Jan waxes and wanes ...
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Goshen Fields Tennessee |
I used to drive the long way back from the store to go through the fields. Most had been paved over but not these ones, brown and red top soil with crops that changed the colour of the landscape every year. Now I walk back from the shops but in Tennessee USA you didn't walk you drove a truck. Mine was red.
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Blaxhall, Suffolk |
Living in Suffolk I am often reminded of those rural ploughed fields of Tennessee. It was there that I saw my first red moon, watched eclipses of the moon, walked around in the blue moonlight with indigo shadows and fireflies dancing in a surreal frozen lunar landscape.
The moon rising behind the oak tree became the logo of English Valley Music.
I became aware of her power and place in time and space.The beauty of her reflections mirrored in women's cycles. The constancy of her appearance every month.
Driving back one Saturday night I saw the full moon hanging over the fields and realised this was the last full moon of summer and everything was about to change again and so the story of the song written with Chico unfolded. The celebration of the harvest and the coming autumn, the end of the old and the beginning of the new mixed with the pagan earthiness of dancing under the last full moon of summer.
And as the love affair ended we celebrated the life of a love that never dies - it just gets buried, sprinkling seeds that wait for the sun to replenish, renew and make it grow again. A lot can happen in 13 moons.
Likewise in 13 chapters - the Sound of You continues ...
Estelle hears voices...
The Eclipse of 9th January 2001 in Sterkfontein when the moon turned to mud stays with me. Transformed rust.
Today the sun was too bright and there was sticky
expectation in the hot east coast breeze from KwaZulu Natal. Now in the silence as the last phase shrouds, the wind is
holding its breath.
The Vlei and the reflection of the earth's shadow down below
shifts an inky blank ocean circling slow motion three dimensional over the pale
valley.
They are two, crowded round an oil lamp and the dull glow is coming from behind a thorny Acacia tree to my
right. No shadows. Speech bullets taking aim. Dialect, tone, inflection.
What now? I know I heard them. I know I saw them. Was I tapping into a source that has always been there since before
it happened?
The next day I go climbing. Stretching my arms out and exhaling,
staring and squinting at the peaks where the noonday sky drips hot blue onto
steaming rock - the lamp is lying under a Protea tree.
Chico says...
Well, I've been doing a lot of traveling and this time it was very hard for me to meet our Wednesday deadline because I was playing in a place in Germany where I did not have access to the internet. One might think that this is unusual in this day and time but there are still pockets out there where technology has not fully been infused in daily life. The wonderful thing is that we had an incredible concert in this small place, we filled the hall and brought music to people who were extremely appreciative and receptive. After the concert we had a meal that was one of the great culinary experiences in my life.
On the one hand I stressed at the feeling of helplessness of not being able to meet my responsibility of posting on time this week and letting my partners down, on the other hand I found myself feeling as if I had gone back in time to where these things were just not a concern, the most imminent concern of those around me was the soundcheck, the concert and to make great music. Fortunately the concert was of the highest level and that in the midst of all of this I came to realize our topic for this week: "Can't Stop The Music," things may be delayed but they will continue.
Well, here I am, late but enthusiastic with a thought: "You don't always get what you want when you want it but when it comes it's always right on time."