Learning from The Floyd, singing for the soul and a pocket full of Rye
“I suddenly realised then, that year, that life was already happening. I think it was because my mother was so obsessed with education and the idea that childhood and adolescence and well, everything, was about preparing for a life that was going to start later and I suddenly realised that well, life wasn’t going to start later, it starts at year dot and it happens all the time, and then at any point, you can grasp the reigns and start guiding your own destiny. That was a big revelation to me. I mean, it came as quite a shock”. – Roger Waters
Brothers and sisters. I have grasped the reigns. Life is happening now and it is good.
This weekend has been full of song. Gospel song. Rye song. Mahalia Jackson song. Miles Davis trumpet-song. Pink Floyd lunatic song. Lotus Mason song. Jack Kerouac poetry-song. Mumford song. Heartbeat song. I grapsed the reigns and sang.
2010 has been wonderful so far. My resolutions have served me well – against the ‘resolutions odds’. I’ve been more organised (a day-to-a-page diary is a wonderous thing), prioritised my creative endeavours (see singing, above / the Simone de Beauvoir project, more to follow / finally going to a drop-in acting class / writing every day, uh… pretty much / keeping my blog, uh…), no alcohol in January (it’s been really great but… roll on February), and, finally – well, I haven’t been quite so late, so that’s a step in the right direction.
OK. So what’s all this about grasping the reigns?
So, this year, something’s changed. I think I realised that life was happening and I was still thinking of everything I was doing as ‘the planning phase’. So, I made some decisions (resolutions, above) and became myself.
As an example, I suppose this weekend is a sort of microcosm of the year so far, so rather than bore you with a daily breakdown of why things are so up, here is a wee insight.
Filming, eating, drinking, singing…
Friday was a great day, filming with Sangeeta. We actually got everything done (woohoo!), and Sangeeta was fabulous. We hightailed it back into London with time to spare and met some friends at Chinese Eat and Drink for food and really really bad Karaoke, with visuals created by someone with some kind of inherent understanding of what might appeal to the strange assortment of wrecked city boys, pseudo gangsters and us that crushed affectionately into each other in the small bar and bonded over ‘Your Song/Angels/Wonderwall’ etc. Sadly, jasmine tea didn’t quite paint the same picture for me, but I had a good time in a voyeuristic kind of a way. Saturday a.m. I was up with the lark and off to Turnham Green to visit Sarah, Andrew and their gorgeous baby Ava. Babies are well small. I had a quick go at holding her, playing with her floppy legs, hypnotising her – you know. Then I had to rush off to sing Gospel music with JS.
God Almighty’s Gonna Cut you down
Yes he is. According to the first song learned at singing club. I didn’t really have to rush to singing club, I wanted to. And I didn’t really even know why. I hadn’t really even articulated to myself the kind of experience I might have singing Gospel songs with a group of people, most of whom I didn’t know. But it was the right thing to do, hallelujah! I have been utterly high ever since. 7 voices raised up and singing for the joy is soul-filling, body tingling fun. Thank you JS for organising.
A belly full of food and a pocket full of Rye
Gospel singing was followed by a massively impressive three course meal with Gail, V and Emma at Dana’s. Dana is amazing. I would definitely cheat if I had to make a three course meal, but she made the whole lot. She even chilled mousse in the fridge and everything. Today, beautiful Blair and Liz came over for lunch and a walk before 2 become 3. And, Guy joined us so he and I could rehearse and he could eat dinner. We raised up our voices again Rye-style and I felt proud of our songs and proud of our friends, and grateful and joyful and glad. Then I stuffed my face with dinner, popped a white rose in my pocket and a red rose in Ronny’s, and we went off to Tom Green’s 30th party as ‘The War of the Roses.’
Assorted aborted/postponed trains of thought
When I was thinking about this blog on the train earlier, there was a lot more I wanted to talk about. iPhone apps (Play Ligeti was voted number 5 in the Guardian Top 30 cultural apps list) and business plans (I’m officially working with Electric Ears), inspirational talks I attended, talks I gave, the screenplay I’m trying to write (the Simone de Beauvoir project), ideas for the Joan Didion project (so many. I love her.), articles I’ve read that, so carefully, articulated feeling-thoughts that I’ve had but not voiced properly. And I haven’t even started about John Lennon.
The end.
But now it’s ten to two in the morning and I’m very tired from doing all of the things I wanted to write about. I guess that’s the right way round. Halleljuah!
