Three of Swords

My heart’s been broken through the years
I’ve mended it with my own tears
and tears can be a kind of glue
when they’re raining down the simple truth
I own me and I do not own you
I own only me and I don’t own you
Candles bless my tired eyes
and as I watch the bubbles rise
in every perfect mirror see
my struggle looking back at me
the heart that I am breaking is my own
the heart that I am breaking is my own
Close the door to be alone
can I see you and be still as stone
your bright eyes and your brighter mind
hold sentiments no more than kind
the heart that I am breaking is my own
Doing well and doing good
are hard enough it’s understood
that when aren’t the type to lie
you have to find a place to hide
no place of refuge can be right
if I can’t be in your arms tonight
The heart that I am breaking is my own

that’s Gord Breckenridge on piano

various

I have figured out how the rest of this chapter is going to go, but I’m taking a break. Poor Slider, holding the balance in their hands!

Right foot arch hurts so much that standing, walking, are terrible. I wore non arch support shoes for one day of running around and look what it got me, I’m gimped up fierce mama.

Biscotti is in the oven for the second bake; first bake items are sitting around looming like in the kitchen. First batch will be off to the Lunders hopefully today.

Kaossilator notes: S.60 300 bpm ga10  RG1 c´   Describe triangles in the upper half of the playing board very deliberately. Result is called ” Approaching the Derelict Slowly from An Abundance of Caution “

Digital Art

Allison Durno made this LOVE THE COLOURS – orange, dark purple, pink….

Digital Art by Allison Durno of a cat looking through a window at the CN tower

Thinking of my friend Dave D as I post this.

took the day off yesterday from writing. I’ve written maybe a hundred words this morning and I’m trying to find the narrative ladder to make it happen and I think I have.

FINALLY something live Gelis and Niccolo

It’s true that I posted a different version of this song already but a) this is the best song I’ve written in years b) this is the WHOLE thing AS IT IS MEANT TO BE PLAYED. It isn’t perfect but it’s the whole thing.

Anthony raved about the harmonics. He has miked an awful lot of live guitar in his life but he’s never heard someone get sounds like this out of an acoustic guitar, with no effects or processing. I have the ability to really startle the professionals with my capers and antics … musically.

This song is also called between skin and flesh

Did you go straight to a shrine
When you got off the boat
And did you say my name
Did you pray for something special
Maybe self-restraint
God’s own grace to hide your shame

Chorus
I am not the kind of person
that these things happen to
and these things happen
because of you

You wrote down my name on parchment
Then set it ablaze
I know when you did it and it
Stayed in me for days

I am not the kind of person
that these things happen to
and these things happen
because of you

To the world that may be watching
It appears that we’re at war
But it is a game we’re playing
Though our son might ask what for

I am not the kind of person
that these things happen to
and these things happen
because of you

Did you go straight to a shrine
When you got off the boat
and did you say
my name

sharp eyed and long term readers of this blog will note that I have updated the lyrics since the last time I posted this.

creeping up to graphomania again

first 2500 word day in quite a while over the last 24 IT’S THE SUNSHINE

Paul and I walked at the Quay yesterday. I watched a toddler dance for 20 minutes to banjo music and we walked the entire west side from the Colonizing Tin Bastard to the place where a crow gave a lecture to a bunch of starlings. Never seen anything quite like it, colloquy lasted a while. Also got circle buzzed by a hummingbird, never had that happen before; Paul enjoyed it too.

today I decided to rehearse as if I was giving a mini concert, and back to back I did my best ever versions of the Gelis and Nicholas song and then the best ever version of The Friend Who Gave Me This Ukelele and then I did maybe my third best ever version of Alexios. Then I blew very loud into a kazoo while realizing that the song I was blowing to bits was one that wasn’t actually on my list yet.

Also I can’t find the lyrics for that song. I’m going to try to find it in my blog but it might have been too personal, so I’m considering the lyrics lost for now. October 13 2015. I can remember writing it very clearly, knowing where I was, but I think I wrote it on guitar and when I played it just now it was on octave mandolin and I couldn’t remember any of the lyrics so I just blew it into a kazoo which probably bugged the living shit out of Jeff if he heard any of it. It really helped me EXPRESS MY FEELINGS though.

Jeff went out for Ratlands this morning, and it was the best coffee I’ve ever had from McDonalds. My blood is SINGING WITH BEANS.

