Dancing with a hoe: October 2009

Monday 19 October 2009

Got myself to the little wood with a view to doing a bit of good, tooled up and willing. The body however had neither strength nor stamina for the job. I will finish breaking hardcore for the inner circle of the roundhouse. There is no "getting used" to hard labour
every task requires a new set of repetitive exercises, this latest bash leaves my wrist barely able to lift the iron skillet to the stove, my elbow joint is throbbing like a gong. My right hand is blistered and cut, but the job looks tidy, it's a small comfort to know that if the job is done well it will only need doing the once. By Heck I think me shoulder joints are wearing out. I had better get on before me arm drops off. Mustn't leave the work unfinished.

Thursday 15 October 2009

On home ground...

Leaving the crenelated thinking of the dominant first world order behind,may be the first positive step towards independent personal progress.The distance from a viable sustainable existence,call it a "life" if you like,is well illustrated here.The back view of a last world pioneer might well become the most enduring memory retained by voyeuristic camp followers. Today your future was breaking stone with a lump hammer, he'll do some more once his late breakfast is settled.
You did well to make a start here little un, I am sure it wasn't half as painful as you imagined. Better late than never. The on going iz well in hand, many buckets of mortar have been knocked up since your departure. We will get some more lime tomorrow, on the way to or from cutting more wood in the coppice in preparation for Emile's tractor bringing the goods home. This makes more sense than shopping. Fuel and useful materials for winters ahead, ensures that we wont have to pimp ourselves out cap in hand for cash when the cold season is upon us. Last night got close to freezing, I'll light the stove. The last of the aubergines have been picked, Anne-Sophie helped her mam harvest all the outside tomatoes and peppers. Time flies, it's another today and yesterday's post is not yet published. The blog takes second place to the life.
I have been cracking stones since dawn. This is my tea break.

About Izmusic

"My melodies are songs without words, none vocal narrative. Folk have rushed by for years and barely glimpsed the tune. A few hang around and listen for a while, but the street has many distractions. My back is no longer against the wall,this is the first chance I've had in eleven years to unravel my tunes, at present encrypted into a whole tangle of technique excercises. You've missed some wondrous epic sessions sad that most often I was the only person,mortal at least, to hear them.
Eight hours a day playing in the icy chill of city streets through several winters alters the character of your technique to some how transcend the harsh discomforts and "make some good of the day".
MUSIC IZ A MIGHTY MAGIC! The first cathartic offerings were created hastily in a frantic effort to master the production.It's all past time , I make music for the moment the occassion, a kind of relativity fix. A divine conspiracy, a benign heresy. The line of least probability may offer opportunity of greater possibility.
Enjoy my primitive efforts. Plain song busking,"strictly kitchen ". The music of the heart bridges the ambiguity of fumbling words,overcomes cultural barriers. Music like God is personal none vocal meaning in the voice of the unspeakable word. The "You know what I mean nostalgia " space ,whether we've done the daring deed or not, where the mind might put on clean socks and start afresh. Familiar phrasing from our collective vocal tradition triggers epic vision, emotional empathy, mathematical poetry, sympathetic reveries create lifelines to the greater mind. In all styles, in all languages the flute and drum resist the restrictive dogmatic control of state or temple."