And so this is the very first post of the year! It has been a while since I last updated my diary, and now it is better late then never.
Last year was an exceptionally busy year, and from the very first day of January, I expected no less of this year either! After all my Christmas services were over, I thought I could sit down, enjoy myself and relax. However, this was not the case. My duties as a singer in my local church where I live resumed, with a cathedral visit, standing in for the vacant choir. We were, to use a phrase, on point. With everything the right volume and tonal balance with ourselves and with the organ, physically sitting high above us, we filled the cathedral with our voices in beautiful harmony. All this was done in what was nearly complete candlelight with a ginormous Christmas tree round the corner - it all set quite the scene, of Christmas a few weeks previously.
It is now the middle of February, and my timetable seems to ever fill every waking hour with activity upon activity, task upon task and menial housework on top of all this. As well as all the usual orchestral work I undertake, I am musical director of an operetta company. With rehearsals for a few hours on Monday, Thursday evenings, and Saturday afternoons for the cast; and Saturday evenings for the pit orchestra rehearsals - the work load only seems to increase. Sorting out a cast of twenty and heading an orchestra of the same size, organizing and managing and completing admin work, is no mean feat, after each rehearsal, I travel home exhausted. Only, I know that the end cause will be a success, for all the hard work I put in now will reflect in the performances in mid-march. At the end of the day after rehearsals, I get in bed with a cup of freshly made tea and pore over rehearsal notes and the full score for improvements and tweaks that I can make in the next rehearsal - the show has become my life. For another five weeks, I must live, breath and sleep the show; until that glorious moment of relisation that for a few weeks, I can rest. Well that is until the next big project starts - a series of concerts that I have been asked to perform in. The life of an artiste is a busy one, but ultimately, it brings joy to the hearts of many, and that is the fundamental reason, for me, as to why I am a musician.
This year has not disappointed me in love either, and for the first time in a very long while, I can enjoy the delights of February the 14th, as a happy man with a beautiful partner. We had known each other for many many years, but as every sentimental film goes, had never "talked". So after performing in a concert together on Christmas Eve, we went for a drink and to talk on the years of conversation we had missed. And so after exchanged numbers at the end of the night, we carried on talking. This then developed into a full scale game of verbal tennis, firing well placed shots of dates and deep meaningful conversations. "The rest as they say, is history", is how the saying goes, but sadly is not the case for us, as she lives three hours away from my house in the north.Trust my vulnerability to emotionally attach myself to something which on paper is impractical, my partner and I work it out as it happens, whilst constantly making sure we are both happy and comfortable.
Although only approximately eight weeks have passed in this year so far, so much has occurred, that I have not had one single moment to sit down and write to you, the reader, so I apologise in the rushed and hasty nature of this. So for now, I turn over and bid you good night!
The (somehow not so and at the same time ever) Lonely Artiste.
Christmas Eve, Wednesday the 24th of December, 2014
The Christmas Holidays have arrived!
With the arrival of the aforementioned vacation, comes at a price for the local
shops. Aside from making a majority of their profit from the student population
which makes up well over a third of the city's overall population due to the
two universities and various higher education colleges which have left this
weekend - the city feels a little deflated. Despite this, the Market Square is
resplendent with white Christmas lights in the shape of artistic baubles which
overlook the actual square itself filled with the annual German Market and
temporary ice rink. Lots of last minute shoppers fill the city all looking for
last minute bargains, of which I am not one of the partakers.
And
now finally it is Christmas Eve, and the onslaught of Christmas services and
lack of sleep, of which includes the Crib Service, Midnight Mass, and the
Christmas Day Eucharist in one church followed immediately by the same service
in another church – begins this afternoon. All my hard work leading up to these
services which started about a month ago has pulled off and I am ready for
whatever the diocese and deanery throws my way.
