More thinking

While in the New Forest, for a family holiday. I thought of time running in both directions, again. How my self - now, could affect my self, then. I actually rolled it around in my head, until it took shape. The shape of something I half-remembered, from my childhood. A memory that bubbles up, every once in a while. It all feels quite...cinematic. A widescreen look at a narrow feeling.
I can recall standing in a field, by the entrance to Dauntsey's school - as the path to the school winds past fields and stream. I stood by the bank of that stream, looking at a viaduct, and the trains that passed to the east. Heading up to London. I can hear myself saying "take me with you", under my breath. I can still feel that back then, life was passing me by - now, has it still? Or do I want it that way?
I'm not sure.

I always thought stories had an end. Now, I think they never end.

What's a day in the holidays actually like?

Today felt very...standard. Archetypal. Some dozing (twenty minutes!), some baking (Marnie wanted to make cupcakes - again) some work (ROCCR stuff, as well as a bulletin for tomorrow) and some lunch (hummus, peppers, yoghurt)
So, I was grateful that I started off the day, on my bike. A quick loop around Epsom common, then around Horton Park, and then Ashtead common as well. With the sun rising over the trees, and no-one else on the trails, at all. With the smell of leaves, and soil, and Buddleia, and brambles. I think a fairly decent word for all of the assault on my senses would be "fecund".
Would like to do it again tomorrow, but I suspect that the weather may thwart my plans.

I went out on my bike today.

And it made me feel like a kid again. Everyone says that, I'm sure. "Oh, I felt like a child, it was wonderful". But this was something else. I mean, I really did feel young. Like I'd regressed. Like I could see, somehow, How I was. I could feel the same way. And oddly, time seemed to be flowing both ways. As fast as I was heading towards old age and death, I was running as hard as I could, in the opposite direction. To be who I was, and to feel what I feel. All of it was there, every instant. How odd is that? All from a bike ride.

Needed a quick break.

Every now and again, you have to do it.
My year is starting to turn around, gradually. The two big foreign JJ jaunts - which were huge sources of stress - are now over. There's another tour in the Autumn - but that's 3 months away. For now, I can relax a little, and focus on the Kids, and ROCCR.
But, I'm also looking at my life, more than I used to. One of the benefits of sobriety seems to be the sense of living, absolutely, in the moment. I feel like I've got my memory, and my memories back, and they swirl around my head, constantly. I can feel, smell, taste, the things I di - ten, twenty, thirty years ago. It can be a little bewildering, but at the same time, it's filling me with a pure sense of wonder.

Sitting on the bed

Listening to the kids having a story read to them. It's been quite a quiet bedtime tonight-  which is a blessed relief. Milo can certainly be....challenging, at times like this, so peace and tranquillity is something to revel in.
It's been a drifting day if I'm honest, but I did manage to get out to the gym and swim. I'm going to do my best to exercise as much as possible, this week. It's been tricky, over the past few weeks, and I'm feeling it. Haven't put any weight on, but I feel out of condition. I need more energy and drive.
and today has been soundtracked by Miles, as so much of my time is. 1958 Miles, to be exact. I'd love to know if there's a mono CD of it - that would be amazing. Must dive down a Google rabbit hole.

And this seems strangely fitting

Well, perhaps not so strange. There are times when it's just me, on this journey. Even if it means it's just me, thinking about everyone else. That's a vital part of togetherness - the solitude that engenders complete understanding of who you are. Then, you can work out how to do that dance, around all the people you love, and let them into your world, as you fall into theirs.

Breakfast again.

I feel slightly lethargic today. I guess that it has something to do with not exercising for a while - I've just been too busy. Need to get out there and do it, really. It's a Monday, so it's a perfect time - the cleaner is busy in the house, so lazing around here isn't any fun, and to underscore that, the builder will be here doing the bathroom. It's a soggy, drizzly morning, so it seems like a good idea to get out and hit the gym. Could swim? In the rain? That's always a cathartic thing. As ever, my exercise is more about a state of mind, than a state of the body.
A great weekend (well, for me) as I managed to go and do some DJ-ing. It always chills me out and makes me think. I have a million ideas flying around - and I need to rationalise as many of them as is possible.

Sunday Morning

Suffused with a strange mix of melancholy, and contentment. Like  I'm being pulled in a couple of different directions. IT's early, and I'm having breakfast on my own - as is so often the case. Noodles, coconut milk, green tea. A glass of cranberry juice, my multivitamins. Everything is quiet, it's just me, and the birdsong. At times like this, time seems to slow to a crawl. I'm looking around the house - it really needs a tidy - that's my first job, once I've drunk my tea.

It's nice to be busy

But then again, sometimes, you can be a bit too busy.
this week has ended on a rather high note though - with a business meeting that sees me wander off into an area I've not really inhabited before. I'm running with some ideas that have been bubbling up to the surface, ever since the demise of Pledge Music. Essentially, it's very, big news, indeed. I'm excited, let's put it like that.
But all of that is just the start of a journey that can twist and turn, and whose destination is still somewhat obscure. I'll be updating you all, as and when.
Apart from that, it's been a week of some chaos, as the process of replacing two of our bathrooms has begun. Mess, noise, and the sense that your house isn't your own: I don't love renovations, I must say.
I've managed to escape, on a couple of occasions, but utilising the gravel bike. It's a Pinnacle Arkose Two, and it's huge fun. 27" wheels, drop bars, ten speed. It's really nippy, around the paths on Ashtead Common - it absolutely shoots up the hills. A little bumpy over the top, but you can't have it all. I do think I need some dedicated clothing though - road gear just isn't cutting it.

