Poor Things

Today a film recommendation. Poor Things.

It’s certainly not for everybody. Quite surreal, with several short but quite explicit sexual scenes. There is also a certain amount of close up surgery.

But I found it remarkable. Like nothing else I’ve witnessed at the cinema. Beautifully filmed, it is a kind of Frankenstein story with Emma Stone magnificent as Bella, a young lady brought back to life after committing suicide while pregnant. And it is the brain of her very own baby who gives her life, through the hands of Godwin Baxter, played by William Dafoe, her father figure, who she comes to know as “God” for short.

It doesn’t get any less strange after that. In a nutshell it is the tale of Bella’s growing up and coming of age, from baby to mature woman, all the time in the body of a mature woman, and mainly in the company of the caddish Duncan Wedderburn, also brilliant played by Mark Ruffalo. Though quite course and explicit in some respects, it is never the less a very nuanced, gentle, wise and often hilarious insights into our humanity and our sometimes confusing experiences of both masculinity and femininity. And there is so much more to it than a sexual coming of age story. With plenty of twists and turns along the way.

I’m loathe to say more. A friend who accompanied me to the cinema said afterwards “I’ve no clue how I could explain that one to anybody”.

I feel the same. It is impossible to describe really. But, from my perspective, very highly recommended, as long as you take the advisory comments on board.

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Israel And Palestine

warning: Long Blog Ahoy!

This isn’t usually a political blog. Mainly because, as expressed yesterday, I have come to the opinion that my opinions on the subject have, over the years, been too much motivated by mere personal feelings, and cultural and psychological biases. And I haven’t been inclined to inform myself about the various subjects well enough to feel that my opinions should ever be forcefully aired. Not that I haven’t tried. For instance I did “weigh in” quite a bit on the topic of Scottish Independence a few years back. And yes, I still think that would be a good thing.

However, the title of today’s blog, suggests that I might be about to weigh in again on matters political. Well, kind of.

It’s certainly not that I feel any more able to talk about this one. On the contrary, I have probably watched less of the coverage of the hostilities in Israel And Palestine than pretty much anyone on the planet. It’s such an emotional subject that I find it personally more helpful to listen or read, when I am paying attention. This is purely, through a kind of wise selfishness - it is in order to help me maintain my own decent levels of mental health, without which I am no use to anyone. Especially myself.

Anyways, as little as this issue directly effects those of us who aren’t a part of the conflict, that doesn’t stop there being vast amounts of extremely heated opinion, and sometimes complete hysteria, exploding onto a Social Media Feed near you. This has affected me directly, in so much as my very good wife has very strong feelings on the subject. In her case, these are motivated by a religious faith that I don’t share. She has been posting a lot in support of Israel, and I support her absolute right to do this, but her often religious take on the issue, in my opinion, vastly detracts from any valid view points and links that she shares.

As I say, I believe very strongly that she has the right to share them. And shutting off any ones voice is never an answer. But in recognising that she and her opinions are vastly, perhaps recklessly, in opposition to a lot of what is out there in our popular media, I felt inclined, as a person in love with that very woman, to try and pay closer attention to all points of view, including hers, on the subject.

It happens that I am a subscriber to a meditation app by Sam Harris, who has introduced me to the wonderful world of mediation and mindfulness. But Sam also has a podcast called Making Sense, in which he talks and speaks with people to try and “make sense” of all kinds of subjects that affect our nations and cultures.

Now, in my opinion (oh damn, I’ve given one) Sam Harris is pretty much the most reasonable voice out there on almost anything you care to mention. That sounds like fanboy talk, and, hey, if the shoe fits…

But Sam has got him into a lot of trouble at various times, with both the “Left” and the “Right” on the traditional political spectrum. This is simply because he doesn’t approach any subject from a particular political allegiance. And his strong, though very well constructed arguments, often give folk from both sides the credence to think that he is very for, or very against, their own particular tribal stances. And vice versa.

To my mind, whether or not you agree with him, he is simply always searching for the truth, and expresses himself in the clearest and most measured way possible. For better or worse. That in itself is a good thing I think.