I am no scrooge and nor am I one of those people in society who
talk about how "Christmas is over commercialised" - I personally
prefer a quiet Christmas. There is so much pressure to fit and conform to
society - and indeed my Christmases are always chopped up and dissected by the
numerous Christmas services which occur with a large frequentation over the
initial Christmas period. Despite this, in regards to food which as family
tradition has always had it, Christmas dinner on Christmas, after the crib service
and before midnight mass was always done to nothing less than perfection and
pulling in all the trimmings and extras you could imagine. My childhood
Christmases are of legend now; but to this day, one cannot help but get excited
to see what is in actual fact a feast laid on the table before you. My younger
self could not contain myself at all the amazing food set before me, and if you
ask my parents to this day - they will adamantly say that I am no different to
this day.
This year as I have returned home to my parents for Christmas and my
old role as an organist is relived for a few days - I only have the four
services of the Carol Service, Crib Service, Midnight Mass and the Christmas
Morning Service. It will bring back so many memories playing the organ to all the
festive favourite carols - I used to have such fun playing the organ parts - it
will be when I do them this year, provided my fingers remember their old ways!
In regards to my organ work, of course I have
prepared seasonal favourites for my postludes, but I have included some “Easter
eggs” if you will (I don’t know what the Christmas equivalent is for this) –
things that will surprise the congregation if they listen hard enough!
Unfortunately I am not in my old church this year, I am playing in the main
church of a local town – with a nice big choir to boot – tonight and tomorrow’s
service should go down a storm. Quite literally and physically pulling the
stops out, is what for me, being an organist at Christmas is about. Filling the
church with what I hope will be glorious sounds emitting from the pipes is what
I will be trying to achieve – let’s hope no ciphers or dying of wind chests
happens on my watch tonight.
Last time I played in this church, the blower to
the organ died and so what can only be described as the sound of a dying duck
was emitted from the organ as it tried to squeeze out the remaining air from
the wind chest. I was mortified to say the least but luckily there were two
strong men in the congregation who were prepared to work the old bellows at the
back of the organ so everything went as smoothly as I could have hoped past
that point. Luckily, this church obviously had forgotten this had happened;
otherwise they wouldn’t be so keen to have me back. And so Christmas day itself
will be a combination of waking up early, showering, having breakfast, rushing
off to the service, coming home, eating Christmas Dinner and finally sleeping!
This will be the last post of this year – and my,
what a year it has been. 2014 has passed through safely enough, with enough
illness, tiredness, heartbreak, romance, murder, tragedies for the world in a
lifetime. Despite this, I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a most
joyful New Year. Let us wait and see what the year 2015 brings us!
On a side but not as unimportant note; lots of
elderly people spend Christmas alone, as many of them have either no family, or
do not have the capability emotionally or physically to move and or see people
to celebrate it. So if you have a spare moment, go and spend some time with
someone lonely this Christmas – it might not make yours or seem that important to you, but it will certainly
make theirs.
Thank you, and goodnight for now.
The Lonely, but busy, Artiste.
Sunday, the 7th of December, 2014
It is the final few weeks of the year, and one week before this city is left by most of the student populous which will result in a relatively quiet city for a month. Alas I will not be here to appreciate it as much as I could do as I myself are visiting my parents back home for a short while. Christmas is a time that one should not spend alone. As a result of this, in my youth when I lived with my parents, we would always take mince pies and carol books along to the lonely elderly to give them comfort and company, mince pies and carols. This resulted in a friendlier and closer community, as I can only imagine the terrifying world of having lost a love one and oneself being the only one to console with about it.
Two more concerts left of the year in this city before all the multitude of Christmas services begins. Every year, a hectic slalom between churches and services begins as soon as I arrive at my parents. The preparation to have all the preludes and postludes ready by then needs to start now if I stand any chance of being the standard I need to be - no less than utter perfection. As an organist, my Christmas repertoire consists of perennial and congregational favourites and lesser known pieces which often take the limelight over these more popular pieces. I have almost decided my Christmas eve and Christmas day postludes - a chance to both literally and metaphorically pull out all the stops. With an aim to have a large congregation and large choir all uniting in the annual timeless classic Christmas carols, I will firstly need to practice to oblivion but also give the organ builders a call to give the organ a good tune. Oh the joy of being an organist! Still, after the Christmas Day services - I plan to sleep, after about no less than 6 services in the space of 24 hours.
