Been a while.
.... so long 2021.
An old song from a younger man
An old song from a younger man. I think this was the first thing I ever recorded and mixed myself, maybe? 2004, perhaps? An old Boss BR-864. Singing into the onboard mics. Still trying to rid myself of an American accent when I sang. Still dropping ‘g’s.
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Think too much, I act too slow
The moments pass and the syntax refuses to flow
Don’t think of it as sentiment
Or a nervousness as I have to catch my breath
In that pause (the heart beat)
I take in the room and the walls and the light
And I breath, I breath in that moment
And just for that moment, just in that moment is all
Baby Baby, come
Half-lit room with its breathless air
I can only just begin to forgive myself
For daring to dress you down
Are we open now?
When we talk, when we touch each to other’s mouths?
Confess to me all you dare and I swear we can be ourselves
In a breath, in a breath in a moment
And just for that moment, just in that moment is all
Baby Baby, come
Think too much, I act too slow
The moments pass and the syntax refuses to flow
Don’t think of it as sentiment
Or a nervousness as I have to catch my breath
Confess to me all you dare and I swear we can be ourselves
In a breath, in a breath in a moment
And just for that moment, that one tender moment is all
Baby Baby, come
I gave up social media for Lent, tired of constant scrolling, hoping to find more time. But there is no ‘more time’, just time and what you chose to do with it.
…… a new career in a new town.
Virginia Anderson
I was saddened to hear of the sudden and unexpected passing of Virginia Anderson this weekend. I met her through watching the South Leicestershire Improvisors Ensemble and then getting to play with them. I will miss her enthusiasm and encouragement and my thoughts go out to Chris and Virginia’s friends and family. Xx
undeniably alive
Riding my bike home from work
in the not quite nearly night of the early evening.
My twin silhouettes, cast on the hedgerow from the headlights of the car behind me,
slowly, confidently,
glide past my side as they overtake me
leaving me alone in the dark again.
My front light glints speckles of light
as it catches beer cans, bottles,
discarded items littering the grubby sullen roadside.
I think this light play is the only positive to another dull day,
until I reach the top of the hill and peer over my shoulder.
The waxing crescent of a silver new moon
hangs bright in the buff orangey pink light of dusk.
I stop and pull over to stare at it,
feeling undeniably alive.
peter wyeth 