British Stuff . Introspection . Music . Sadness
David Bowie
On January 16, 2016 by Speranza
My memories of David Bowie and my years as a teen in 1970s Britain cannot be separated from one another; they are stitched tightly together like a tapestry and as I discovered this week have not lost any of their potency.
I actually watched my hands shake when I read the news of his passing and have not been able to write about it till today.
My much older brother (whom I very fondly call ‘Spock’ ) took great enjoyment in regularly skewering my admiration of Bowie at the time although interestingly, this “phase” would continue into my adulthood since this was Not. A. Puppy Luu-uuv). Spock would frequently suggest that if Bowie was really the talent I claimed he was, he would not have to resort to the ‘gimmickry’ of different personas etc.
(Let’s just say that my brother was not entirely comfortable with Bowie’s sparkling, off-the-shoulder body stocking …)
Years later I stopped arguing with him or anyone else because if you are asking this kind of question you have either never listened to the music or, you just didn’t get it.
In which case, I feel badly for you – but cannot explain it.
To me Bowie was a poet, a brilliant, self-taught intellectual (that crisp, almost Royal annunciation wasn’t acquired on the streets of Brixton) and despite the glittery beginning I absolutely lusted after him. His voice could bring me to my knees (the earnest phrasing, the lingering over a syllable) and I listened over and over, often deep into the night, creating my own anthems, hearing something different each time.
Apples . The General
Apples
On September 20, 2015 by Speranza
So I went to pick up some peaches yesterday (we went through the large container I got last week very quickly after sharing with Frasier who’s been over to nobly assist The General with some technical issues) and was told that the peaches are done for the season!
Not earth shattering news I understand but I was saddened that The Season had ended so suddenly for me, at least, and worse still without my noticing that it’s now close to the end of September …
Uncategorized
Why Reading (At All) Still Counts …
On April 20, 2015 by Speranza
Dana Girls
Frasier ( Son #1) has often told me that people are not reading less now but rather, reading differently. He cites his own reading habits here – and many of his hipster friends – who may dip in and out of many respected, intellectual websites and blogs/instagram accounts daily but not necessarily read an actual book with any degree of regularity. But is the ability to settle down and enjoy a longer body of work for pleasure gradually being edged out by all these shorter blasts online?
Is there a case to be made about our attention spans atrophying since the onset of the internet?
I’ll try to keep this brief …
Being A Girl . Being A Mum . Introspection . Uncategorized
Sometimes I’d Like the Cream
On March 24, 2015 by Speranza
I’ve been paying more attention lately to my female co-workers, friends and families and the way they talk and deal with the men in their lives and it is completely fascinating to me how men are still being revered and pacified (I use this word intentionally) so automatically and unconsciously. It’s been absorbed into our psyche and our culture to keep them on the content side of things.
(Or maybe it’s just anything for a quiet life since so many men are renowned for their tiny sense of tolerance and their quickness to unnecessary anger.)
Which has obviously worked for them during their tiny childhoods.
Uncategorized
Sparks Fly Upward
On February 12, 2015 by SperanzaI’ve recently taken to listening to internet radio in my kitchen, often late at night with a glass of wine and I am freshly astonished how music that I have literally not heard for years can immediately evoke a feeling I have left alone (or in some cases been strenuously avoiding) almost at once. Yes I know this is not profound but it’s still rattling to be transported to that exact place in time when I first experienced the hornet’s sting of unrequited love, abject, soul twisting misery and of course a ‘70s haircut. (Those last two may have been connected come to think of it …)