The weeks ahead will prove strenuous. And now to begin.
Two more concerts left of the year in this city before all the multitude of Christmas services begins. Every year, a hectic slalom between churches and services begins as soon as I arrive at my parents. The preparation to have all the preludes and postludes ready by then needs to start now if I stand any chance of being the standard I need to be - no less than utter perfection. As an organist, my Christmas repertoire consists of perennial and congregational favourites and lesser known pieces which often take the limelight over these more popular pieces. I have almost decided my Christmas eve and Christmas day postludes - a chance to both literally and metaphorically pull out all the stops. With an aim to have a large congregation and large choir all uniting in the annual timeless classic Christmas carols, I will firstly need to practice to oblivion but also give the organ builders a call to give the organ a good tune. Oh the joy of being an organist! Still, after the Christmas Day services - I plan to sleep, after about no less than 6 services in the space of 24 hours.
The weeks ahead will prove strenuous. And now to begin.
Sunday, the 30th of November, 2014
The word busy once again springs to mind as I contemplate the week's events. Various church services and concerts have arisen resulting in what can only be described as a chock-a-block timetable. Concert after concert, service after service; time to sit down and think has been a rarity. Nevertheless, I have a free moment and thought I could sit down and write about my life from my last post to this.
The city symphony orchestra a couple of weeks ago needed some last minute percussionists, and so being the thrill seeker I am - set out to do so. With only two short rehearsals, I and another emergency dep had to perfect our parts on only two hours practice. Intuition told us all we had to do was watch the conductor. This was rather difficult at times, as being on snare drum, in rehearsals, would try and match my tempo when actually I was trying to follow his. This resulted in what can only be called as a musical heap. Nevertheless, the concert ran smooth with only a couple of minor hiccups which we ironed out within a beat. At the end of the couple of hours long concert, at the point when the applause came round, we in the percussion section got a cheer. Not the polite applause that the rest of the orchestra received, but a well intentioned and warm cheer. I went home a content and happy man.
Today was largely spent in bed, after a bout of sickness last night - today was spent recuperating drinking tea and listening to choral music to rest my shattered nerves. The concert I performed in the night before (yet more concerts!) was a success. With over 200 singers and a 90 strong orchestra, organ and heavy percussion, we played through our repertoire with only a few minor hiccups. The applause after we had finished was monumental, but not before the beautiful minute silence after the final double bass notes had died away. The silence was so special and so moving we all held inner smiles which then broke out amoungst everyone when the applause had finished.
So many concerts in the past few weeks, and yet more to come. After missing advent vespers at church, I need to recover as soon as is humanly possible if I am to survive the concerts this coming week (another couple of orchestral concerts, jazz gig, various church services as well as going home and serving a church for the Christmas services). The life of the lonely artiste only gets busier and busier, time to crack on and learn the shed-load of music I will be piling through over the next few days and weeks. And my time starts .... now.
The city symphony orchestra a couple of weeks ago needed some last minute percussionists, and so being the thrill seeker I am - set out to do so. With only two short rehearsals, I and another emergency dep had to perfect our parts on only two hours practice. Intuition told us all we had to do was watch the conductor. This was rather difficult at times, as being on snare drum, in rehearsals, would try and match my tempo when actually I was trying to follow his. This resulted in what can only be called as a musical heap. Nevertheless, the concert ran smooth with only a couple of minor hiccups which we ironed out within a beat. At the end of the couple of hours long concert, at the point when the applause came round, we in the percussion section got a cheer. Not the polite applause that the rest of the orchestra received, but a well intentioned and warm cheer. I went home a content and happy man.
