Friday, 13 August 2010

Getting Around

I've stumbled a bit this week: as it is the school holidays, I decided I'd try and write a post every day throughout August.  The gig in Hartlepool put paid to that. Not that I wasn't slaving over a hot computer: I spent the time I would have spent posting -and more- creating Youtube videos (see the gig link).

Sadly, I just can't think of anything for the Poetry Bus, being driven this week by Enchanted Oak. It's a shame, as the prompt is a great one: a picture of an empty boat. Oh well, there's still time - I might yet. Trouble is, my brain has a tendency to either think either about music or words, not both at the same time, and it's rather taken up with music at the moment. There I go: a classic case of what in my previous life as a social worker we would have called "statementing" - making a statement about myself which might actually affect what I do, negatively. (The classic cases are the child who always says they "can't" do something before they do it, or the adult who begins a speech with "I should begin by saying I'm no good at public speaking..." One's biggest critic is usually oneself, so it is essential to make sure that that critic is a helpful -but, critically, not uncritical- one. Sometimes, of course, there may be some truth to the statement: one should strive to be realistic; but, in the end one should realise, it is only a statement and question it constructively).

Went down to West Yorkshire yesterday, paying visits. On the way back the skyscapes were spectacular: dark, lowering clouds, spectacular towering fronts, jumbles of cloud in the distance, rainbows. And it kept raining - short, intense summer rainstorms. The combination of heavy rain and often bright (despite the cloud) light made motorway driving pretty unpleasant, so I turned off and took a scenic route, some of it down roads that were unfamiliar to me, even though they were quite close to home. It was quite refreshing to have to read road-signs.A bit slower, perhaps, but a lot more pleasant. None of the dazzling spray - just the occasional large puddle.

On Monday (I was too taken up with the gig to write about it) we went to Ulverston, to visit my cousin there. Went for a great walk, the three of us, with Jo's dog, along the shore of Morcambe Bay. The tide was out. You can see for miles across the sands, the only blot on the landscape being the distant yet large ugly box that is the nuclear power station at Heysham. It's a great place to be. Something about the space, the sand, the rocks underfoot makes me breathe more easily. After that we went to the (really good)fish and chip shop in Greenodd.

Another gig tomorrow: we're playing in Bishop Auckland town centre (11am). Acoustic, which is always easier as there'll be no lugging of amplifiers to be done. The brief specifies fancy dress, so I'll be getting the Hawaiian shirt out for the occasion, a straw hat perhaps. Anything else? I'll have to have a think.


George said...

Always happy to hear about your daily peregrinations, Dominic. I trust you will translate the first comment. I'm fascinated that you have following from that part of the world, wherever it is. It must be that fine music you are playing.

Dominic Rivron said...

My peregrinations.... funnily enough they have recently been back and forth along the route (give or take a few miles) of THAT walk!

As for translating that first comment, I've just deleted it. It would be great if it weren't for the fact that those comments seem to get posted automatically, and there is always a link in them to a porn site.

The Weaver of Grass said...

Interesting what you say about not being able to think words AND music. I find it very hard to think textile art when I am posting a blog every day - it is as though my creative urges have all gone into the production of one at the cost of the other.

Rachel Fenton said...

"slaving over a hot computer:" I read this as "shaving over a hot computer"...sometimes my eyes get tired.

If the boat is empty - does it need to be filled?

Boats are always used as metaphors for women....

There - a feminist empty boat ponderation...

Best with the gig.