Apologies

For the few days that I've not posted: as ever, the Jones stuff got in the way.
We played in Manchester last weekend, at the Academy, for Gigantic. A day of worries over traffic, issues with technology, and changeovers that aren't quite long enough. But, it was one of those occasions where it doesn't matter - at all. We played an absolute blinder. At one point (in the middle of "IBYT", I think) I was overcome by an absolute wave of adrenaline, and confidence. I felt absolutely bulletproof. There was a sense of....mania, perhaps. I almost laughed, with the sheer power of it.
So, a wonderful gig.
And we stayed in West Didsbury - not one of the areas I particularly know, in Manchester, but as luck would have it, it's right next to the Southern Cemetry. One of the largest in Europe, it's a really bucolic, and meditative location - and on a Sunday morning, when I needed to get my head straight, it was perfect to just stroll around. I could feel all of my thoughts and plans, rationalising, and falling into place. It was - in a sense - the counterpoint to the mania of the night before  - but held a similar sense of amazement for me: I walked into the hotel again, feeling that I'd had some sort of Epiphany. I thought about my life, wife and children. About my hopes, and dreams. About my mortality, and my will, my strength, and my failings.
Above all, I thought about the past. There's a line in "The Devil You Know" where Mike refers to the "ghost of the past". It's always rankled me, somewhat - and it took that Cemetery walk for me to understand why. The past isn't a ghost at all - it's very much alive, for me. I don't want to live in it, or live it - but the lessons it taught me are what makes me me. the past walks by my side, as I step into the future, it holds my hand, shows me the way, silently. Everything I ever did, and everything I will do - these two strands, joined together.

I watered the lawn today

That sounds like an innuendo, doesn't it? It's not, really. But I spent a hugely pleasurable half hour, just me, and a garden hose, standing there watering the lawn. I couldn't quite believe something could be quite so calming. Very Zen. Really, I need things like this, at the moment. This year has been....frenzied, I suppose. It's been a non-stop battle with logistics, and personal life, and family. I've felt torn between all of these things, and it's left me quite down. So it's nice to zone out, every once in a while.
Time to forget, and drift, and enjoy life, has been in short supply. I think that's why the Sao Paulo trip ended up being such an absolute pleasure. It was a chance to just be me, in a hotel room, with no knock at the door, no phone ringing. Yes, there was a gig to organise - but we had a chaperone, ad most of the plans were in place. I could just get - mindful, for want of a better word. Free to take in every tiny detail, to enjoy it all, to remember it all. Even now, I can recall what it felt like to sleep in that room, the look of the city outside my window, the taste of the food. I can feel the warmth of the sun as I walked to Faria Lima station. I can feel the pavement beneath my feet, and the clouds above my head.
Every now and again - that's what you need. TO not just live life, but to connect to the process of living.

The cattle are back

They're grazing on the common again. Back for the summer months, on the high and low meadows, and Horton meadow, too.
It all makes me rather happy, if I'm honest. It's that thing about the passing of the seasons, tied up with a bit of renewal. I can remember them leaving, as the autumn was closing in - and I've spent much of the ensuing time, walking the common, tramping over the fields, the paths. I've seen the landscape change, shrink, and die back, over winter. Then, to emerge, the other side, in spring.
It all feels like a privilege, to see the process, and to feel like I'm a small part of it - even if it's just as a bystander.
Getting the cattle back is all part of it. Bring it on, I say.

Back home again

Tomorrow, lots of stuff to do. Top of the list - finish the D160 form, for the US gigs.
Some shopping, some admin.
Today was more BFLF, as me and Dylan played Fabric, which was - frankly - amazing. Would have loved to have done a proper, LOUD set, in there.
Plus, a beautiful day to travel to and from town. There was a moment, standing on the platform at Vauxhall, when the Portsmouth train hurtled through, the sun came out, and the buildings towered over me with this wondrous, friendly embrace. I felt genuinely happy, and content.

Sunrise in Sao Paulo.

Well, almost.

I'm awake, and getting ready for the day. Not a bad nights sleep, given the circumstances - I was really expecting it to be a lot tougher. I think the last crazy Jet Lag night was before the King's Arms, when we were in NZ. That was a truly impossible night - hardly any rest at all.
Last night, I passed out about 10, slept within minutes. Woke at about 1.45, then 3. Awake for about half an hour, then a couple of segments of sleep, again. So, overall, even though it was broken, I suspect I got five or six hours. Really, that's a victory, in my book. I'll need to re balance a bit - nap for an hour (no more!) this afternoon, and I might well be OK.
It's nearly six AM, so it's time to read for a while, have a shower, think about breakfast. There's a huge buffet in the hotel here, so that will set me up for the day, and will more than likely negate the need for any sort of lunch whatsoever.

Amazing.

Well, I'm here.
Back in Sao Paulo. I can't quite believe it, really. There were so many times that this entire thing felt like a pipe dream, so many times it threatened to collapse upon itself, and never get off the ground. But: we made it.