Today was largely spent in bed, after a bout of sickness last night - today was spent recuperating drinking tea and listening to choral music to rest my shattered nerves. The concert I performed in the night before (yet more concerts!) was a success. With over 200 singers and a 90 strong orchestra, organ and heavy percussion, we played through our repertoire with only a few minor hiccups. The applause after we had finished was monumental, but not before the beautiful minute silence after the final double bass notes had died away. The silence was so special and so moving we all held inner smiles which then broke out amoungst everyone when the applause had finished.
So many concerts in the past few weeks, and yet more to come. After missing advent vespers at church, I need to recover as soon as is humanly possible if I am to survive the concerts this coming week (another couple of orchestral concerts, jazz gig, various church services as well as going home and serving a church for the Christmas services). The life of the lonely artiste only gets busier and busier, time to crack on and learn the shed-load of music I will be piling through over the next few days and weeks. And my time starts .... now.
Sunday, the 9th of November, 2014
Tis the beginning of November. Out with the autumn and in with the winter. This years autumn has been particularly colourful this year, with all the trees in my neighbourhood reflecting the red and white bricked buildings. Now the end of the autumn has come, and so all the trees are bare perhaps bar the remaining surviving leaves, clinging on the trees by a limb. However, all the leaves lie freshly on the ground; walking to church on Sundays is particularly enjoyable, scuffing the brown, reds, yellows and golds in my shoes as they carpet the pavement. This sadly will only last a few more weeks, when the leaves rot away, leaving no colour on the trees or the city pavements - but that's where the Christmas lights come in. Over the past week, the city council has been putting up the Christmas lights in the city, adorning the streets with sparkling and bright rows of lights. Over ten thousand bulbs come out every year, and yet each time - it feels as if the city has been reborn.
Another busy week and and another busy schedule, for the third week in a row for the show that I am directing, my pianist and assistant have not turned up. This makes proceedings very difficult; my job is to take the performers beyond the notes and into the music, but seeing as I am limited to the job of playing the notes for them on the piano, means I cannot clearly bring them in and bring them off when they are needed to be so. Although I am more qualified to do the repetiteur job, my job now is Musical Direction, not playing the piano for the singers' references. Despite this, for the first time in a long while, I have had the time to actually sit down and put pen to paper in the form of music. However this is not my own composition, this in actual fact is my job of arranging the shows' orchestral parts to a much smaller ensemble, reducing the size of a normally 30+ players strong orchestra to a group of about 15. This is no mean feat, as there are at the very least 36 hours hours worth of parts to input into the computer in the first place; and then many painstaking hours to come as I re-write and re-organise the music from about 40 individual parts to about 11. In any case, as they say - the show must go on!
What is really quite frightening is the fact that Christmas is fast approaching. Firstly, there is the palaver of buying Christmas presents and cards, and then secondly the slog that is the Christmas haul - every church service conceivable essentially occurs on the few days that is the Christmas festival. This year again promises to be a busy year, with churches in my home village all demanding my services. As a fool or opportunist, I don't know - I accepted. Let the hard work and preparation begin!
Another busy week and and another busy schedule, for the third week in a row for the show that I am directing, my pianist and assistant have not turned up. This makes proceedings very difficult; my job is to take the performers beyond the notes and into the music, but seeing as I am limited to the job of playing the notes for them on the piano, means I cannot clearly bring them in and bring them off when they are needed to be so. Although I am more qualified to do the repetiteur job, my job now is Musical Direction, not playing the piano for the singers' references. Despite this, for the first time in a long while, I have had the time to actually sit down and put pen to paper in the form of music. However this is not my own composition, this in actual fact is my job of arranging the shows' orchestral parts to a much smaller ensemble, reducing the size of a normally 30+ players strong orchestra to a group of about 15. This is no mean feat, as there are at the very least 36 hours hours worth of parts to input into the computer in the first place; and then many painstaking hours to come as I re-write and re-organise the music from about 40 individual parts to about 11. In any case, as they say - the show must go on!
