The most delicate dance which I perform is that which attempts to deal with the closer relationships which impact upon my life. Within three days, my friend whose husband is dying within the year. The friend whose relationship of twenty five years is crumbling. The friend whose wife does not understand why the relationship which appeared fine - or at least salvageable - is now dead or has that appearance. What can I offer - a warm concerned voice on the telephone which does little more than be there. I can’t change the underlying factors which have led to the decay now apparent. Is this sufficient? Obviously not. I pruned the tree ferns today and filled the bin because I needed to move more than not needing to move. Is this what happens after decades in a relationship? A mid life crisis with profound effect.
What gives hope. Dunno. We continue to live. Some situations are so profoundly debilitating as to defy description. I play because I can and because I know ‘this will not last forever.’ Which ‘knowing’ depends upon when you find me.
I raise my glass - which genetics and rude, good, undeserved health allow me - and go to eat ... for tomorrow and today.
Three days pass and I’ll be away for a few days and will miss The Imperial Tuesday night. I’ll get to play on the farm with an amplifier and microphone and do some work and reconnect.
I’ve been reading Cathy Buckle’s ‘letter from Zimbabwe.’ which appears on rense.com and which never cease to move me. A wonderful voice to ‘read’.
My next door neighbour is a film maker and recorded my performance at Ironfest. Hopefully, it will appear - if nowhere else - on youtube.
I love ‘Whose line is it anyway.’ I cannot help but laugh wholeheartedly and marvel at the wit displayed.’ It’s playing in the background. Thanks.