There's the view to prove it: fourteen floors up, from my hotel balcony. We're in a funky part of town, and every now and again, domestic jets absolutely SCREECH over the building, on a crazy turn from the airport. Absolute AVgeek heaven.
Anyway - what was the journey like? Well, it wasn't bad, at all. A cab ride to Heathrow (getting stuck behind a rolling roadblock on the M25 caused a momentary panic, but thankfully, it was over quickly) then, a beer with the boys, before removing myself to the lounge for some reading, food, and charging the devices. The Swiss Air flight to Zach was absolutely exemplary -it left on time, was spotlessly clean and efficient, comfortable and relaxing. We arrived for our layover on time, and it was only a brief walk to get to the train station, which took us to E gates, where the international flights depart. Then, a little light queueing, and we were on board our 777 to Sao Paulo. A good flight - and not that painful  considering it's eleven and a half hours in economy. A Thai vegetable curry (hugely spicy - bonus!) and then sleep (of sorts). A quick breakfast, and some reading, and we were heading into the airport before I knew it. Ridiculously, it then took ages to get through Immigration, and even longer to get through downtown traffic to our hotel, than it did to actually fly from London to Zurich.
Once in the hotel, we ate breakfast (devoured the buffet, basically) and then headed off to do radio interviews. Following that, I briefly danced with Jetlag (an insane half hour when it seemed like I would drop into a sleep that I couldn't rouse myself from) and have sorted the room, and unpacked thoroughly. The room is now meticulously organised, and I feel great.
Dinner in a couple of hours - then I'll attempt to get a decent night's sleep. I suspect it'll fall short, but that's life.

OK, time to head out on the road

Today, I fly to Brazil. And, I have to say - i'm ready to hit the road, I really am. I need some time, and space. Life is so hectic, right now - and the pressures are legion. I need a respite.

Oh go on, just one more.

If I'm going to Brazil, I'll be absolutely HAMMERING this (and the album it comes from)
Magical, psychedelic perfection.

Time to dream of what the next few days will hold. 'Night, all.

48 hours to go

Until I'm off to the airport. Still, after all this time, it seems faintly unreal.
I'm definitely getting excited, though. Should be a blast - if nothing else - to be able to kick back and relax, for a few days. As ever, I intend to try and soak up every last second of this time away, to imprint all of the sights, and sounds, and feelings, as firmly as I can, into my memory. I've learnt to love travel, doing it this way: journals, photos, diaries. Some tailored playlists, just the right book to read. Every last piece of clothing an essential. Nothing more, and nothing less than exactly what I need.
I'm still a bit disappointed I can't find this to put on a playlist - I need to just open the blog, in my Sao Paulo hotel room, and crank this nice and loud:

 Here's hoping for some rock solid wi-fi.

It's the mornings I love the most.

I'm sitting here, at the kitchen table, after a bowl of rice and egg, with a coconut green tea beside me. The house is quiet, the skies empty of planes. It's going to be a sunny, warm (possibly HOT) day today, and you can feel that from the sky already. The birds are singing, and there's dew on the grass. I'm about to feel what that dew is like - I reckon it's time to go out and water the garden. Yesterday I finally managed to give the lawn its first "proper" cut of the year, and sorted out some of the pots. The beds - sadly - that's a different story. They'll have to wait a little while longer.
But, there's Parsley, and Thyme, and Mint to water, alongside a new Sweet Bay. There are Strawberry plants, some lavender, and perhaps most exciting, a tiny Sunflower that Milo grew in class. It arrived home in a tiny cardboard pot, no more than an inch tall. It was summarily transplanted to a lager plant pot, on the kitchen windowsill for a week or two, and now it's time has come to venture out into the big wide world. It's in a large pot on the patio - rather dwarfed by it's surroundings. I'm looking forward to seeing if it can thrive.

Holiday time.

Well, just for a couple of days, anyway. We're off to Boldre, to stay with friends. I'm looking forward to the packing, as you'd expect - and to hopefully having some time to sit, read, do nothing. I've got to try and do some bulletins, so that'll be interesting! Must remember to take my stick, too. There's a DJ shed, I'm led to believe.
It's been an odd day - more drift. I feel a little hollowed out, after the cold, like I need to regain energy, and fitness. The next couple of days should see a little sunshine, and I'd dearly love it if I could find some time to go hiking - even if only for a short while. Must pack my boots.

Can't quite make sense of the idea...

That's I'll be off to Brazil, in three weeks.

Seems so ludicrous. And let's face it, it's been a tortuous journey, to make this show happen - and the plane hasn't even lifted off the ground. One day, I'll tell it all. Anyway - it's on, and I must begin the process of preparation. One way that can be made a lot more enjoyable, is for me to start mentally packing that case, working out the dopp kit, musing on Spotify playlists, etc.
And if I'm doing THAT.....

Then it's odds-on that the new Hania Rani album will be somewhere near the top of the pile. Jeez, it's amazing. Like so much of the other output on the Gondwana label - it's this beautifully downbeat, contemplative Jazz-ambient melange of influences. It's just terrific. There's a Spotify curated playlist of Label tracks, that Hania has done too - I highly recommend it.

Slightly better today.

