Bits and pieces

I'm weary, after a weekend of helping out (and drinking) at a rather fabulous music festival. So today I've been recovering, pottering about and generally not exercising my brain in any meaningful way. There's probably plenty to write about but I'm not sure I've got the attention span tonight.

Meanwhile, lately I've been writing thousands and thousands of words (quantity if not quality) about my recent trip away. I'm not a hundred per cent sure what the purpose of those writings are, not that I'm too concerned. Initially just a personal memoir, and at the moment unnecessarily bogged down with detail. Maybe a creative exercise too: I've been enjoying sitting down and focusing on doing something productive day after day over the last couple of weeks, something which had been previously lacking.

I know that being immersed in writing has been a bit of an escape too. The more I do (whether writing, music or whatever) the happier I am.

So rather than coming out with a tired and incoherent blog tonight I thought I'd post a tiny (and slightly odd) snippet from the above writings: a couple of paragraphs relating to the drive to the airport in the early hours.

...by the time we hit the M1 we were listening to the delicious strains of “Lonely Woman”, opening track on Ornette Coleman’s “The Shape of Jazz to Come.” This was Juan’s choice*, and it was a good one.

As we continued down the motorway, I looked east, and there were the vestigial remains of last night’s sun, or the very first signs of dawn, which wouldn’t be in full swing for another hour or so. I marvelled at how some things in the world work like they’re supposed to. Look east in the morning and there’s the sun – or evidence of it at least. And if east was to my left, then that meant that we were going south. Brilliant! That was the exact direction we needed to be heading.

I looked at Juan who was due west of me – which was lucky since that meant he was in the driver’s seat. Everything was working out well so far.

“You all right?” I asked.

“Yep fine.”

I looked behind, which was north, and was equally satisfied to see that as we were heading south, we were leaving north behind us. At times like this it was good to be alive.


*My mate Dave's name has been changed to Juan for the sake of confidentiality