Undeniable

This is a great reflection on one motivation of many songwriter/performers: our often buried desire to create something that is remembered forever. Our own craving for immortality.

I love Gabe’s take on this. And the fact of the matter is that EVEN the people we think have achieved it, still have a shelf life. It’s physics mate. They too will be forgotten eventually. And if that wasn’t true, what does it really matter to them beyond their own time on earth anyway?

But for the rest of us…

Yes, let’s simply make something that has that Undeniable impact which Gabe mentions. It doesn’t have to last forever. It just has to…

-change something, even if it’s only ourselves
- release a teardrop
- start a dance
-or perhaps a romance
- spark a thought
- shine a little light.

That’s enough. We can do that.

ps. applicable to everyone, not just songwriters

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Entertaining To Watch

I was observing myself doing a morning exercise this morning, as though I was in a David Attenborough nature documentary.

Strange things we do really.

I bent one leg, and keeping the other straight, and pushing my chest out, I bent as far forward as I could go as I breathed out, and then, breathing in, back up again. And repeat that one ten times.

Looking in on myself as I did it, a smile reached my face. The craziness of it all. What strange paths of physics, chemistry, biology and evolution over billions of years, brought me to this place. Making strange movements in the dark of an early winter morning.

I get a buzz from watching a flock of flamingos marching in formation on the tv. Why do they do it? Or a troupe of monkeys performing acrobatics in the trees. Same with the antics of the creatures in our own back yards.

We are part of that whole scene. And most of the time we don’t even know what it all means.

But it’s Entertaining To Watch.

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Now It’s Gone

Suddenly an overwhelming sense of failure flooded me.

Now It’s Gone.

And that’s the story of every thought and feeling and sensation and imagining that happens inside my brain when I think about it. And yours too, I suspect.

From the darkest and most despairing. To the delightful. To the sordid. To the trivial. To the romantic. To the painful. To the erotic. To the joyful.

Till the end.

So…

…well, I’m not sure what my conclusion is today.

Should there always be one?

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What A Surprise!

What A Surprise!

The next thought I’m going to think? I honestly couldn’t tell you what it’s going to be.

And here it is. There weren’t even any clues. There never are to be fair. I could be in the middle of writing this blog and suddenly think…

…of pancakes…

Why? I dunno.

But here we are, another once in a lifetime opportunity to watch the amazing, never to be repeated episode of our own lives, appearing fully formed, but always changing, always unexpected, weirdly creative, and completely out of our control.

We, both the audience and the actors of our consciousness.

God knows who the director is. But this particular episode could have a bit of everything. You just never know.

It should be fun to find out. Flipping heck!

The Curlew

The Curlew is usually cautious.
She flies away swiftly on approach.
The flash of her white rump feathers
The long curve of her bill.

Maybe the winter has caused her to throw caution
To the wind.
Hunger overcoming fear.
Today she flew in and landed close by on the shore,
As I walked past.
And yesterday she was feeding
Among the oystercatchers on the grass.
I’ve never seen that.

If you don’t see her though,
By the seashore in the winter,
Away from the moors where she breeds,
Listen out for her call.

Plaintive, haunting, melancholy.
Beautiful.
A challenge to the throne
Of the nightingale
So they say.

Better than anything I could sing.

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Electric Assistance

I’ve just had the pleasure of presenting my lovely wife Ineke with her retirement present from myself and our boys. It’s an electric bike. And once I’d got it up and running, I had a go.

So I could show Ineke how to use it of course.

It’s actually quite amazing what a difference that Electric Assistance adds to the equation. In every respect it feels like riding a bike. But without a good deal of the effort usually involved. Great fun.

And, thankfully Ineke is delighted. Only trouble is I’m going to have a great deal of trouble keeping up with her when we go on our cycling journeys during trips to the Netherlands.

It is, to be fair, nice when something that was hard work becomes easy. Learning to play the guitar (or learning any new technique or skill) often feels incredibly difficult at the beginning. But if we push on through it becomes second nature.

