The Other Side Of Blue

It turns out that there is, and forever will be, another side to every experience. If we wait it will appear.

Every moment, every emotion, every dream, every reality and every devotion will change into something other.

So, if the present experience is “bad”. Well, hang on a while. There will be another bus along in a minute or two.

I once got on a bus called The Other Side Of Blue.

The Devil’s Bridge

“You can’t cross over here
With your sweet sincerity
We trade in darkness here
Everybody knows
That’s how we roll
That that’s the goal”
Thus spoke the troll

”Who ya tryin’ to kid
This is the Devil’s Bridge
The Devil’s Bridge
The Devil’s Bridge”

”You won’t find friends my friend
On the other side
We won’t connect you
To anyone at all
Just pay the toll
I’ll take your soul”
Thus spoke the Troll

”Who ya trying to kid
This is the Devil’s Bridge
The Devil’s Bridge
The Devil’s Bridge”

”Come on take my hand
And though it’s not the promised land

I can promise you this
The Boss is gonna like you
The Boss is gonna like you
The Boss is gonna like you a lot
“


”Hand me your kindness please
You won’t need it anymore

Take this cup of spite
There’ll be plenty more
Fill in this poll

Support the Trolls”
Thus spoke the Troll


“You look a smart kid
But this is the Devil’s Bridge
The Devil’s Bridge
The Devil’s Bridge
The Devil’s Bridge”

Unsubscribe

I often have to put the practise of “Unsubscribe“ to use. It untangles the mess a little bit.

But I seem to do it a little bit too regularly sometimes.

Maybe I should put more thought and effort into not subscribing in the first place.

Colours Of The Rainbow

OK. You want to hear something very cute.

Listen to Colours Of The Rainbow

It’s a song I wrote at the request one of my grandchildren, Angus, a few years ago. The cuteness comes, unsurprisingly, not from yours truly, but from the vocal accompaniment of Angus’s older brother, Saul. And don’t forget to hang on in the middle of the song for when it, and Saul, go all heavy metal on those dang colours.

Also, don’t forget violet!

ps. You’ve got to allow me a little bit of gushing pride and joy now and the at anything my grandchildren do.

Clean Hands (And A Little Bit Of Space)

The Covid Years, huh. What a palava!

It already feels like a lifetime ago. It changed us quite a bit, I think. Or at least it was a big factor in all the changes that were already happening. Changes that have affected us as individuals and as society.

It feels that good things like - “democracy”, “peaceful co-existence”, “confidence about the future”, “our faith in authority”, and simple “kindness” - have all taken a hit to some extent.

Perhaps they have, or perhaps it’s just those blasted algorithms.

I’m of the opinion, as you may have become aware, that it is truly pointless, in fact harmful, to spend my time worrying about things that I can’t control. Perhaps the most important action we can all take is to take care of our own perspective on it all. Because worry leads to fear. And fear leads to all sorts of bad behaviour and outcomes. Things we hear a lot about even if we try and avoid hearing them.

Personal mental self care, is the biggest gift of kindness we can give, not only to ourselves, but to the people we love. And to the planet. The best antidote to terror.

For me meditation, mindfulness, being in the moment, accepting This right now - whatever you might like to call it - that’s been the biggest game changer.

But honestly, whatever works for you.

In the early days of the Covid Years I wrote Clean Hands (And A Little Bit Of Space). Which was me trying to grapple with all the confusion back then. Some lines look odd now. But hey, none of us plebs knew anything really, and the people who did genuinely know something were learning as they went.

I’m reasonably happy with my imperfect observations back then though. They’re not too off the mark.

Also, I miss Robert.

Merry Christmas To Me

I know it’s early in the year, but here is my most festive of festive songs yet, released today, on this almost festively fourth of December. It gets to the true meaning of Christmas…

Yes … Merry Christmas To Me!

Because if I’m happy everybody will be. Or more pertinently, if I’m miserable then …

Bah Humbug!

Anyway, I do hope you have a lovely festive season whenever yours starts. But I also hope you didn’t have your first mince pie until December at the earliest! Coz that’s the law you know. Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. i’m being lenient. Some folk wait till Christmas eve!

Now that’s dedication.

Nightbird

Albums aren’t a thing anymore. But they’re still a thing.

I once released one called A Human Being. (Copies still available!)

And then I began on this long and winding road of releasing 150 singles in a row. The 151st tomorrow.

More numbers….I turn 60 next year, and I’ve been pondering the idea of
releasing a second solo album to celebrate. I would pick the songs that I personally love the most, from among the many I’ve recorded.

It’s funny picking favourites. One or two spring to mind straight away. But we’re such changeable creatures, and my own opinions about my own songs are as flexible and in flux as everybody else’s. In addition, I do believe that the best albums, the ones that work as albums, need to have some kind of musical or lyrical thread. So I might have to be even more selective in my favouritism.

