renaissance man
Yesterday was very busy. We went to Peckover House during the day. And in the evening we were at Hannah’s, for dad’s 74th birthday.
By the time I got home, around 9.30pm, there was precious little time for any further work on the Blue Room. All I had time/energy for was a quick bit of paint around the ‘seams’.
I adore the drumming of Albert ‘Tootie’ Heath. What he brings to Herbie Hancock’s Fat Albert Rotunda, for example, is pure perfection. ‘Wiggle Waggle’ and ‘Tell Me A Bedtime Story’ are two tracks I’ll never tire of listening to.
He recorded and performed with a veritable who’s who of jazz. And is on lots of albums I love. And as well as being part of the famous Heath Bros trio, he even lead a few sessions under his own name. Such as these two:
Actually Kawaida is really a Mtume album. And only nominally under Albert’s leadership. Mtume was ‘Tootie’s’ nephew (son of his elder sax player brother, Jimmy).
I’d meant to interview him for my putative work on music of the early 1970s. I missed that chance, more fool me! Damn… another legendary figure exits the stage.
The above has been reissued on CD, by Xanadu. But his best known work is most likely that with either his brothers, or the notable jazz giants he recorded with, like Dexter Gordon, Coltrane, and Herbie Hancock, amongst many others.
The postman got me out of bed at about 8.15 am, for this. I’m back abed now. I’d love to have done an unboxing video on these. But tired as I am, this post’ll have to suffice.
These three CDs, all from the early to mid ‘70s, by Charles Kynard, and on Bob Shad’s Mainstream label, came in a pretty large box. They were kind of swimming around inside. But at least they were well packed, and appear to have arrived in perfect order.
This post is merely about the excitement the arrival of these CDs causes me. I’ll review the contents in due course. Meantime, here are the backs:
Some rather odd titles on this eponymous 1971 release.
More doo-doo-doings. Chuck appears to have had a thing for this kinda shit!
This – ‘73s Your Mama Don’t Dance – is the album, a copy of which my dad acquired on vinyl, many many moons ago, which introduced me to Kynard and his music.
Another connection I made with him, that I forgot to mention till now, is that he appears on Tom Waits’ superb Blue Valentines album, as well (on ‘Romeo is Bleeding’ and ‘Wrong Side of The Road’).
Wow! Another utterly brilliant maritime history book. I find the more I read on this exciting topic, the more I want to read.
I recall buying this book, for about £2, at a charity shop in Peterborough. It was on a whim, and has proven one of those lovely serendipitous moments, when everything seems to fall into place with a ‘just so’ rightness.
As I type this, it’s 6.30 am, and outside I hear a fairly heavy rain (Chester cam in about 30-40 minutes ago, soaked; a very soggy moggy!). This is entirely apt. As I’m currently reading about the post action storm, and the fate of the two fleets during ‘The Storm’ segment of this truly superb book.
Way back in January, 2023, a false accusation was made against me. The accusation was thrown out of court and I was acquitted just one week ago yesterday.
In the intervening fourteen months I’ve developed certain mental habits; such as running over the events continually, in my mind, and worrying about the taint of such charges clinging to me even if/when found innocent.
It’s 5.23 am, as I type this. I woke up about 4.45, and went for my usual middle of the night pee. But I haven’t been able to get back to sleep. Why? Because the desire to ‘clear my name’ is still bothering me.
I suspect I will eventually fall asleep again. Because I’m utterly shattered. Having this source of anxiety hanging over me for over a year hasn’t been conducive to calm, happiness or general well-being. And the permanent exhaustion is, I believe, just one aspect of the depression it’s brought on.
Another aspect of the ill-effects is demotivation. Why bother striving to achieve stuff, if everything just turns to shit? And this is esp’ and doubly the case when there seems to be zero fuel in the tank.
All of this side of things rather inclines me towards seeking redress, for defamation of character and loss of earnings, if nothing else. That said, I want all this shit to cease and go away entirely, so I can get back to being happy and contented, as I had been, very unusually for me, circa late 2021.
And that won’t happen, of course, if I put it all front and centre by pursuing a Civil Case. Hmmm!?
Today we were out most of the time. So all I had time for, ‘pon our return, was a quick lick o’ paint. Well, I sanded first. Then painted. Tomorrow I’ll neaten up the edges.
We went to The Fitz today. Not specifically to see this Blake exhibition. But just ‘cause we love this superb museum.
I had to have some blood tests done earlier today. And we had to wait an hour for them to get around to us. This meant less time at The Fitz.
This show needs more time than we could give it today. Esp’ as we also looked at various other parts of the museum.
Here’s the non-Blake stuff:
Every time I go to The Fitz, I photograph this particular little painting of Vesuvius. The artist’s name? Anicet-Charles-Gabriel Lemonnier… no wonder I always forget!
Okay, so now to the Blake stuff. I’m presenting my photos here neither in the order I took them in, nor the order they’re in in the gallery. Rather they’re just grouped as I fancy.
I’m quite a fan of C. D. Friedrich. And this is the first time I’ve seen more than one image by him in the flesh. The next seven photos are his ‘ages of man’ allegory. They’re small, monochromatic, and utterly amazing. Jewel like in their pristine execution and detail. Phenomenal.