Though it was a hugely fragmented sleep - not sure why, at all. I was unprepared for exactly how hard this illness would hit - how it would disable me. It's a pretty sobering thought: I'm 53, and this totally clonked me; I absolutely dread to think what this sort of thing would feel like when I'm 70.
Currently sitting in the playroom, watching the kids play with their iPads, and get ready for Kids club this morning. I'm going to the Post Office to pick up a parcel (old school hardcore vinyl!), maybe get a haircut, and do some shopping. At some point, I will need a nap - that's a given, i'm afraid.
Right, let's do this.

As an aside-

This is all I've wanted to hear, today. The sound of my 1980. Everyone I know, I'm wishing you, goodnight.

Well, that's not good.

The cold has returned with a vengeance, and now feels like an insane head cold. And the worst part? I ended up with Tinnitus. I have a horrid roaring sound in my right ear - like a fridge buzzing - and I wasn't prepared for how depressed that would make me. I've felt very down, for a day or two. I'm bashing the sudafed, to help the Sinus pain - hopefully that will help.

So, today was a bit of a write off.

Normal service will be resumed tomorrow (hah!)
I think the cold has broken - and it's not so much of a raging sore throat now. Should make sleeping a little easier. Mind you, I'm still under the cosh - I napped this afternoon (ah - bliss) and after about 45 minutes, I woke up, not even sure which planet I was on. One of those moments when you realise your body is trying so hard to drag you under, into long, deep recuperative sleep - and kicks up a fuss when you try and preempt the waking process. I'd have stayed under for hours, If I could.
Other news? Well, as April is upon us, with all its showers, and unsettled weather, I'm looking to get my Barbour out of storage, and press it into service. Only issue? I think it may well be too small, now. I'm 45 lbs lighter than I was, so I'm thinking a visit to the stockists in Epsom could be in order.

Cold update

Well, it's still there. Throat is a little better - and I suspect that, by this time tomorrow, I'll just be coughing furiously. Oh well.
Listening to the new Rose Elinor Dougall album. Not quite sure, yet. The same glacially cool vocals - with less of the electro-goth electronics. By rights, that should endear it to me - and yet, it's a little.....slight, at the moment. I need more time. There's something wonderfully Saturday-morning-ish about it, and that's a good thing. I do like the fact I'm a little more circumspect, when it comes to things I love, nowadays. I'm sure it's born out of a certain amount of cynicism, but I'm cool with that.

Fighting a cold

My first, for some months. Ugh - it's a bad one. My throat is absolutely on fire. At times like this, I dread going to sleep - as I know it'll be such a trial. Lying there, unable to swallow properly, getting more and more pissed off.
Oh well, I guess it won't last for more than the weekend - or at least, I hope it won't.
Today's food - Chick Pea curry. I'm amazed at how quickly it's become one of my favourite things to eat.

New Music

I spent most of 2018 a little confused about new music. I tried, with Spotfiy, to find a slew of new things, but always came up short: there just wasn't anything out there which grabbed me. Consequently, I spent most of the year wallowing in old favourites (trans: a lot of Miles Davis).

This year, however - it's a different story. Alongside Weyes Blood. I guess the biggest thrill for me so far is the new Chris Cohen album. It's wonderful, of course  - but it flits with a very fragile beauty. At first listen, it seemed a little out of focus, and I wasn't sure if it worked. There's this glorious moment for me, when listening to things online, that suddenly flips into genius. It always happens about forty seconds into a song: I'm thinking "oh this doesn't work, at all" and my finger hovers over the skip button. Then, there's the slightest hesitation - did I get it wrong? And in that moment, there's a sudden release, and the song unfolds its actual meaning. I love it when that happens, and if definitely happened with the Chris Cohen record. So, give it a go - and wait for that forty second reveal. It's worth it, trust me.

More memories.

Drove up to see my parents today - so was back where I grew up. Driving along past Cheney Fields, I had an overwhelming wave of Nostalgia, for the late 80's. Heading back from Pinner station, with Emma, my girlfriend, at the time. Walking up to West Way, then heading parallel to High View. crossing the road at the end of West Way, and into the footpath. Coming out onto the main road at the bottom of Cheney Street. I can remember the clothes I wore, the feel of the sun on my face, and the air around my fingers, as I brushed past the trees.
Memories so powerful I could taste them.

Another Saturday night,

I'm sitting in bed, wondering what to write.
One of the good things about this blog is now letting everything just tumble out, across the page. I'm quicker at typing, so I'm quicker to just dash off some thoughts. Those thoughts then, correspondingly, come  out more accurately than they did in the past. It's great not knowing what a post will be, what I'll talk about - if indeed, I'll talk about anything in particular.
Today has been a day of DJ-ing-  another BFLF, at Fire, in Vauxhall. So much fun, and proof that it all still moves me, even after al these years. I sometimes feel I'm going to seem like a fraud, and not really mean it. But then, the volume cranks up, out come those kick drums, and I'm away. I love it.
And - me and Dylan make a great team. I'm immensely proud of what we've achieved, and thankful for the opportunity to work together.
It's late now, and the clocks change tomorrow. Less time in bed - ugh. Better get under those sheets.
G'night, all.

Next on the list

I need to skate, again. Not just that, but I need to work on my frontside kickturns. I need to style some things out. Fall back in love with the flow. If I don't I'll just end up dreaming about it.