Anyway, todays blog title came along. And Nightbird could really be a contender. I do like this one.

Rainbows In The Spray

“Who can say, why we can’t
Only feel one way
We’re dancing
Like “Rainbows In The Spray“.

And that’s all for today.

Do The MOK Run

I wrote Do The MOK Run after a request from Mull Of Kintyre Run organisers for performers to sing songs to the runner on route. So I wrote the song, and sang it to the runners as they passed near our house.

The MOK run is a yearly event that brings together both the local community and running enthusiasts from all over. I ran the main 10k event myself, 10 years ago this coming May, as a way of “celebrating” the fact that I was about to turn 50.

Running for distances is not a thing I particularly enjoy doing. And doing it seems to go against the interesting wisdom a friend imparted to me a while ago. In reference to an ancient life form he remarked - “I just follow the example of the Amoeba”.

Apparently the Amoeba has only two kinds of movement. Either away from things it doesn’t like OR towards things it does. Away from suffering, towards pleasure. Away from enemies and towards friends. Away from danger and towards food.

Running definitely feels like something that this particular Amoeba (me) should be running away from.

But we advanced life forms (lol) have discovered that sometimes short term pain and suffering, in the right doses, can lead to long term benefits. So, counter intuitively, we sometimes move intentionally towards the apparently harmful thing.

I only did the MOK run once, preferring to keep fit in other ways. But I’m thinking about doing it again when I’m 60.

But if I’m not doing it for fitness, then why? Possibly some weird sado-masochistic hit. Or simply a jolt to remind myself that this ageing fella isn’t quite deid yet.

I Thank You

Gratitude
Takes its time
To soak into the skin.

We picked the grapes
Under the hot sun
Crushing them slowly
And letting the sediment settle.
The juices refined by patience
Over many years
Inside a bottle,
Inside a dark cave.

At last the wine within
Lost any bitter remnants
Of acid rain.
Finally it tasted sweet.
But not of sugar.
Far deeper than
A casual “thanks”.

Instead

“I Thank You”.
A dance in which both
A Me
And A You
Warm our souls and become young again,
Sifting through flavourful memories
As the flames
Of the evening fire rise
And disappear.
And as the sun sets
Over this vineyard of dreams.

Little Fire

Sometimes there is a Little Fire waiting to burn all along.

But before even that small fire starts to burn, the glowing embers have to be awakened. It can take a lot of work getting a nearly dead fire back to life.

It certainly can’t cope with a big log thrown on top straight away. That’s just going to starve it of oxygen and kill any chance of getting things going. Little twigs and bits of paper are the way. And a lot of blowing.

Of course it helps if you’ve got some purpose made Firestarters. But in life that isn’t always the case. So patience and care are the key when the raw materials are in short supply.

I’ve watched the boy, about whom today’s song was written, and who sometimes looked like a hopeless case, turn into a young man.

He’s our little fire, and we’re proud of him. He warms our hearts.

Hats Off

It’s all too easy to look back and focus on the mistakes. The wrongs moves. The wrong choices.

”If only”.

Listening to Hats Off I got thinking about one of the many, many decisions I’ve made, that, in retrospect, look mistaken.

”What if?”

And it is those sort of questions which can turn me into an ice statue when I’m making my decisions today. How do I avoid making mistakes with today’s decisions?

I Don’t.

Hats Off to the next one.

There Will Be Weather Tomorrow

Have you seen those folk who go on holiday prepared for every eventuality. They never really look like they’re having a holiday.

99 percent of the preparation for anything is in our heads… a willingness to accept the unexpected. The kit might help. But it can most definitely hinder if it weighs us down in mind and body.

”There Will Be Weather Tomorrow” will always be the most reliable forecast.

And some of it will catch us by surprise.

Like An Angel

The mythical story tells of an Angel, Lucifer, who was the head honcho angel in heaven. The Angel of Light. But Lucifer rebelled against God, was cast out of heaven, and became known as The Devil, Satan. A symbol of darkness, chaos and evil.

As God created Lucifer in the first place, we can reasonably conclude that everything - Darkness, and Light, Goodness and Evil, Chaos and Order - originated from God. And as God, in this particular story, has no beginning and no end, then all of these features of life, are also without beginning or end. They stand outside of time.

I often find myself intentionally looking for the beauty and wonder of life, because my own inherently developed tendency has been to see the ugly harshness of life. It has helped me to gain some balance.

But in truth, The Truth, is that our every experience and perception is a part of the whole. The truth is that the universe, my own consciousness even, when all the layers are peeled away, accepts everything that arises without judgement. Those things we call good and those we call bad.

Like An Angel, I can choose to smile and accept, or I can rebel and fight against everything that already is. But real, freedom can only come, has only ever come in my experience, from accepting the fundamental truth of everything that comes my way.

It’s all “God”.

The Off Switch

I’m trying to follow my own advice in The Off Switch. It was good advice I think. Even a broken clock tells the correct time twice a day.