What is really quite frightening is the fact that Christmas is fast approaching. Firstly, there is the palaver of buying Christmas presents and cards, and then secondly the slog that is the Christmas haul - every church service conceivable essentially occurs on the few days that is the Christmas festival. This year again promises to be a busy year, with churches in my home village all demanding my services. As a fool or opportunist, I don't know - I accepted. Let the hard work and preparation begin!
Sunday, the 2nd of November, 2014
It has been an extremely long time since I have had the time and the place to be able to sit down and over analyse my life; for I have had a dark soul as of late. Various first world problems have occurred in the time that has elapsed between my last lengthy period of being able to stop and ponder on life's intricate yet ever growing more worryingly bigger - problems and inaccuracies which directly are the bane of our hopes dreams and yet ever fuel our deepest and darkest fears. In a nutshell, the past month has been, no less than hell. Not quite the burning inferno that scriptures speak of, I have struggled and fought off a rather infectious yet hacking flu, of which I must have caught off of one of the new university students who recently moved into the city. Alongside all the fresh faces of the newly enrolled student populous; a severe bout of flu and colds and coughs were rife throughout the city. I was not prone to this. For almost a month, I lived off of hot cups of tea - every quarter of an hour to supplement the moisture and hydration which was being expelled from my body through the medium of a rasping cough and torrential cold. The power and heating in my house has also decided to follow suit and pack its metaphorical bags off to the power company; as a result, if I didn't wear thermal socks and long-johns and a vest underneath woolly clothes - I would have easily caught pneumonia or hypothermia. I was born and raised in the country, which resulted in a slightly thicker skin than my city-dwelling friends; Despite this, I still half-froze to death in my house. You never realise the value of hot water when there is no way of obtaining heat anywhere else in the house you live in. Due to this, I spend at the least, fifty pounds worth of tea and milk and sugar over the past thirty days.
Recently, an acting company approached me to take up the post of Musical Director for their next production - of a comic opera/operetta. Opportunistic or foolish are the verbs you can choose to apply to me here, whichever works best for you. Either way, two nights a week, getting through the music for a song or chorus number, learnt and off-score, is no mean feat. The first few rehearsals however, the rehearsal pianist and my assistant failed to turn up. Nevertheless, leading from the piano, meant that I was in my comfort zone and powered through the music. Although we zoomed through a number or two per the session, we did not often go back and revise what we had learnt; even though the show was months away, as soon as the music is learnt, there is the small matter of the staging. Giving them only 5 mins break halfway through the rehearsal perhaps is very stingy, but it means we make use of the two and a half hours that we get two nights a week. At the end of each rehearsal, a couple gin and tonics are needed by everyone, maybe a little shattered, but I keep everyone busy resulting in a fun rehearsal. In the new year, I will need to sort out the small matter of getting together a chamber orchestra. It may need to be small, but I will need a good strong ensemble to underpin the madness which I am positive will erupt onstage. At the end result, I don't expect a sell out show, but the knowledge that we did a top quality production with a high musical standard - casting is next week, so getting the characters right is essential. Fingers crossed we power on like a train with no breaks - relentless and ever steaming forward relentlessly.
