SNZ are not the only thing that make me happy

Ah, many things make me happy. This weekend I experienced at least one...

...I was treated to hearing two young blokes playing their brass/woodwind instruments. Jonno and Andrew. Both are learners. Neither are yet fluent - but ah I enjoyed seeing and hearing them in all their amateur glory. Both looked extraordinarily cool. I do love a good brass/woodwind instrument (If only Emsie still had her trombone those Collins kids could have been their own brass section for a blues brothers style covers band. V cool). Singing 'Be thou my vision' and learning about chord inversions was pretty happy-making too.

Another thing that made me happy was watching William Carey CS' Beauty and the Beast last night. Some really lovely singing (esp Maurice and Gaston ;)). Be My Guest looked fantastic! Way too much ad-libbing - I would have killed my kids if they had deviated from the script like that! It was also fun sitting next to Chris and Emma - awww legends.

Long strong discussions about life, the world, money, growing up make me happy. And people talking about what really matters to them (so long as what really matters is worth a damn). And yummy rolls for lunch. Finding out that one of my first ever students who HATED school is training to become a teacher (hehehehehehehehehehehehe - he'll be REALLY good).

Old times that become new times make me happy! I love friends that shape and bless you and make you LAUGH! And drawing pictures on the train while listening to murder mysteries. Having friends who love to pick you up from the train station after deciding not to walk home through murder park in Islington at night. Pad Thai. And messing about with watercolours. And sleep....

so now I'm listening to Squirrell Nut Zippers. Begin the day with brass... end the day with...

Can you tell me something 'bout last night

Hmmm - a good kind of couple of nights.

Friday:
The grandeur of God flamed out like shining from shook foil...

Extreme jazz with the Civic Big Band live at the View Factory. Three trombones, five saxophones, four trumpets, rhythm section and keys... crazy arrangements, the solid bright caramel of tenor saxophone competing with the shimmering blonde liquid of the altos...we marinated in sweat, we danced until our ears and feet bled.
We hooted.
We howled.
We did not go gentle into that goodnight - no, our old age did burn and rave at the close of day. We raged, raged against the dying of light.

Saturday:
Ah! morning the brown brink eastward sprung...

Youth and poetry as we dived into the smithy where words are wrought into iron and came up grasping a few gem encrusted brands, hilarious, enthralling...linguastic (that's not a typo and thank you very much to Caleb for making up the word).

One funny little skewer for your enjoyment (thank you Elisa)...

Tenderheartedness
by Harry Graham

Billy, in one of his nice new sashes,

Fell in the fire and was burned to ashes;

Now, although the room grows chilly,

I haven't the heart to poke poor Billy.

I l o v e i t

Vide cor meum

Today I bought the soundtrack to Hannibal. Rather a disturbing film, I don't recommend it. But as part of a mini opera that Hannibal goes to see, the film contains one of the most beautiful arias I have heard. I think it is the reason I watched the film four or five times when I first hired it out - though I didn't understand it at the time. I thought there was something strange and compelling in the film itself. No, it was this music.

This piece of music moves me indescribably.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zty3SL-8Azg

resent-...(ah) ment-...(ah)

Ahh - savouring the speaking of that word.

It is an ugly one.

resentiment

And when its sentiments rise and swell,
like an uneven ocean or a clanging bell,
I place a careful smile on my face...
(Is it fooling anyone in this place?)

A good story takes a long time

We are preparing for our feast of stories. Looking for the right speakers (we have a couple already).

A good story really can be something to feast on. Right now I am reading Sir Gibbie by George MacDonald and each sitting is like a little feast of good things. As well as being transported to a different time, place and world I am allowed to catch a glimpse of the glorious soul behind the story. It's gold.

And I have been listening to my friend Ben's last demo, Postcards from a garage. Many stories told, delicately shaped until they become songs, humorous and moving, lovely and light.

My favourite at the moment...

She was born with a fiddle on her chin
the imprint there for all to see
little calloused fingers and she gave herself
to the whisper of horsehair on steel.

While the papers complained of a retail lull
each roll and cut her hand knew well,
and her memories were like musical lines
and she walked the street in 4/4 time...

Is it all for nothing?
Is it all at stake?
What defines a person but the hammers we find
and the ground we break?

So pretty, so sad, such great questions...

Last night I was treated to a larger story in song. It was a history of temptation, and lasted 1hr 40mins. Needless to say lots was left out! But what was said was enchanting. I couldn't help but be caught up in the excitement of the tale.

I am part of a larger story - the story of of a broken but splendid humanity...


Go to Ben Scott's myspace music and have a listen.
www.myspace.com/bensong or www.myspace.com/limeandsteel

Mexican Ganglord

So recently Vanessa sent me this message and I found lots to think about in it:

"I really like that quote [Ed- Henri Nouwen book - see previous post]- it is particuarly timely because I am realising that I will often focus on perceived rejections or negative things instead of on all the love and kindness I am extended. My prayers have suggested that the key is to focus on all the good things and be thankful for them...

I think we are meant to be here to enjoy life - maybe original sin or being fallen is that we can't see all the good around us anymore. But God is slowly waking us up and setting us free to be dazzled but how much good and beauty and love there actually is in the world.

We just don't see it. But as we get our eyes opened we learn to cherish, and to feast. And get happier. And feel less pain, or a different healthy sort of pain. Maybe its like the itch and ache you get when a wound is healing? Hah, thats nice and poetic :)"

Thanks Vanessa, my good friend.

Thankfulness

It's my friend Helen's birthday today. She and her family are suffering greatly at the moment. But when I saw her, her eyes were shining.

"I love my birthday," she said. "When I look back over the past year and see the journey I have been on from despair to great hope, I can't help being thankful."

It's a good gift, this ability to be thankful. I have recently been meditating upon the following admonishment, from Henri Nouwen's Home tonight, attempting to let it fix onto and grow inside me...

The first rule is simply this:
Live this life and do whatever is done in a spirit of thanksgiving.
abandon attempts to achieve security, they are futile,
give up the search for wealth, it is demeaning,
quit the search for salvation, it is selfish,
and come to comfortable rest in the certainty
that those who participate in this life
with an attitude of thanksgiving will receive its full promise.

From Always we begin again: The Benedictine way of living by John McQuiston, 1996.