict and emotion she both created and experienced. She cared very deeply about truth, and that is something which is a lot rarer than it should be, once fame arrives. Fame clearly wasn’t something that brought her much joy.

You will probably know she died yesterday, aged 56, - two years younger than I am right now.

I didn’t know her, but like many, I know enough to feel both grateful for her life and sad for her passing.

Rest In Peace Sinead.

This Particular Onion

Where does it come from? This word. The next thought. Or sound. Or sense of anything. Seriously … where does it come from? Did we make it happen? It feels like we did. But did we? And anyway, where did that feeling come from?

If we keep un-peeling This Particular Onion of profundity … we inevitably get to the middle. And as everybody knows, at the very centre of an un-peeled onion, is precisely nothing.

But where did that come from?

If you’ve spent much time, thinking these kind of, like, deep thoughts, man….well it might seem like it is all a very good reason for getting drunk and forgetting everything for a while. Or getting religion. (Other escape routes are available)

Maybe so. Or perhaps it is simply what inspired Bob Marley, and could inspire us, to spot those three little birds.

Congrats

From an email I received yesterday:

Hey David,

Congrats, since you joined Todoist 9 years, 7 months, 1 day ago, you’ve already completed 0 tasks!

Productively!

The Todoist Team


I responded of course. It’s only polite.

Dear Todoist Team,
Thanks for keeping tabs on my achievements. And I appreciate the level of detail. Not even my daughter-in-law manages to remember the number of days!

I suspect, however, that you possibly overlooked the need to explain to AI Bot, whom you so kindly asked to send me this little love note, the meaning of the term “Congratulations”.

Either that or you and AI Bot are having a little bit of fun with me! Surely not?

Anyway, your kind message made me smile at this earlier version of myself. Best intentions and all that!

Yours Procrastinatedly,
I. Didn’tist

ps. Although on reflection I do remember a couple of tasks I got done in that time period, so maybe the congratulations is in order after all. Are you sure you haven’t got a record?

Every Time

You hear tell of folk “Deconstructing” an art-form. Messing with the format. Taking the materials apart and making something new.

To my mind that is what we are attempting to do Every Time we make art:

- That is how it’s done

- And this is how I’m doing it.

If it’s “Art” they are never quite the same thing. It’s just a question of degree.

And, as in Art, so too in Life.

Staying Up Late

Temporarily stopping something, means that the plan is to start again. But it’s hard when all the momentum has been lost.
Better to keep the habit going. At least that’s what I’m thinking.

What am I talking about?

Well, specifically, sleeping in on holiday. It crept up on me, even with the best of intentions. The lure of Staying Up Late dragged me in, like the middle-aged adolescent I sometimes am.

But I always needed the same amount of sleep. And there are always the same number of hours in a day.

I like my life better when I get up earlier.

Satnav Slaves

I always used to laugh at those stories about people driving into the sea because they mindlessly followed the Satnav.

Today we picked up some visitors from the train station. We took a nice Satnav detour on the way home to see more of the countryside. This detour took us onto increasingly more “rural” tracks until we came to a dead end in the middle of fields of green.

I had one of those awkward 10 point turns to avoid getting stuck in a ditch. But, hey, the visitors were very happy to laugh nervously at our misadventures.

And I’ll show a little bit more mercy in the future towards my fellow Satnav Slaves.

What’s In A Name?

What’s In A Name?

Sometimes more than is initially apparent.

A SUP Board is a Stand-Up paddle board. But the acronym doesn’t do the experience credit.

Paddle boarding has been such a great thing for me to learn. Brilliant for improving balance (VERY important once you hit the downhill section of the Ageing Graph) but not difficult to pick up, if you take it slowly.

I’ve been able to teach myself. We’ve got access to a big lake here in the Netherlands. It’s shallow for quite a way out, so ideal for those early stages of learning. But then there is a whole world to explore.

It is still slightly nerve racking heading across the lake to the other side - instead of around the edge. But sometimes I have the whole water to myself if I go out at the right time (early or late). And when the motor boats are out and about…well, more chance to improve the balance further, when their waves come by. LOL.

Lying still on my board in the middle of a relatively large expanse of water feels liberating.

And the quiet moments are sublime. I paddle up the little inlets and can see carp and perch swimming beneath. Easier to see than when sitting in a canoe. I can even sometimes watch the Great Crested Grebes swimming underneath while chasing the minnows. The dragon flies… well they fly alongside. The coots, moorhens, and various ducks dive for cover, heading into the reed beds with their chicks as I pass by - “What is this strange thing…a man walking on water!?”

The occasional blue flash of a Kingfisher darts past.

I haven’t experienced this particular brand of peacefulness before. It’s a cliche, but I do genuinely feel like a part of nature.