In effect, we can evolve our own electric motors, just by practising enough. Cool.

I continue to practise writing and recording songs. It’s the fourth of the month, so here’s my 140th monthly release. See You On The Summit.

Happy New Year

Wishing a very Happy New Year to you and to yours.

The ironic thing about “happy”, of course, is that the more we chase it, the more elusive it becomes.

So let’s just celebrate This. The This we’ve got. The This we get. After, without, or despite all of our striving.

“Happiness” can and will arrive, a wandering butterfly, floating upon the breezes and storms of our variable days. Sometimes alighting on our palms. Sometimes seemingly far away. But in fact, always around.

We shouldn’t even try to grasp it or bottle it.

It will settle of its own accord, if we let it be.

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Two Thousand And Twenty Three

We’re staying with our Sri Lankan family in Aberdeen right now. It is very sobering to hear about the corrupt government in their homeland, and the way it is effecting large swathes of the population in terms of the very basics of life needs right now.

Things are worse than when we visited last year. And Sri Lanka is a country that has all the resources it needs for everybody to live well.

The history and conditions of our nations and communities, including our own, go backwards as well as forwards. It is so easy to think that our present comforts are a given. But they aren’t.

And it is so easy to think that the changes that occur, for better or worse, are out of our hands. They aren’t. We might not be able to have a big effect. On anything. But we do have an effect.

I hope we, I hope that I, can have a good effect today., small and seemingly insignificant though our actions be. They won’t feed the world, or bring world peace. But they will always count for something, even if that effect cannot be measured.

Having this freedom to be able to act in a way that benefits the wider world, somebody other than just ourselves, albeit in a small way, is a great privilege in itself.

And as this year we call Two Thousand And Twenty Three comes to a close, we can be grateful for that privilege, and resolve not to abuse it in the year to come.

Christmas Heckler

I forgot to mention my Christmas Heckler. Better tell that one, while it’s fresh in the memory banks.

It was magical. A regular monthly open mic I do, just before the big day. Everyone in a festive mood. And, hey, I’ve got some festive songs in my locker. So, in theory, I could do my usual thing, and play my own tunes.

I was finishing off the night, and returning to a song I played earlier, a recent creation, called Merry Christmas To Me. I’d already taught the audience the chorus, because it’s one that demands a sing along.

And then a lady, who, as you might expect, had imbibed a few alcoholic beverages, started to give me grief. Awkward. She wanted a song she knew. Most people do, to be fair. In her case, she was after Mustang Sally. Great song! But I don’t play it.

So we had a little bit of banter, very slurred banter from her direction, and then I went ahead and sang the song I'd already introduced. Everybody else sang it with extra gusto because of the heckle. And as we all sang my heckler got into the spirit of it all, so we finished as friends on the night.

It’s always a risk playing your own songs to an audience that aren’t familiar with them. But, it’s usually worth pushing through and trying to win them over in my experience.

Every song ever sang Is unfamiliar in the beginning.

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Behind The Music

Dylan and Cohen are, whether you like them or not, two of the most honoured songwriters in the era of popular song. One of them, Bob Dylan, allegedly writes songs very quickly. But Leonard Cohen described the process as being very lengthy and laborious. True graft.

But to those of us who like their songs, none of that really matters.

We just like the songs.

Later, perhaps, we become interested in the processes and the meanings, the stories and the heartaches Behind The Music. But not at that moment when we hear the song and it touches our hearts and our minds. At that moment nothing else matters.

This is useful to remember, particularly when the process of creating becomes more laboured. Don’t worry, because those creations too, can become loved and cherished.

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All The Nice Chocolates Gone

All The Nice Chocolates Gone
The wrappers, they shine
As the old year winds down
’Fore a new one is born

Down on Quality Street
Life is calm and timeless
A quiet sea,
Lethargy
After the storm

And you and I drink
A glass of red wine
A toast to the past
And our hopes for the future

Next morning we take down the tree
Though probably not time
And the house feels emptier
The mood more forlorn.