Why am I telling you all this? Well, it turns out that, though very much a secular, not religious voice, Harris backs up at least some of the positions that my wife is shouting about over on Facebook.

And so I’ve listened to his very strong, but as always very reasoned takes on the topic. My own previously limited and biased perspective (for all sort of weird and wonderful reasons related to my own religious and personal history) has been challenged and in many ways changed in the process.

And so, in lieu of me having anything coherent enough to say on the matter myself (“we were starting to wonder” I hear you say) I would encourage you to have a listen to what Sam Harris has to say on the subject of the conflict between Israel and Palestine, and, the even larger and wider issue of Islamic Jihadism worldwide.

Before you listen, I would add this. We all seem to get quite quickly turned into partisan tribalists by our own biases these days …”they said (insert your own personal trigger words) therefore they must be on the side of evil” … kind of thing. But I hope, if you have the time, that you listen to the whole discourse in context, whatever your own personal hot buttons might be.

I suspect that for most of my readers, some of whom are good friends, this will be a challenging listen. But, I hope that you know me by now as someone who isn’t trying to peddle The Truth The Only Truth, And Nothing But My Truth. I’m just a fellow passenger on the Trying To Navigate Through The Fog Ship.

In reality, we are all travelling on this less than water tight ship, and we’re on a fairly gusty ocean at the moment. I believe it helps to listen to each other. Especially when feelings are running high.

ps. The highlighted “have a listen” link above is to youtube and is only about half of the full podcast. If you want the full podcast talk then get in touch, and I can send you a link to a full version, as I’m a subscriber.

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Weighing In

An old man, who I didn’t know, started talking to me on the sea front this morning - ”Don’t think I’ll walk so far today”.

Then he started telling me about a pain that had developed at the back of one leg. He was clearly concerned. Thought it might be a circulation issue. He talked, and I listened. That’s all I had to offer, and it seemed to be enough.

But it’s not always been that way. I’m never been a bad listener, but I have generally been someone, sometimes still am, who liked Weighing In on this or that topic. Whether it be health, politics, football, the state of the world etc, etc.

Opinions must out!

Or must they?

Let’s put it this way…

….No, they mustn’t.

Whether it be in conversations with friends or strangers in the street, or with the Big Wide World on the World Wide Web I’m finding that “First Listen” is good advice to myself.

Difficult advice to follow in a daily blog of course. It’s all about MY opinions. But still….better to speak only when I genuinely know. And if I must offer my opinion, better to provide safeguards for the listener and for myself:

“This is what I….think, believe, feel…about (insert subject). But, really, I don’t know”.

Please do feel free to hold me to account on this matter.


nb. Never the less, a big shout out to the voices out there (yes experts do exist) that do know, but still express their knowledge with humility, care, compassion and grace. Sometimes in the face of a storm.

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Giving Up

Giving Up isn’t an option.

Giving up is the only option.

Ironically I just lost the post I had written earlier (while my ‘puter was updating) which started with the very words written above. But I think I can at least paraphrase what I was saying. It is in fact even more relevant to me now. So…

- I give up the previous post I had written because this new one is needing to be written.
- I give up that past to construct this present sentence.
- I give up my impatience and frustration at the situation.
- I give up the exact wording, which might have been perfect, for this imperfect replicate.
- I give up what might have been, and what might be, for what is.

I give up the future and the past.

For now.

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The Storm In The Teacup

The Storm In The Teacup

Man, it looks serious in there
Copper brown waves rising to the height of the brim
Mounting the sides of the teacup within
And threatening to flood
The surrounding area.

The sugar lump didn’t stand a chance.

Yet moments later
The ocean is calm
the sea settles
And the tea leaves

Me reflecting
Upon the forces of nature
Inside my own porcelain skull.

Frothing, seething
At some slight, or trigger
And suddenly
I’m hardly breathing
As some trivial typhoon
Stirs up the commotion
For what seem like
The longest moment in time.

Yet, if I wake up
And simply watch,
If I let things be,
If I remove the spoon

Like the tea
The waves inside me

Subside, quite quickly.

Before any innocent sugar lumps get harmed.