In Dreams

Vivid dreams last night - and more dreams of skyscrapers. It's a recurrent theme - for me, I'm not sure why. Always very tall, square, sheer sides. The whole thing is always quite "vertiginous". Lifts seem to play a constant role, and though the building never changes shape or narrows, the feeling of claustrophobia in the lift, as it reaches the summit, tends to increase. I think last night's dream featured a number of lifts: a main, large lift to a few floors before the top, and then having to switch to a smaller lift, for those final floors.
What it all means, I have no idea. I'm loathe to try and tie it to the current brexit brinkmanship, as it's a theme in my dreams that I've had for absolutely ages.
And - oddly, I dreamt of substances, too. Drugs that had no effect. Perhaps this is informed by my realisation (over the whole sobriety issue) that so much of that behaviour is essentially ritualistic.

Ah, that's quite enough soul-searching for now. Time to do the school run.

Hurrah!

One of the advantages of Google+ vanishing into the ether, is that  - here on this little blog - I'm reverting to a Blogger profile. There's something rather comforting about that, I must admit,
I'm sitting in bed, at the moment, musing on the indicative votes for the Brexit process (huge, huge sigh) and wondering whether to read a little more of the Murakami.
I've also been thinking, in a scattershot way, about lots of things from my past. Oddly, about when I sued to smoke. Coming back from Manchester, in a white 205 GT, doing 90mph down the M6. Stopping at the services, for snacks, and to sit in the hot sun. A full ashtray in the car. Rather shamefully, probably throwing the odd butt out of the window.
How did I do all of this? How did I not notice how bad the car smelled? Or how my clothes stank? All of my mistakes (for that's how they seem to me now) are a part of me, but it's strange trying to reconcile them with how I am now.

First Cut

....But certainly not the deepest. The lawn has been trimmed, for the first time this year. So, the mower is at its highest setting, as the grass is just still so deep, and lush. Plus, it's tricky to get it entirely dry, at this time of year -but obviously, you do need to finally cut it. So, it's a bit of a balancing act. It's a suburban ballet - everyone seems to be looking over each others fences, waiting to see who makes the first move - and then, there's just this weekend where all of us seem to head for the shed, simultaneously.
But, it feels good, that's for certain. The garden looks tidy, for the first time in months, emerging from a really tough winter. Over the next few months, I'd love to do a lot out there - but there's gigs on the horizon. Let's see how it all pans out.

A fragmented day.

Pip is off on the March, today  -so I've got the kids. Except they're all over the place too, with Marnie off at a birthday party, then straight off to Gym. Milo and me will spend at least a couple of hours in the car, zooming around the county, as we pick up, and drop off.
So, the time in between will be spent relaxing, I think.There's not much space to stretch it out into proper plans. I've done the shopping, I've got the meals planned out.... it's all in place.
New Murakami book turns up later, so when it does, I'll get stuck in.

Just write

Sometimes, that's all I want to do. I'm actually getting better at typing now, so I can try and get everything out there, in real time. Previously, there always felt like there might have been some sort of disconnect. So, now I can let it flow, a little. Which feels good, and it's a little bit of a kick to the pants: a way of stimulating my thoughts, and laying them down on the page.
Today has been....OK, I guess. Some achievement, some forward progress. I'm a terrible procrastinator, so grinding the gears is a good thing.
More work on the new car issue (almost sorted - at least, decisions seem to be being made) and a lot of logistical focus on some upcoming shows. That includes, one in the US. First time for me, since a couple of months before 9/11. Time passes quickly, doesn't it?
And I finished the Murakami. I can't quite recall a time when a book moved me as much, and stayed in my mind. A long, slow, exhale. I'm buying another.

New Obsession

Regular readers to this blog will know, that every once in a while, a new obsession arises. I tend to throw myself into something, headlong, and stay there. I did it with Pink Floyd, a few years ago, and more recently - Miles Davis.
Well, the new obsession appears to be a minor offshoot of the Miles stuff.
It's "Sketches Of Spain".

For a long time, I've not really "got" Sketches - certainly, not to the same extent as other Miles albums. "Bitches Brew" has been a constant companion for the last few years - I'm not kidding when I say I think I've listened to "Pharaoh's Dance" pretty much every day. For me, it's become meditative, an exercise in mindfulness. It keeps me sane, inspired, full of optimism, and hope.

But Sketches was different - I never really appreciated it. Partly, I think, for the geographical specificity. To me, it felt like a Travelogue, or a tourist advert. How wrong I was. There's something about the album that's just.....grabbed me. Partly, this is down to my recent jaunt to Edinburgh - I sat on that plane, and made a conscious decision to zone out, and listen to an album, any album, in full. Preferably something I'd not listened to properly before. And there you have it - I just looked at Sketches in the Spotify menu, and thought "why not?"

It is an absolute masterpiece. It's transcendentally beautiful - almost spiritual in its power. There are moments which are genuinely transformative. This being one of them, Miles's solo, around two thirds of the way through, which rises, and then collapses on itself, in a series of jaw-dropping descending, mournful blasts on the horn - is one of the most astonishing things I've ever heard.

- So, It's been three days now, and I've listened to nothing else. I'll keep you all posted, but I suspect this will continue for quite some time.

