Saturday, 8 September 2012

Ho hum ... blog-wise as idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean...

' Day after day, day after day,
  We [royal] stuck, nor breath nor motion ' *
.. blog-wise.

Y'know, I've been wondering what to say in a blog and if I should just write something, anything, anyway!

With a lot of interest in certain things, for example House Music, I was doing fine at one stage to expect I could just bloody well post some amazing house classics or rarer heard stuff. Which I really should.

I've just returned from the South of France, yesterday. I spent two weeks there, most of it in Nice, part around Cannes... (Which was very hard actually for this sufferer of chronic fatigue and severe, frequent migraines.) ... And did very little but just about made it going, just about stayed alive and just about made it back again.

The relaxing, high point of one's life ...
... the focus that is needed in the mind (so strongly it is also in the body and movement and existence)
... about the real situation on the earth, periodically, maybe regularly, like a tonic wine or cup of the most healing, inspiring, refreshing, renewing, situating spiritual MEAD (or 'made wine') that winds you up again like the clockwork doll who needed it so long ago, but got by, but anyway for whom it works again
... well, ceases much to be all that at all when it is such a challenge, a real chore, something of a nature close to a killer - surprisingly, something bringing on serious physical body pain in trying and worse in the mind and head. To try so hard, in reaching, though just intending to naturally make happen (but it doesn't), what one took for granted once, what is defined as needing to be there to be taken for granted, what should never be "tried" at all ... is muddling everything up.

I don't mean that it ought to be that a person can take having a holiday for granted. No, not at all. I know for many it is a luxury, and many, many, basic food is a greater thing of luxury. Which is very sad, indeed (such is this place, alas).

I was referring to some kind of mind thing, some kind of existence and identity thing about living on the earth. I mean that it's the very kind of thing - visiting the South of France to me (and other Meditteranean places, perhaps only European Meditteranean places, not sure), for example - which has an identity itself as something innately, inalterably of spritual relaxation and the most calm, refreshing inspiration. A necessary tonic involving identity and reality. (Which, if in part or substantially of illusion, nevertheless is so strong it amounts in fact to something that isn't actually illusion anyway, it couldn't be. Reality can work that way.) And that identity of that real facet of life - the visit to a certain place or places which live on in the mind or even become part of the mind - lives in a most special, vital, essential, delicate, sensitive position within a very important place of one's personal identity. ... ... And it doesn't work, and seems it might churn your whole identity and being up, perhaps tragically, perhaps forever, if it happens that it is strangely such an effort it seems a challenge, something that nearly kills you perhaps!!!

Anyway, it was OK, good too! And better than OK!
(Added 14.10.1012: And worse and much worse than OK, of course. It was real and not a figment in my mind since it ended.)


So, just some words about holidaying or travelling, and places which can be part of you very existence after some time, and identity. Unless you escape, perhaps... ! Hahaha!? I don't know. It's far too strong for me. There is no escape. Places are me ... to some really large degree (more than just Meditteranean places). And I decided long, long ago, even if escape could somehow be possible, it's fine anyway, it's how it is, and, in a sense, what can be higher (meaning more valid) or other or more true than that?

While in Nice, I thought I should post a blog entry about visiting, either during or soon after the visit. While I couldn't think what that should be, I thought, why not just make a visual blog entry - you know, some photos, perhaps with shaky camcorder footage, made into a quick home video. I'd still like to do that, and want to make a proper post holiday Blog post, even though I took very little footage or photos indeed. A quick flash video to come maybe.
         I'll get some kind of blog going eventually, I hope. No, here it is! Yes. It happens to you.
         You don't happen to it. It can't be happened to. But you can be happened to.
         No, I made the bloody move to go and write tonight, that's it, isn't it? Isn't it?

Slower house - soul classic ...
of Chicago heritage.
I rediscovered this in late Spring or early summer this year,
I think thanks to Groove Armada, and their occasional guest spot,
show 6 Mix takover on BBC Radio. While, I remember, I usually rediscovered it
once every 6 months to a year, quite regularly. But always like a rediscovery every time.

It's the great, great Larry Heard,
Mr. Fingers
"What About This Love"

(Thanks to Youtube promotional / social sharing, by "LILJAMIE")

Buy "What About This Love" by Mr Fingers:

Groove Armada, 6 Mix takeover (2 hours)
BBC Radio 6 (UK)

A leftish radio show / long mix from the dons who went their own silent way for a while.
Download here unrestricted- Groove Armada 6 Mix 15.06.12

(Note: Legal download sharing, as audio is otherwise unavailable,
and not available commercially.
Fair use exception in Copyright Law due to special interest,
if used not for profit or gain
though copyright remains with Groove Armada / BBC.
While the copyright exception doesn't allow many repeat plays of each track,
without also buying them.)

BBC program info with (usually incomplete!) tracklist:

"6 Mix" Groove Armada, 15.6.12, BBC website page

Enjoy... :)


* 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner'. Coleridge-Taylor, or Taylor-Coleridge, whichever is correct, I can't remember. Probably the first one and I guess I should remember.

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