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The Little Things

I’m on a football road trip with one of my boys. Doesn’t happen often, and it’s great fun. He’s making me a Premier Inn morning cuppa, and the stringy bit from the teabag has separated from its origin and fallen to the depths of the mug.

Previously he sprayed his deodorant in the bathroom, and I nearly choked on the fumes when I took a shower afterwards. What do they put in that stuff? And what’s wrong with good all soap and water I ask you?

Life, as well as the Devil, is in the details. The little things that make us laugh, or complain, or wonder, or cry, or smirk.

Now we travel on. And hopefully Notts County win this afternoon against Barrow, in their first match under the new manager.

But that’s out of our hands.

For me, it used to be all about - the next match, or holiday, or gig, or anything that I was waiting, in anticipation, to happen. In reality, the potential happy ending future was always out of my hands, and I was often dreaming my life away.

These days The Little Things happening now, and surrounding the main event, have become the main event.

I think that’s probably healthier.

As long as those deodorant fumes haven’t damaged my lungs.


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Watching A Film

I am Watching A Film, in which I am the lead actor.

Everything that happens, and everything that I am experiencing, including the sense that there is a ME who is experiencing watching and experiencing it all, is happening in this thing we call consciousness.

And my movie is overlapping with yours, if you’re reading this blog.

Our realities touch and affect each other. But this is my film.

So, I’m just going to sit back with my popcorn and watch my very own life story on camera. Like all the best films, there are twists and turns every moment. I expect to lose myself in the story.

I hope you enjoy your own biopic. And I look forward to those moments when you become a part of my experience, and I of yours. I’m sure we will be good supporting actors in each others movies.

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The Funk

I don’t go into The Funk that I used to on a regular basis.

But the last couple of days I did. Who knows where it comes from, but it settles, when it comes, like it never went away. In those moments, EVERYTHING seems too much. And I seem so weak and incapable in the face of it.

There were three things I could do that helped.

- Don’t push it away. Even if I can’t identify a direct cause, I acknowledge it, and let the tears come if necessary.

- Remember: this too will pass. Just as it has many times before. Like the weather. Don’t fight it. Experience it.

- And, finally, I do one thing. Just that. Keep it simple. The next thing and no more.

Set out like that it looks straightforward. Sometimes, if The Funk gets a grip, it’s hard to see even that clearly.

But like you, I want to be well. Like you, this is my mind, and my life - my responsibility at the end of the day, albeit that we take any help we can. And like you, the journey is messy at times.

When the going get’s funky, we dance to that funky beat.

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Find My Mojo

I haven’t had the urge to write a song in quite a while. In general I don’t feel so connected to my music making. Even the inclination to pick up my guitar and sing a song has receded.

I’m not sure why this is. I think, possibly, it’s to do with the fact that most of my music happens alone. As potential evidence for this, I still get a lot of satisfaction from my recording sessions with my co-producer Sam Hale.

Perhaps I just need someone to bounce off. I have generally found it easier, preferable actually, to bounce off myself. So to speak.

But now, less so. Maybe it’s a phase, or maybe I need to start a band, or find a co-performer, were that possible. Either way, a mild bout of creative musical lethargy exists right now.

I’m thankful for my twice yearly songwriting retreats with friends, because this always kicks me into action. And in the meantime, I do still make sure to play and perform when I can.

I could do with a bit more enthusiasm though.

I need to Find My Mojo.
(Possible song title there maybe…)

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It’s Just Me

The Snowdrop is my favourite flower.

For all the obvious reasons. Delicate beauty, flourishing in the midst of cold bleakness. Life in the midst of Death. The promise of Springtime to come. Being happily different from all the other flowers.

Small, determined, pugnacious strength, pushing through and announcing, without fanfare - It’s Just Me.

If I was in a war, I’d like to have a few snowdrop friends by my side. I would feel a lot more confident then.

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Mr Killjoy

Well, the nice surprise happened. It was better than nice (it wasn’t in Nice unfortunately… still in cold weather land) and certainly a surprise for the intended victim. Wonderful.

And then we move on.