But as we,
Sad to say,
Wish the year away….

Sunshine breaks through
In our winter sky

She sings
“No need to wait
For another day.
Yes, every day
Is a brand new dawn.”

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Twenty Four Hours

It’s my sisters birthday today. The time of year when birthday’s don’t tend to receive quite the same amount of attention as they should. It’s the luck of the draw. Nobody plans their own birth.

Of course when you get to a certain age that doesn’t tend to matter so much. But it’s still nice to know that people care. That they remember. That we’re not an afterthought.

But nobody’s birthday, at any time of year, receives the same level of attention as many of us gave to Christmas day. It dominates the calendar, sucking everything in its direction like a terrestrial black hole.

Strange. It lasts Twenty Four Hours, just like every other day of the year. Exactly the same potential for good and bad as all the others.

But I hope yours was good.

And I hope today is even better.

ps. Happy Birthday Julie :-)


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You Deserve It

“What are you gonna write about” asks Ryan The Elder, back for Christmas. I’d just told him to shut up, while I write my daily blog.

”Who knows?” say I. “It’s always something of a mystery”.

”Random, un-informed shit is all the rage these days” Ryan shoots back.

And this is the sort of raucous banter I love most about having any of our boys in the room. It’s always fun, and it’s always interesting.

So, I hope you enjoy your mysterious, random, un-informed shit.

And might I suggest you accompany it with a warmed up mince pie and a generous dollop of brandy butter.

It’s Christmas Eve. You Deserve It.

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Ode To Happiness

I asked ChatGPT to write a poem about Happiness, and you can read it down below.

It’s not bad. The rhyming scheme is perfect. In fact if your primary school child did this for their home work you’d be very impressed.

But if your child grew up, you would expect them to write something that didn’t sound SO much like “the way a poem is supposed to sound”. You would expect more character, more personality, more humour perhaps…..possibly even LESS obvious “perfection”.

It’s actually very hard to define what gives something that human quality. After all, your primary school child is a human. But often we learn when we are young by copying. Copying a style. A way of doing things. And it is only over time that the "Je ne sais quoi” enters the equation. Later, hopefully, we learn to put our own stamp on things.

Maybe AI is capable of learning that extra nuance over time. Some people think so. I’m sceptical. But it will be interesting to find out.

In the meantime…an Ode To Happiness

In the realm where joy resides
Where sunbeams dance and shadows hide
There blooms a garden, vibrant and bright
A symphony of laughter, pure delight.

Happiness, a gentle breeze
Whispering through the willow trees
It paints the sky in hues of gold
A story of warmth, forever told.

In the tapestry of life, it weaves
A melody the heart perceives
A dance of spirits, light and free
A celebration of what's meant to be.

It's found in moments, small and grand
A child's laughter, hand in hand
With friends who linger by your side
A love that's steadfast, like the tide.

Like petals scattered in the breeze
Happiness unfolds with such ease
It's in the kindness we bestow
A gentle touch that helps us grow.

On the canvas of a grateful heart
Happiness is a work of art
A masterpiece of joy and peace
A sweet serenity that will not cease.

So let us chase the fleeting light
Embrace the day, make spirits bright
For in the tapestry of our days
Happiness is the sun's warm rays.

by Art Intel

As Dark As It’s Going To Get

We made it. Those of us living in the higher ranges of the northern latitudes have lived through months of everything getting darker.

Round about now everything is As Dark As It’s Going To Get.

And it’s at this very moment that we celebrate. Festivals have been occurring for many millennia at this time of year. Christmas, regardless of religious affiliation, is the festival of choice for many in the West.

We celebrate when it’s dark because we know that the light will return. It will. So we can light candles for ourselves to bring a little of the promise of light into our lives right now.

And, when possible, we try to light candles for others…those who can’t find the strength to believe that the light will ever return.