After my last adoration and infatuation of a lady, I was not in a rush to meet anybody new. I was always courteous but nothing more than cold and polite to everyone I have met and in my social circles. After the way I felt that my heart could not take any more pain, and so I bided my time for the pain and heart-ache to dissipate; and in any case, she found someone special in her life. A stable income, a nice house and a nice guy, and being the owner of a rather adorable Labrador to boot, her new partner was ideal for her and her situation. I supported her in any that I could as a friend; now we are the best of friends, because I knew this was where she was happiest most. Nothing was awkward, because we were adult about everything, and she knew that I had no ulterior motives other than to make sure she was doing the right thing for her and ensuing her happiness. In any case, we still meet up from time to time, drinking coffee and laughing about various anecdotes we tell each-other. However, in my low period a few weeks ago, whilst I was suffering from a bout of bad inner feelings and illness, I met a person. A fellow pianist, and a flautist, she too was new and exciting. We met in a bar, with some mutual friends of ours. After a few too many drinks, we hadn't really talked but yet we parted thinking nothing of it. Later a few days later, we crossed paths and exchanged telephone numbers and had lengthy conversations. It may be very early days yet, but we spend hours together but we provide such relief from each our own work. Taking the slow road here is the only option as I really want to get to know her really well before throwing myself in the deep end again. After having made a couple of "casual" inquiries, I discovered that she may, for the sake of coyness, she wouldn't say either way - feel the same way in the want to get to know me properly and really well. Things can only hopefully move forward from here - both of us has admitted to the moment we step into our own homes, hoping for a phone call from the other or an answerphone message, and checking hours later even if there has been no ringing.
In all, this has been a very eventful few weeks, illness, sadness, an opera which is still going on and me meeting this person. With the changing of autumn to winter, the boiler-man announced that he will come and fix my heating next week, so I can look forward to toasty evenings in. The only thing I would change about the last few weeks - more chocolate digestive biscuits.
With love from the (not so) Lonely Artiste.
Recently, an acting company approached me to take up the post of Musical Director for their next production - of a comic opera/operetta. Opportunistic or foolish are the verbs you can choose to apply to me here, whichever works best for you. Either way, two nights a week, getting through the music for a song or chorus number, learnt and off-score, is no mean feat. The first few rehearsals however, the rehearsal pianist and my assistant failed to turn up. Nevertheless, leading from the piano, meant that I was in my comfort zone and powered through the music. Although we zoomed through a number or two per the session, we did not often go back and revise what we had learnt; even though the show was months away, as soon as the music is learnt, there is the small matter of the staging. Giving them only 5 mins break halfway through the rehearsal perhaps is very stingy, but it means we make use of the two and a half hours that we get two nights a week. At the end of each rehearsal, a couple gin and tonics are needed by everyone, maybe a little shattered, but I keep everyone busy resulting in a fun rehearsal. In the new year, I will need to sort out the small matter of getting together a chamber orchestra. It may need to be small, but I will need a good strong ensemble to underpin the madness which I am positive will erupt onstage. At the end result, I don't expect a sell out show, but the knowledge that we did a top quality production with a high musical standard - casting is next week, so getting the characters right is essential. Fingers crossed we power on like a train with no breaks - relentless and ever steaming forward relentlessly.
After my last adoration and infatuation of a lady, I was not in a rush to meet anybody new. I was always courteous but nothing more than cold and polite to everyone I have met and in my social circles. After the way I felt that my heart could not take any more pain, and so I bided my time for the pain and heart-ache to dissipate; and in any case, she found someone special in her life. A stable income, a nice house and a nice guy, and being the owner of a rather adorable Labrador to boot, her new partner was ideal for her and her situation. I supported her in any that I could as a friend; now we are the best of friends, because I knew this was where she was happiest most. Nothing was awkward, because we were adult about everything, and she knew that I had no ulterior motives other than to make sure she was doing the right thing for her and ensuing her happiness. In any case, we still meet up from time to time, drinking coffee and laughing about various anecdotes we tell each-other. However, in my low period a few weeks ago, whilst I was suffering from a bout of bad inner feelings and illness, I met a person. A fellow pianist, and a flautist, she too was new and exciting. We met in a bar, with some mutual friends of ours. After a few too many drinks, we hadn't really talked but yet we parted thinking nothing of it. Later a few days later, we crossed paths and exchanged telephone numbers and had lengthy conversations. It may be very early days yet, but we spend hours together but we provide such relief from each our own work. Taking the slow road here is the only option as I really want to get to know her really well before throwing myself in the deep end again. After having made a couple of "casual" inquiries, I discovered that she may, for the sake of coyness, she wouldn't say either way - feel the same way in the want to get to know me properly and really well. Things can only hopefully move forward from here - both of us has admitted to the moment we step into our own homes, hoping for a phone call from the other or an answerphone message, and checking hours later even if there has been no ringing.