And it’s all happening on my “SUP Board”.

#FirstWorldProblems

My laptop screen is filthy.

And it turns out that giving it hundreds of little cleans over the weeks, months and years would probably have been a lot easier than trying to undo the damage of not having done so.

Anyway, I can still see to type obviously. So in that sense, no harm done.

In fact … it might be that I’m more bothered about what people THINK of me and my filthy screen…than the practical reality of actually having one.

But still, probably wiser to give it a clean now and then?

Hmmm. I’ve definitely got my share of #FirstWorldProblems.

More Things

Tuinhuis means Garden House in Dutch.

We’ve got one on a holiday park in the Netherlands fairly close (but not too close!) to Dutch relatives. It sold us both on the idea, the one simple idea, of trying to live a little more simply.

Yes, we’ve got a holiday home. So already very lucky and possibly over indulged. But it’s a little house of wood with a little garden and just enough of everything. Still more than most people have on a global scale. But for us “richer than we think” Westerners, it feels a little bit more minimal.

Anyway, no big point to be made, other than to say that after we’ve got past the point of not needing to worry about survival, less is almost certainly, more.

More Things really doesn’t make for a happier existence.

ps. And BTW… we didn’t actually paint the Tuinhuis red. But I did enjoy doing it, even on a hot day.
Oh dear, I think I’m coming down with something … I could be about to experience … a bout of contentedness. What’s all that about?

Paint The Tuinhuis Red

Some people come alive doing work around the house. Painting, DIY tasks, weeding the garden, cleaning the windows.

To some of us it is all a chore, getting in the way of “more important things”.

I’m one of the latter. But I would like to change my attitude.

No time like the present.

Today I’m going to paint. Today I’m going to enjoy it! I could even sing while I’m doing it. Time to Paint the Tuinhuis Red!

I feel a little bit better already.

It Doesn’t Have To Matter

The Draft.

We make one with a blog. With a book. With a song. With a play.

This isn’t IT. This is “something like it”.

The plan, usually, is to go back and edit. Improve things.

Life, of course, doesn’t have a Draft version. Each moment is “Live” the moment it has been written.

On the other hand, every day does offer the opportunity to start again at the very beginning.

It’s not that what went before was meaningless.

But It Doesn’t Have To Matter.

Brought Together

Brought Together…

- by Family
- by Celebration
- by Death
- by Passion
- by Music
- by Sport
- by Politics
- by Faith
- by Love

All the same things that can Tear Us Apart.

Are we able to hold on to it all a little less tightly?

Cloud Atlas

I would like to recommend a book, if you haven’t come across it before. It is Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell.

Simply the best novel I’ve read. I can’t remember reading a better one anyhow. And though I never tend to read a book or watch a film twice, I am going to make an exception for this one. And the same for the film, by the way, which had a similar impact on me when I watched it a few years ago.

I’m probably not clever enough to properly understand Shakespeare’s genius, though I have read him enough to see that he was clearly a master of language. It’s hard to fully appreciate writing from a completely different era though, without certain historical knowledge and insight. I don’t possess those.

But if Shakespeare is a better story teller, a better painter of people, a better wordsmith, a better commentator on life than Mitchell, then he must be pretty damn good. Coz Mitchell is bloody brilliant.

Take my recommendation with a pinch of salt by all means. As I say, my qualifications are limited, and there is always a certain amount of personal taste and subjectivity in these matters.

But as you can see, I’m not recommending it lightly.

An Ebook

I’ve intended to write An Ebook about Homesong and the possibilities of music in community for a while. I’ve had a stab at it before, but never really got a foothold.

It’s such an important topic for me and - other than friends and family and the songwriting itself - this vision for Homesong is my main passion in life. It’s my path to seeing a bit of hope for the future, and not just for me as a songwriter, and for other songwriters. It also feels like a positive way forward for rediscovering a sense of community, in an age where that particular fundamental of life seems to be lost in the midst of our global, pandemical, artificially virtual, digital, world wide web of a bit of a mess we seem to have got ourselves into.

Anyway, I feel like I started for real yesterday. I found a doorway in. Now I need to see it through to completion.

Wish me the correct dosages of resilience, persistence, and creativity. And luck. Ta.

Me And The Bean Soup

The coffee is gurgling.

I wait for the grounds to settle. For the luscious oil to seep through to the cavern. I’m anticipating the dark hit. The bitter smooth taste - no diluting milk or sugar for me. And the wee caffeine rush behind my eyes, a short while after.

Yes, I’m probably an addict. But I do sometimes take a day off just to test my mettle… just to prove that I don’t need to go to rehab quite yet. And I never use a needle!

Oh, well now…the coffee has stopped gurgling.

You’ll need to let me go.

It’s just Me And The Bean Soup for a while.

I know you’ll understand.