Edinburgh.

Well, I'm back from Edinburgh. Had a fantastic time - managed to pack a lot in, over the course of just one day. Left early Saturday, got back home about 6pm on Sunday. Relatively pain-free flights, which is always a bonus; though the take-off from Heathrow was a little hairy. I think it was the remnants of storm Gareth, but we were fishtailing down the runway on take-off, as the winds were so strong, and there was plenty of low-level turbulence too. One we were above the clouds, all was nice and serene. Great to see Jason (Narducey - bass player for Bob Mould), he's been a mate for 30 years.

 Having a drink, post-show. Hotel bar, the Radisson Collection, Edinburgh

 Flights there and back were on BA Airbuses. 321's, and 320's.

Always forget how different the weather can be - there was snow on the Pentland Hills.

Overall, it was a great trip. Best thing, for me, about solo travelling, is the chance to decompress: to organise mind, body, thoughts. To lose yourself in the process. that was my objective, and I think I got there. 

The Pledge Music collapse.

This has been a trying time, for the band. We launched two albums last year, via Pledge Music, but the platform is now imploding. We've not been paid, and others are owed sums far greater than us. It's all led to a slew of articles, and podcasts, and interviews, for me. I've not especially loved the attention - I'd much rather have had the funds, and been able to pay my bills! But, if it's a battle they want, then it's a battle they shall have, I'm nothing if not tenacious.
More details - the latest tweets, etc - are here:
It's Wreaked Havoc

Flying tomorrow

I'm off to Edinburgh in the morning - and I'm unfeasibly excited about it all. I just love solo travelling, the calm, and the focus that it brings me. I love everything about it - the airports, the queueing, the hanging around. Watching the world go by, out of the window of a plane.
Can't wait.
Today has been a little fragmented - went looking at new cars, which is always a bit of a buzz. Milo's got a play date, so I've finished cooking for kids, and we're next.

Dopp Kit

Well, seeing as I mentioned it in the last post - here's the Dopp Kit, all ready to go at the weekend.
I do see a lot of posts on all those "lifestyle and travel blogs", where people blog about their perfect travel experiences, and everything seems so shiny, and new. My Dopp kit is slightly more real, I guess.
It's a L'Occitane washbag (a bit tatty now). Bought in Portland, on a family holiday, back in 2015. Transparent, so good for TSA/Security, etc. There's an eye mask (from my last Air Canada flight, home from Calgary) and a spare cloth for cleaning my glasses. A travel toothbrush, and toothpaste. I'd like to use bamboo toothbrushes in the future (as I do at home) but that brush hasn't worn out, as yet. When it does, I'll replace it for something more sustainable. Tins have deodorant (Body Shop Aromoco) and solid shampoo and conditioner. I break fragments off larger blocks, for short journeys. The silver tin at the front has some BLack & White hair wax (lasts forever) and the small atomiser contains my Cologne. Somehwat pretentiously, but also rather sustainably - it's a discontinued fragrance, I have to get from eBay - Crabtree & Evelyn Cologne. The pot of vitamins is actually Centrum Mens 50+ (oh, the glamour - but they work, for me). there's only a few in there, which means there's room for some Melatonin, and a couple of sets of earplugs. Plus, the mini cologne bottle sits in there too, nice and safe.
So, overall, I'm happy with it. It's beaten up, it's not flashy, and it doesn't show that well, but it just WORKS, and that's the main thing, for me.

Quiet morning.

Just sat and read a dozen pages of Murakami, which really calmed me down. I feel much more contemplative, when I've been reading,  no matter what specific subject. And I'm looking out of the office window at a post-storm sky: bright, deep blue, solid and reassuring.
I'm also starting to look forward to my Edinburgh trip on Saturday. I get to fly, ac couple of times, I can stay in a nice hotel, meet friends, and think. I have a bag ready to go, with as little as I can take. A bare minimum of clothes, a book, and a dopp kit I've had sitting in the wardrobe for a while. I'm fascinated by effective dopp kits - keeping things tidy, efficient. I've got little slivers of soaps and deodorant in tins, hair wax in a small container, tiny pots with ear plugs and melatonin. there's a single razor, and shave oil, so as not to take up too much room. the entire thing is a finely honed machine.

Stormy.

It's blowy, squally, and downright horrid out there. Marnie has her bikeability lesson today, which the school are adamant will NOT be changed, bad weather or not. Sheesh.
I've had a haircut (holiday trim - in time for Edinburgh!) and am not settling down to do some admin.

I'm also listening to a lot of tunes that Hall Blaine played on, as he's just passed away. RIP, to one of the greatest - if not THE greatest, ever. I could listen to him, all day long. This clip really sums up why: the song isn't really that remarkable, at all, but it's Blaine's beautifully poised, swinging beats, that lift it into the realm of sheer magic.

Winding down.

Well, it's been a long day - but relatively stress-free. The party passed off well, Marnie did her swimming, the house is tidy, the fire is on. School shoes cleaned, school bags packed. Breakfast things on the table, ready for the morning.
And me? Well, I'm using the above materials, to make myself of bowl of something. That's hajinomoto, in the glass jar. So, rice, egg, Japanese soy sauce, and seasoning. No prizes for guessing what that makes......

All the news that's fit to speak.