So my laptop sits on top of a set of drawers. I have to stand to use it while I’m writing this. And I don’t take my phone to bed at night. I don’t look at it before I’ve been for a walk in the morning, or done a few other things.

It’s strange how difficult it sometimes still is to pull myself away. None of it feels particularly comfortable yet, even though it’s been a while. It’s almost as though I’m addicted to Screen Life.

Surely not?

But I definitely feel better when I’m spending less time being infantalized by Dominatrix Digital. Though she doesn’t like it when I refuse her commands.

Galapagos Finch

Galapagos Finch isn’t as famous as, say, Paul McCartney.

And John Lennon once said that The Beatles were bigger than Jesus.

I sing my song, named for the finch in question, and still some people are oblivious to the role that he played in the development of the theory of evolution. And some other people still think that evolution is a big con - that God (their very particular God, not somebody else’s) did it all. Some other people, who believe God did it all, also believe that he (or she) did it through the process of evolution.

It’s a minefield of confusing narratives out there. Because we all like evidence for some things, but prefer faith and dogma in other situations.

But it really is getting harder to place a flag in the Continent Of Knowledge and declare - This! This is, almost certainly, The Truth.

Experts and Authorities have had their day.

And good riddance, some might say. They wielded far too much power.

Trouble is, as that ancient Continent breaks up and drifts apart, we all find ourselves with less and less solid ground to stand upon. Good Reason hasn’t got the microphone anymore. In fact the microphone, courtesy of The Net, has been given to every Tom, Dick, and Harriet.

Now any old fool can run a country. Or question a scientist.

Well, like everyone else, I’ve got a microphone. For what it’s worth. So have you. Personally I’m going to use mine to do what I most enjoy. I’m going to sing. Think I’ll kick off with that famous Darwin song ”All You Need Is Love”.

Charlie Darwin! Wow! What a great songwriter he was.

And perhaps, just maybe, Love is the missing link, when all is said and done.

What’s The Question?

I got an education. Coz an education, like a prison sentence, is compulsory.

I’ve got a lot of respect for teachers. I thinks it’s one of the hardest jobs in the world.

But it shouldn’t be.

Teachers should be teaching people who want to learn. That’s how it should work. But because of our system, for better or, in my opinion, mainly for worse, they are more often than not trying to teach children who mostly, given the choice, wouldn’t be there.

Anyway, there are a lot of reasons for that. But I wrote “What’s The Question?” for anyone who struggled or struggles with school. Including the teachers.

Empire

Why do we humans even feel the need to build an Empire? To own more than we could ever use? To conquer other worlds? To be in charge of something other than ourselves? To get ever more likes and listens?

Our own conscious minds are a whole universe of experience and potential. Of freedom and exploration. Of creativity and imagination.

If we have that (and if we’re alive and conscious we always do) a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, family and friends … we are already kings and queens.

Surely enough?

It seems not.

Delayed Reaction

When we had our wedding related visit to Sri Lanka, there was a wonderful chance one time to go on an elephant safari. This happened a short while after I had listened to some personal stories about the temperamental and dangerous side of your Sri Lankan elephant. From someone who had themselves witnessed a relative being killed.

Elephants live in the wild in Sri Lanka, but because the island is small and fairly heavily populated, there is a lot of contact between the elephants and humans. Now and then, more often than is comfortable to think about, an elephant can get it into its head to attack people. There are about hundred deaths from elephant attacks every year apparently.

So, same day I heard that story, we were on a jeep in a nature reserve, and we had a great close up view of a herd of wild elephants. My Sri Lankan relatives who were with me were a lot more cautious, and stayed seated beneath the protective bars. Brave me (ha ha!) stayed stood up the whole time for a better view.

Until … well, I can only say that there was a brief moment when my heart nearly stopped. I was looking at a bull elephant. And he started looking at me. And I can only say that he wasn’t looking at me in a particularly friendly manner. He started moving in our direction very quickly. An elephant can easily lift a human out the jeep with its trunk.

The driver, I’m glad to say, was experienced and saw almost straight away (there was a brief delay) what was happening. He started the engine and drove away. I lived to see another day.

Fortunately, a Delayed Reaction is better than no reaction.

No reaction means you’re deid.

The Odd One Out

We’re wired up to be wary of strangers. It made sense once upon a time. It kept us safe. People who “stuck out”, were a bit “weird'‘, “strange” even… they were potential threats to the tribe. And the tribe was where we belonged.

Ironically, strange as it seems, in the global tribe we now inhabit, the world of Cyberia, we are all tending to become strangers to each other. The more information we have, the less we know people. Everybody looks a little bit strange now. Trust is in low supply.

But, you know, “you never can tell with The Odd One Out”. Maybe the stranger can become a friend. Maybe the stranger can save us.

Maybe it’s time to take a chance on the people we’ve written off.

The one’s we’ve estranged.