It’s interesting that death, our ceasing to exist, has become synonymous with various fantasies or visions of ‘the heavens’. Perhaps this inadvertently says something more profound about us than the candy-floss visions themselves suggest?
My secular reading of such ‘religious insights’ – another being The Fall, or the awakening of consciousness as a curse (as opposed to a blessing) – is that our wishful thinking, as facile as it is on a surface level, reveals a deeper and more profound awareness (whether acknowledged or not) that to live is to suffer. Therefore to die is to be released from suffering. And surely that release, in itself, is heavenly?
I’m glad to see at least one Gillray in this show! I can never get enough Gillray, frankly.
A chunk of the exhibition is given over to German ‘spiritualist’, Bohne. The above is from one of his crazy pop-up books. I’m not at all sure what I make of the battles between spiritual and material that form such a strong theme in Blake. I only know I find it all fascinating and beguiling.
I was sorely tempted to buy both the exhibition catalogue, and the Thames and Hudson Complete Illustrated Manuscripts. But I can’t afford to do so, alas. Maybe if I earmark a few extra delivery shifts?
This last image is rather naive. I like the set it comes from. Indeed, as mentioned above? I’ve more than half a mind to acquire the complete printed works. The. edition they have at The Fitz is £40. Amazon sell the same for just over £20!
For now, I’m just getting the snaps I took up on my blog. This superb exhibition was way too much to take in in the 40-60 minutes we had. So another visit is required, ASAP.
So I just did the second coat or round of plastering, up where the ceilings meet the walls. Here’s how it was before the re-plaster:
Once the plaster’s dry, sanded, and re-painted, I reckon it’ll look pretty good. At the very least the surfaces are now contiguous. I might also paint the insides of the storage area white. But keep areas outside (e.g. where the fridge freezer will be) blue. Hmmm?
I’ll also need to re-install a section of coving. Another job I’ve never done before. Taking the damn stuff off is one thing! Putting it back up? We shall see, I guess.
Tidied up the area with a lickle lick o’ Dragon’s Lair paint, by Valspar (B&Q’s own brand). Teresa also helped me cut a load of carcassing timber, for framing out the storage.
The timber I bought, from Wickes in Wisbech, also happens to be blue. Owzabout that, then!? I believe it’s treated roofing slats. But whatever it is, it’s kinda fun how it ties in with the whole blue room vibe.
I had a quick peek again, afore turning in for the night. The plaster’s still drying out. By tomorrow it should be fully cured. Then it’ll need a wee sand, and some more paint. Might need to poichase another tester pot of Dragon’s Lair?
Then it’ll be time to start constructing the storage itself. I still haven’t decided exactly how I’ll be doing it!
Just a miscellany of stuff in this post.
I think the above speaks very bluntly and directly to me, in respect of what I’ve gone through in the last year (or fourteen months, to be more accurate). I could seek redress? But that might not be the best use of what little energy I have.*
I’ve been Googling the parties who accused me and helped prosecute me. I can find almost nothing about the policewoman, PC Charman (badge #1719), nor the complainant, Frankie Roffey (‘Dolly’).
Other potential parties to investigate include Rachael Beard (the ‘manageress’, who acted on Dolly’s accusation), and bar-staff Demi. I think the whole farago may have started due to my interactions with the latter.
I did find a John Mellody locally (pictured above). A guy giving this name made up a totally fallacious pile of crap, including saying he accosted and remonstrated with me (in a part of the pub I didn’t even visit!). This ‘witness’, like the complainant, didn’t even bother to attend court.
Anyway, steering the Einsteinian course, I shall rise above the sea of shit that was sprayed over me in this last very trying year.
Instead, I shall focus on the necessary work to be done at home. And enjoying what we are blessed with. Such as this pear tree, coming into blossom:
All that crap, below, is going up the ladder, like me. Patrick is staying with us. He helped me get it all up and out of the way. Thanks, buddy.
A pet hobby horse for me:
This, below, came up on my FB feed. I’m not normally one for theatre. But this looks interesting.
I’m also starting to feel a return of desire to pursue my interests in drumming, and music more generally.
* Following on from a picture of the powerhouse player that is Montagner, above, let’s return to the theme of exhaustion. I am currently both able and willing to sleep 10-12 hours a night/day. It appears I need this sleep. Or am I just addicted?
After years of raging against Toryism, I’ve finally relented. If you can’t beat ‘em? Join ‘em. Around here – well, across the blighted UK – they seemingly can’t be beat. So, it’s time to bring back Aulde Albion. Let’s set sail for a better more medieval England.
In this spirit, I’ve booked tickets to see this great man. Interviewed – well, given a platform by – our heroic MP, Steve Barclay. Can’t wait!
Ok, so I’ve changed horses midstream, politically. But other traditions and habits – we are talking conservatism – persist. So, today’s T-shirt du jour is that great warrior of Truth, Donald Trump.
Whilst I’m at it, I’m rejoining the fleecy flock of Our Father, who Art in Devon. And, as attractive as The Church of England is, I’m going straight to the High Altar, of The One True Church, Catholicism. I mean, for starters, they have the best venues:
And relax… why did I fight it all so long?