We put a lot of hope in particular moments making life better overall. We might bask, for a while afterwards, in the sunshine of delight or achievement that accompanied these highlights.

And sometimes we even have to deal with disappointment. The hoped for highlight, for which we’d been planning for days, or weeks, or months, or years, may turn out to be some kind of let down.

Either way, the waiting and the hype and the moment - are all gone - in a moment. As the old proverb says: don’t throw all your stones at one egg in a basket. And you reply…”Thanks Mr Killjoy, I think I’ve got the message by now”.

Well good for you, because I need reminding daily. :-)

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Nice Surprises

I’ve got a secret. It’s a nice surprise for someone.

I can’t tell you what, because you just never know who’s listening. The walls have ears apparently.

It’s nice to have a secret, but not always easy to keep hold of it. I nearly gave things away a short while ago, but rescued it at the last moment.

Phew!

Even more Phew! because somebody else is organising the secret surprise. That would have been embarrassing.

There are nice surprises and unpleasant surprises in life. The first kind puts joy in our hearts and smiles on our faces. The second kind, not so much.

Let’s do our damndest to be the bearer of Nice Surprises.


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All The Light We Cannot See

Somebody I love got called a Nazi today, and was then sacked from their small “retired” employment job by our mutual employer.

That one sentence contains a lot to be unravelled. A lot to be worked out. It’s kind of connected with what I was speaking about in yesterday’s blog. And it’s not something I’m going to speak about in this blog in any detail.

Very recently, though, I watched a four part Netflix drama - All The Light We Cannot See - a moving story, about a blind girl, her father, and a small section of the French Resistance in St. Malo at the very end of the Second World War. There was a scene in which a French prostitute was speaking with her client, a German Gestapo officer. She expressed a wish to be helped because,

“When we are liberated, the people will drag me into the street and hang me, because I slept with you”.

Something like that was said. I’m recalling the scene from memory.

And I have had pause to ponder on how far we are all prepared to go to defend, or attack for, our principles.

Because last night I too slept with an alleged Nazi.


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Black And White

How far do we go with our principles?

Everybody we know believes or thinks something that we disagree with. Sometimes they believe something that we COMPLETELY disagree with. To us, it is the opposite of good. In other words, bad.

Sometimes, not always, our thinking, or theirs, leads to actions. Sometimes our actions, or theirs, don’t seem to match what they or we think. We think that, because they think something that we consider “bad”, they must be doing something bad.

But that doesn’t always happen either. It can get very confusing.

It is tempting to hunker down in our sense of certainty.

Of course we always think that we’re right. Doesn’t mean we are, but we always think we are. And so do they. We couldn’t live with ourselves without maintaining these paradoxical illusions.

The Truth is, of course, out there. There is solid ground to stand on, it’s not a myth. Right and wrong, facts and fiction, all exist. But they exist in a continuously changing world. They are hard to tie down. And things are almost never quite as Black And White as they seem, to our simple brains.

So let’s keep talking. The saddest thing in the world, in my fallible opinion, is when the conversation stops because of our immovable principles.

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Hidden Meanings

If you’ve written a song you may have had the experience of seeing, at a later date, something within the lyric which you hadn’t noticed when you wrote it.

I always think it’s good to aim to make the meaning of a song as crystal clear as it can be. And yet often I and other writers dive into our song creation trying to discover something, rather than to say something.

Anyway, there is always something opaque about “meaning” at the best of times. Think of a discussion or argument you’ve had. One in which you’re pretty sure you couldn’t have made a certain point any clearer. But still it remains beyond the understanding of your friend/spouse/child/parent/enemy.

We multiply the possibility for Hidden Meanings when we attempt to use poetic language. That’s a good thing as long, I think, as we aren’t pretentiously and consciously trying to do it.

It’s really just about being open. We won’t even know it happened when it happens. We can’t take credit, because we didn’t even know it was happening. Because our brains do their best work out of sight.

And I suspect we should probably write more songs which are open to interpretation. By our listeners and even by ourselves.

nb. As I sit here trying to edit these unpoetic words (which isn’t a bad thing) I’m left with the thought that sometimes, when the words are out there, we should just let them be.