Sitting in the playroom, looking out at a very wet garden (torrential rain last night) and checking news stories for tomorrow's bulletin. I really need to see if I can get it out of the way today, as tomorrow is always crazy. First day of the week, kids back to school (bags, clothes, shoes - all dispersed around the house) trying to get out of the house first thing in the morning is stressful enough without having to find another half hour to do the news. Plus, the cleaner turns up in the middle of all that chaos, and is liable to switch the hoover on.
So, I need to look at the NME Music news page, and parse some content. It's quite amazing how ALL of it seems to be about Michael Jackson, and R.Kelly. I did a bulletin - Friday, I think, where it was just sex abuse allegation stories, for three minutes. Ugh.
And, to top it all off, Milo's rescheduled birthday bash is this afternoon. Not quite a full party, just mates coming over for Pizza and cake - but the house will be a war zone for a few hours.
So, there'a trip to the supermarket that needs to be done, a kids party, a couple of meals to make....it seems so quiet, right now. I suspect that I'll look back and wonder what the hell went on, when I post later.

Reading again.

I know I've said it a couple of times before, but I'm reading again - and actively trying to increase the amount I read. That, more blogging, writing diary entries when I'm away (as in next weekend in Edinburgh). It's all an attempt to be less....transient, I suppose.
So, I'm reading Norwegian Wood by Murakami, again. I've given it a go before - and got a third of the way through, but drifted off. So, it's back to the start, with a fresh sense of purpose, after a year or two. I was like this wit the Wind Up Bird Chronicle too, and loved that second time around. I think there's an odd thing with Murakami, where your head has to be in the right space. You have to open your eyes - but also, your mind - and there seems to be no way of forcing that. Once you're ready - then you're ready.
Looks like I am.

Link desert.

So many of the posts in my archives contain links. And frankly, a lot of them are useless. I wish I could see what on earth I was on about. Stuff like "THIS has been making me laugh all day". That's it. That's the sum total of a post, and it's just a dead link. I think, if I'm going to make this a valid reflection of my life, I have to be a little more perspicacious about dropping in links. I can recall when I learned how to do it, and then it unleashed a torrent of the damn things. All pointing this site into a myriad of other directions. I guess what I need now is just one direction: my own.

Walking

That's what I do now. All the time - and as much as possible. Looking at the stats on my phone, yesterday I managed a little over 20,000 steps. Around 17km. I absolutely love walking/hiking, and it's nice to come to the realisation  that it was something which was always there. Yesterday was a lovely walk - though a little breezy. Following the Thamesdown link, across Ashtead Park, Rookery Hill, Chalk Lane, Crampshaw Lane, Stane Street - across the M25, then following the path until a long left turn round the golf course, and back via Slough Lane into Headley. All in all, around two and a half hours. I'm not kidding when I say I'd love to be able to do it every day.

How to start the day

Or, how not to. It's been a depressing beginning, for a Wednesday. Family stuff, normal pressures. Making me feel hollowed out, and useless. So, I'll try and balance that out, by showing you how my days normally start - and how that's helped me.
In the last six months, I've managed to finally get fit, and lose some weight - part of that has been because of sobriety, but it's also a process that's happened just because it felt like it was time. I've lost 45 pounds, which is a huge amount, I know - and oddly, it's actually been rather easy. In the past, it's always been half a stone here, a stone there. But this time around, the willpower I had discovered since kicking alcohol has served me in really good stead. I just managed to find a course of action, and stick to it. Perhaps more importantly, because I've now accepted change, that process was actually a lot of fun.
I'll deal with exercise another time, but I did want to focus a little on how I changed my diet - and the biggest part of that was finding a routine that helped me out, in the morning. Breakfast is such an important meal - not just for the nutritional values it gives you, but also for the statement it makes. This is how I'm starting my day! This is what I'm doing with my life!
I needed to find something that did all of those things, and was healthy, tasty, and felt right. So here's how it pans out.
I tend to get up before everyone else. Pip sets an alarm really early - 6am. But then, tends to snooze. Me? I'm now wide awake. So, I'll get up, no real point in lying there looking at the ceiling, So, I have time to cook, and to think. Breakfast for me is quite Zen - a chance to organise food, to be methodical. And I think that trickles down to me, and the rest of my day. "Start as you mean to go on", if I had to distill it into one simple phrase.
I have Soba Noodles for Breakfast, with various drinks to accompany. Soba are just wonderful: low GI, virtually no fat, low calories, lots of protein, and fibre. I get my packets from Amazon, on a regular order - they're authentic Japanese noodles, and not expensive at all. Soba noodles need five minutes on the hob, so while they're cooking, I'll get everything else together. Fill a Japanese tea cup with Green tea. Prepare a glass of iced water. Get a vitamin pill (Centrum Men's 50+, ah, old age!) And a glass of coconut milk.
Once the noodles are cooked, they're rinsed in cold water, and drained. Into a small bowl, and then topped with two finely sliced green onions. Shaken over the top - some toasted black sesame seeds, and some Furikake. Then, add some Tsuyu broth. This gives you that real Umami kick - some sweet, some salt. It's about 100ml of broth, I guess.
And that's it. Like I said - it's about having a healthy, great breakfast, but it's also about starting the day off, on the right foot.

Adsense.