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Start Afresh

Today it’s our little festive traditional two hour drive up to Oban. To visit Aldi for our “Christmas Shop”. Mainly because they sell Stollen and some other nice festive foods that we like.

I know. But myself and Ineke have been doing it for years. It happens to be (like today) on, or very close to, our wedding anniversary. Thirty Seven years now you ask. Thank you.

It’s blowing a hoolie out there, so it will be a wet and windy drive. But these little traditions and habits, that develop over the years, are part of the glue, part of the love, that keeps 2 people together. The kind of thing, in fact, that helps to build the love.

Not the only thing, or, in fact, the main thing.

The main thing is learning to let go of the past. The good and the bad. Somehow we’ve learnt to do that. And it’s all history now, even if we do repeat some parts of it. Like the Aldi thing.

But today, we Start Afresh. I love you Schat!

No Bother

Returning from my walk, on Main Street, in the half light of this almost Winter Solstice Campbeltown morn, a voice called out from above.

”’Scuse me…..S’cuse me”

I looked up, firstly towards the windows above the shop, but then saw a man on the platform at the top of a Cherry Picker. He was doing something at the business end of a high lamppost. (And no, there are no Cherry Trees on Main St, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t other uses for a Cherry Picker, in case you were wondering!)

”Could ya give that blue rope a pull” he shouted, pointing below.

I walked to the base of the lamppost. There was a blue cord (it wasn’t really a rope to my mind) sticking out the opening at the bottom. Ooh! Suddenly there was a little bit of tension in the air. It was like the moment before unwrapping a Christmas present.

So I started pulling the cord through. And the cord was attached to a blue wire. But when the wire appeared, that was that. Job done. The excitement was over in a jiffy.

Sorry about the big build up.

“Cheers pal” he said.

”No Bother, mate! I’ll send you the bill”

So if you’re ever passing along Main Street, Campbeltown, at night, I hope you’ll look up and appreciate my handiwork. We all need a little light in our lives!

No bother.


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It’s Not Cool

Cats Are cool. Or Cool For Cats. Whichever way you want to look at.

They don’t care what you think about them. Which is the definition of genuine, bona fide Cool.

But they also don’t care about anything other than themselves. And caring about somebody other than ourselves…how they are feeling, how we can reduce their suffering, what they are thinking, and how that effects both our worlds…is what helps to define us as humans.

In humans, a lack of warmth is cold.

It’s Not Cool.

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It Saves Time

We’ve never had a dishwasher. Lots of people say we should get a dishwasher. ”It Saves Time” they say.

I’ve just discovered an app on my phone called “Shortcuts”. It’s a way of turning a several step task on the phone into a one step task. Learning how to use that will save time too, I’m sure.

And when we’ve saved all that time, we can use it to do something else.

At some point down the line we’ll be using our time perfectly. That’s how it works right? We get more satisfied and less anxious the more time we save, because in the end we’ll just be doing the things we really want to do.

Or perhaps, at some point down the line, we could just say to ourselves. This is OK. This is good enough right now. I can live with THIS.

We could see how that works out, I suppose.

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The Temple Guards

Occasionally I play an online game with various members of our dispersed family called Jackbox. It consists of a variety of creative, anarchic quizzes in which we each attempt to, well, win of course, but also to make each other laugh. Making each other laugh is probably the main aim to be honest.

We played last night, and it is always a hoot. There is much “inappropriateness”… lewd humour pushed to the limits at times. Very little of the content would find its way onto our “Best Of Us” videos.

But at the same time it feels important to have that space in our lives where we let it all hang out. Where almost anything goes and we don’t have to be too mindful of The Temple Guards, who control the traffic lights between our brains and our mouths.

I think I’m lucky to have these times with my family. I’m glad we all feel safe to laugh our heads off… at ourselves, each other, and at the absurdities of life.

I hope you have those opportunities too. The more serious things become, the more necessary that is, I think.

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