Miss Margot’s been gone three years (Margot’s song)

Has it been that long? Yes…

This is just me singing in my room, so don’t expect much. Also I had to do about a hunnert takes from crying, so this is the point my mood hit the big red NO MORE button. There was a dulcimer accompaniment but it morphed into another tune.

 

she was a funny cat – she definitely had more of a sense of humour than most. And she didn’t hold a grudge…. also most uncatlike. This is her consulting on me entering ‘The Evening News’ into Finale.

 

I have gone where my friends are waiting
Don’t you worry ‘bout me
And it’s not like I could forget you
Or you forget about me

You will miss me lots
Wish it wasn’t so
When I fill your thoughts
You will know I was here
I was here a moment ago

My old bowl is back in the cupboard
And my grave’s in the yard
Your old heart isn’t made of rubber
And you’re taking this hard

All the love you felt for me
Will never go away
It’s in the universe we made between us
and it is here to stay

I have gone where my friends are waiting
Don’t you worry ‘bout me
And it’s not like I could forget you
And you will never, ever forget about me.

current total

29K words. I think it was down around 18K last time I checked in, but just so you know I’m writing like a mad fool. It’s not quite to graphomania states but right up there, a thousand words a day (graphomania for me is more than 2500 words more than four days running.)

It’s all dialogue, infodumps and emotions including an extremely truncated and not graphic sex scene.

various

Started the Time Team rewatch. I’m marking down all the times there’s casual sexism or something out of character happens. If we eat Tim Horton’s while watching Time Team we eat the first e and call it Tim Team. Ha ha we’re so funny.

I’m sadly waiting for my mother to comment on the last stuff I sent her. I really shouldn’t bug her because she gave birth to me and helped me get old enough to go off on my own, but I have hopes anyway.

I am rapidly running out of pre-posted songs, but am waiting for the mental energy to do something about it. Posting all my songs has really put me in touch with how I am a really good songwriter and an absolutely crappy singer and instrumentalist, so my enthusiasm for the project has died almost completely. If you want me to keep going, and you’re not my mother, now would be a good time to tell me, because honestly? posterity would be better served by me shutting my mouth and just forwarding people sheet music that they can interpret however the hell they want. Let’s just say I am very heartily sick of the sound of my own voice. HA HA. Let the narcissism come down.

Piers Morgan is an oversensitive peckerhead with delusions of adequacy. His treatment of Meghan Markle is unconscionable. He’s acting like a spurned lover. What a fucking creep.

Called Prince Philip dying soon on the first, but he was ninety-nine, it wasn’t rocket science.

Seen on twitter from @raincoaster “A great day to cut COVID deniers out of your will” mmmm good thing I don’t have to.

I had a sincerely pointless interaction with a gay journalist this week. Telling a white Canadian editor that their platform isn’t doing enough to support Indigenous LGBTQ2S journalists in telling their own stories is — I guess — fucking pointless, but at least now I know and have the receipt.

After the pandemic is ‘officially’ over I’m still going to be wearing a cloth mask to shop, to any tourist trap that is likely to have recent travellers from respiratory illness hotspots or houses animals of any description, to travel on the ferry or through airports and via airplanes (if I ever fly again, a good question), in grocery stores and malls, to stand in line to renew my licence, to visit a doctor’s office, and go to a concert. I will be carrying my own sanitizer goo and a spare sealed medical mask at all times. I won’t be wearing them for walks outdoors

I freely admit that I did not stop going to restaurants during the pandemic. But I will definitely be ordering takeout and only going to restaurants that have really good ventilation and adequately pay their servers.

@AECheckly on twitter “Centering ourselves means that instead of truly listening to someone’s experience, we derail or challenge the conversation by sharing our own. This harmful refocusing is always unsolicited and is an attempt to protect our privilege and make ourselves feel comfortable.” This in response to a man saying that nobody can make him feel guilty about staring at an attractive woman.

Also, with respect to Indigenous and Black women I KEEP DOING THIS MYSELF and it’s A FAILING OF MORAL EMPATHY

Meanwhile in Brazil a dog walked into a vet’s office and collapsed. It had a cut in one paw and a tumor. The vet is treating it at no charge and will likely find a forever home for the animal. Is it my imagination or is the global intelligence level of ‘mute animals’ rising???

Buster caught a treat midair with one paw this morning and ate it without it ever touching the ground. I’m not going to tie myself in knots trying to describe it, but it was epic and I’m still not a hundred percent sure how he accomplished it.