Well, I got rid of it.
I had "earned" about £1.20. In three years. They don't make any payments until you hit sixty quid - and at current rates, that was going to take another decade, or more. And looking at the blog, with adverts, it was really, really ugly. So, I'd rather do without the cash, and have this little diary of mine as a bit of an oasis, away from all of that commercial nonsense. Hope that's OK.

More Keith.

It's been preying on my mind, a little, over the past day.
I know that there's been a ton of press about what a genius he was - and how he made the Prodigy great, and how terrible that someone so gifted could throw it all away. Well, what if it was us that created the persona, not him? I'm starting to think we created the need for that cartoon genius - and Keith was bright (and sensitive!) enough to realise the gap existed, and filled in the spaces. Then, I'm thinking ti trapped him. What If he didn't really want to roll out the cartoon, again, and again? I know how this feels, and it's not great, at all. If what you do on stage, doesn't really come from the heart, then it drains your lifeforce, at an astonishing speed. I'm more heartbroken for Keith, than I was, and in a different way. I realise some people won't get this - but looking at this from the point of view of being on stage - it really hits home, to me.

A sad day.

Found out that Keith Flint has died. Really sad news- and shocking too: suicide at the age of 49. A sobering day, and a bit of a sucker punch. The Prodigy were hugely important to me, to the band, to a lot of people. For me, though - it was that first album, and the rush I got, listening to those churning breaks, and riffs. I know it was Liam doing all of that, but it was Keith expressing it, on stage. I saw them play the Camden Palace, back in '92, and Keith just made it all make sense, to me. He got to live out the dream, to live through the music. That's all I'd ever wanted, being in a band. I didn't care they weren't my songs, I just wanted to have the music to play in the background, while I could look out across a sea of faces. That's what Keith did, and he did it better than anyone. I was in awe of him, if I'm honest.
Living the dream, and living it right, is sometimes better than actually dreaming it, in the first place.

Sunday Afternoon

...and I'm feeling a little out of sorts, myself. A little bit of the willpower I've gathered around food, and snacking too much, seems to have evaporated. I think it's time to knock the sugary stuff on the head again, and cut back on other fripperies. I've done so well over the last six months or so, that I don't want to see that effort wasted, even a tiny bit.
The wind is picking up - there's a storm on the way, apparently. So, it's time to light a fire, tidy up the house, get the bulletin sorted for tomorrow morning.

Spanner in the works

Milo's Birthday party today - except he's just decided to throw up. So, everyone's off to the cinema without him, poor love. Also means I have him all day tomorrow. Ah well, can't be avoided. This means i'm online perhaps more than I'd anticipated, today. So might try another blog post later. I know that my posting frenzy follows a long-established pattern - hey, I'm excited by the blog! Then - ah, I can't be bothered anymore....
So, I'm going to try and keep it up this time. After all, I managed sobriety, didn't I? Looking back through the archive, I'm absolutely astounded about how much I promised, in respect of kicking the booze, and how little I delivered. However, it's also heartening to see how close I got, in 2016, which was some sort of start. I gave up, finally, in September 2016.
Sobriety, above all else, is a battle of willpower, and If I won that battle, maybe i can do the same thing with Blog posts.
As I've said so, so many times, we'll see.

One of the best things about archives

Is seeing, and listening to what you were inspired by, so many years ago. I've found a few things that made the years fall away - The Upper Room, Trespassers William....but top of the pile has to be this. Some absolutely gorgeous Japanese minimal glitch-techno ambience. Phew. How fantastic is this? Above all, it reminds me of the train to Brighton. Sitting there, looking out of the window - past Thornton Heath, or Wandsworth Common, or Merstham, Horley - travelling home, when that was home. After a day of work in London, knowing that the seaside beckoned. No matter how packed, crazy, or delayed that train was - it was always a pleasure to relax, and leave my cares behind. This was the soundtrack to that journey, so many times. Listening to it, even now - I can hear why.

Need to get this out there

As a descriptive post, for where I am, and what I'm doing. I've had a little look back through the archives, and a lot of posts seem  to be anchored around times, places, and snapshots of my life.
So, I'm on the bed, it's a grey March morning. The cat is next to me, purring quietly. The kids are watching telly (Marnie) and playing PS4 (Milo). I've had my Soba noodles for breakfast, and I'm going to think about a stroll on the common, once Pip gets back from the gym.
The common has been a big thing for me, over the past six months. I've walked at least four miles a day, most days of the week. That's one of the reasons I'm skinnier than I was. That, and completely giving up alcohol. I read back through the archives, last night, and was astounded how much I used to drink, but also how much I revelled in it. Those days are gone.

Life's good. I mean - well, it always is, but it's good, this morning, it really is.

Another one of those"Hey, where did the time go?" posts

Ugh.
How long has it been? Social media has made blogging a bit redundant, for me - and I can't help thinking that's a real shame.
So, I'm going to try and put stuff up again, for the hell of it.
I've managed to turn a lot of things around, in the last couple of years, so being able to document some of those things will be ....beneficial, I think.
Plus, I've been looking back at the archives for this blog, and I always think how much I absolutely LOVED writing it. With that in mind, I've also decided to do a design revert - and take it back to the old school. This Orange theme was the first I ever used, IIRC. It's nice to have it back.