In all, this has been a very eventful few weeks, illness, sadness, an opera which is still going on and me meeting this person. With the changing of autumn to winter, the boiler-man announced that he will come and fix my heating next week, so I can look forward to toasty evenings in. The only thing I would change about the last few weeks - more chocolate digestive biscuits.
With love from the (not so) Lonely Artiste.
Sunday, the 7th of September, 2014
In direct contrast to the week before last, the past week has offered nothing other than rest, recuperation, time to clear up the house and compose some music from the relatively quiet abode of my study. My coffee consumption has fallen significantly this week as caffeine hasn't been needed for the mental and physical exertion I used the week prior to this. Au lieu, my daily intake of caffeine has been supplemented by multiple cups of tea over the 18 waking hours over the day. Added to this, alongside my increase in tea intake, the whimsical need for chocolate digestive biscuits has also risen triple-fold. On the first evening of the week I made a delicious vat of sausage casserole which lasted me a couple of days. Amongst my musical jobs, my hobby is cooking; although my diet waxes and wanes according to my work schedule, I always adore the luxurious smells and odours of the kitchen - from ever since I was a young boy. Every time I open packets of raw vegetables, meat, spices and herbs, my inner child once again comes out to play and I am submerged in a world of steam, heat, and at the end of it, a vast pot of food bubbling away on the gas stove.
September the 1st fell on a Monday this year. Although it is a silly thing, I do like the 1st of the month to be on a Saturday or Monday, for some strange reason. Other than looking organised and neat, it sits comfortably in my brain. It is a silly whimsical thought, but this and other trivialities keep my brain thinking lightly as opposed to it's usual state of over thinking and overwork. This provides light relief to the massed musical thoughts that usually pervade my musical brain. In my childhood, the 1st was always a dreaded time as the start of term would always be close by. Then at university I revelled at the extra month of holiday, watching all the schoolchildren grumpily and reluctantly returning back to school whilst I lazily lived day and night in my bed. Now, being a self employed musician get no such pleasure as I get no holidays or sick leave or any break of any kind.
September the 1st fell on a Monday this year. Although it is a silly thing, I do like the 1st of the month to be on a Saturday or Monday, for some strange reason. Other than looking organised and neat, it sits comfortably in my brain. It is a silly whimsical thought, but this and other trivialities keep my brain thinking lightly as opposed to it's usual state of over thinking and overwork. This provides light relief to the massed musical thoughts that usually pervade my musical brain. In my childhood, the 1st was always a dreaded time as the start of term would always be close by. Then at university I revelled at the extra month of holiday, watching all the schoolchildren grumpily and reluctantly returning back to school whilst I lazily lived day and night in my bed. Now, being a self employed musician get no such pleasure as I get no holidays or sick leave or any break of any kind.
Sometimes I disparage at my career, overworking myself at times, losing sleep for work which is never permanent. Despite that, I love music, it speaks for my soul in times of darkness and is the only way I can express myself since spoken and written communication I find difficult and not adequate for what I am often trying to convey. Even so, if I don't work, I don't earn and money is a thing scarce in this industry unless you are at the very top. Despite this, I get by and cope - living within my means at all times yet enjoying life's pleasures such as cooking and enjoying music. One might say I am married to my job; being a bachelor in life is made almost bearable by the job which captivates me at every turn. Half the time however one thought pervades my being. Although I have music, I am alone. I have friends and family but I yearn for a someone more. My endless waiting for the one has not yet been fruitful and so I remain solitary and so very alone.
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