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These Kind Of Days

Weather Report from Campbeltown: Cold, with a frozen scattering of hail. Careful walking conditions.

We have the magical Gulf Stream on the west side of Scotland, so not that many days at or below freezing. But I like it like this. The air is sharp, the skies are clear, and the birds are busy.

Nostalgia Report from Me: When I was growing up, there were a lot more of These Kind Of Days. I lived inland, in the midlands, towards the east, and away from that warmer Atlantic climate.

So of course, I have a natural affinity to something that was a part of my formative experience. That good old frosty winter weather.

But, you know me now. I’m all about Now. So when the nostalgia blows in, I usually just say hello, experience that warm glow for a moment, and then watch it blow right on by.

Whatever the weather.

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Our Mortal Eyes

The world was once very different.

The world was once very different, many times over.

20,000 years ago was very different. 20,000,000 years was unrecognisable to Our Mortal Eyes. (I’ve started another book, which has already got me hooked. Otherlands by Thomas Halliday).

It’s only from one tiny second, one tiny year to the next when, with our limited vision, everything looks familiar and, to an extent, comprehensible. Even then….

But it’s so helpful that some humans have been able to make amazing discoveries about the nature and history of our planet and our universe. It’s a big advantage for us modern day humanoids, even if only in our limited imaginations, to be able to stand back and look at the big picture from the perspective of vast distances in time. Or, as we gaze out into the universe, vast distances in space. And time.

I can’t comprehend it. I’m not a physicist, or any other kind of ist, in case you were wondering. But it’s worth at least trying to picture these enormities in scale. It’s both humbling and liberating. If we let it be.

Also, for those of us who are songwriters, there’s an awful lot of material out there. It can add a very interesting texture to our smaller scaler, intimate, human stories.

But don’t forget to breathe.

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Did I Pass?

Sultana Scones, with Butter, Strawberry Jam and a big (HUMONGOUS!) dollop of Cornish Clotted Cream.

(1) Very bad for your heart, and (2) only to be digested in the summertime?

Discuss.

In regard to part one. No, I feel great thanks.

And, in regard to part two? That’s another No from me.

Glad we got that sorted out.

Did I Pass?

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The Urge To Get To The Fridge

There is an apparent paradox when I say to myself

“This, here, now, is OK”.

What then is my motivation to move forward at all, to do anything, if what is here, right now, is just fine.

It’s not really a paradox at all though. Because the biggest part of what is here, now, is simply my inherent life. The drive to move forward and Live that we were all born with. We can’t escape it even if we try.

Even the couchiest, couch potato has The Urge To Get To The Fridge now and then.

To me - ”This is OK” - simply means that every urge to be somewhere else, doing something else (often surfacing in a form of subtle, or not so subtle, restlessness) should be as much subject to the gaze of my present awareness as anything else I’m seeing, doing, thinking, or feeling.

In less wordy terms, it’s become a case of simply slowing down and looking at whatever turns up in life, including my thoughts and urges. Not to judge. Simply to notice.

Life is, at the very least, a lot more peaceful this way. And meaningful too, I would say. It’s a better place from which to move forward.

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The First Domino

I sometimes hear kind words from people, about the words I write in this space I call Fee’s Blog. I very much appreciate and value them.

But here’s a secret. The blog writes itself. The words I write are like a line of dominos toppling, each one falling in response to the one that went before.

The First Domino fell at the beginning of time. Assuming that’s a thing. And here we are.

But no, that doesn’t mean that I feel helpless, or nihilistic, or that life is meaningless.

I feel free.

Of course that feeling of freedom may well, will almost certainly, itself fall. But it seems very much, at the moment, like that feeling will return at some point soon afterwards. The freedom itself is there all the time anyway.

It is as though the dominos have aligned in a good way. Actually, they were always aligned in a good way, I just didn’t see it.

So I shouldn’t try and mess with them really.

And the dark days and the sunshine seasons will continue. But the freedom remains to accept it all, and work with what there is right now, and what is to come. And right now I’m feeling that freedom.

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