a year in the countryside (sweet earth flying)

one year in the countryside 

(it's the anniversary of horsemouth's coming out here into the wilds of herefordshire).

true he has been back to the city for something like two months all told in that time (he should total it up).

in that time he tried to support his father through the getting treatment for his cancer, the treatment of his cancer itself and then to support him through his death. then to support his mother through the funeral and the adjusting to the new dispensation (the illness and then death of the family dog for example). we are now coming back round to the point where he started (planting vegetables etc.).

there is a fair amount of consternation at the new tasks. horsemouth is wondering about the wisdom of his being out here at all. shouldn't he just leave his mum to get on with it? there's an alarm system. there's a friendship network, there are community tasks. 

there is no plant and produce sale at the village hall this year. instead there's a goodbye do for the postman who is retiring. 

in a bit (like the day before) a walk on the common. probably then rake up some more grass (a task his mum has described as 'a waste of time'). 

after a boiled egg and two slices of toast for breakfast horsemouth has just had two cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches for dinner, he's got a small pot of tea to be getting on with also. this is the usual pattern. 

yesterday was the last day on which rain was likely. today possibly even sunshine. (until the weekend). we have days approaching 21C. 

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it is the morning. horsemouth has his coffee. it's flooding down in texas/ it's flooding down in rio grande do sul/ thailand is steaming in the heat - it is (some of it) el niño (and some of it is global warming). here it is grey and overcast. this week decent. next week rainy and shit. 

it is the second day of the annual sweet earth flying festival (recorded may 6th and may 7th 1974). it is the 50ieth anniversary in fact. 

'confusions about the place and the way in which I grew up...'

this will be the first entirely written in the morning blogpost in a while. 

yesterday afternoon zoom beers with howard. he has developed a sudden interest in the writings of joan didion and has ordered a copy of where I was from. 

coincidentally horsemouth has just read this and, inspired by his conversation with howard, took to re-reading it (hopefully with greater attention this time);

'such was the blinkering effect of the local dreamtime that it would be some years before I recognised that certain aspects of 'our california heritage' did not add up... this book represents an exploration of my own confusions about the place and the way in which I grew up...' 

howard was also threatening to watch chinatown (a film about LA and the water). 

joan is a californian. but not a johnny-come-lately californian (an okie or a bakersfield country fan) but a descendent of 'wagons across the mountains' californians. she taught herself to write by typing in hemmingway sentences, and her own sentences have that flinty quality. 

howard has taken to spending a lot of time in cafes writing.(like physically writing). maybe there will be a letter. hmmmn. interesting horsemouth barely does that anymore.  the nearest cafe is about 2 miles away but even so it would take considerable improvement in the weather for horsemouth to go up on the common and write and read. almost everything he 'writes' these days he actually 'types' (as he is doing here).  

horsemouth has been looking at baby I love you so by jacob miller. it seems to be an Aminor and Dsus2 song (with C and Dsus2 bits) (Dsus2 a D with the treble e string left ringing) mostly (there maybe a G in there).  this is the basis for augustus pablo's king tubby meets the rockers uptown. 

horsemouth is plotting his visits back to the seaside towns.  he is planning a gig (perhaps even a duo gig) and beginning to think about repertoire once again. 

horsemouth and a giant talking beetle

'nothing, dull slight headache. chotek park in the afternoon...'  - franz kafka, diaries, 5th may 1915.

o tempera! o mores! it had to happen. ladies and gentlemen I present to you,

'franz kafka exemplary employee'

'so he never turned into a beetle?' asked one of horsemouth's friends.

well, yes, he did.  replied horsemouth, but even then he came into work and attempted to represent his clients in court. hell he came into work early (despite some unfortunate troubles on public transport) and stayed late.

the problem with franz kafka 

there is of course a problem with franz kafka, at least as he is presented by max brod. you can read endless pages of franz whingeing on about not being able to write, but that is the irony, you can read them because max did not burn them as he was asked to do. he did not present you with kafka how kafka wished to be presented. he has allowed kafka's dull prosaic life to invade the scene of his fictions. 

faced with kafka's fictions and what is known of his life the modern world says  but he couldn't really have been like that and re-invents him as a do-gooding lawyer, an advocate of the poor. how long before it gets remade for netflicks? with a female side-kick? and a love triangle? perhaps the negative side of his consciousness could be represented by a giant talking beetle. 

once again with chick corea's return to forever - horsemouth is a big fan, in particular of the first two tracks (the first side we would have said), of flora purim's witchy warblings and screams, the drummer's no slouch - airto moreira and of course there's stanley clarke.

yesterday a beer with his mum. there was due to be zoom beers with howard but howard cancelled and horsemouth did not notice his un-cancellation until it was too late. 

paul auster is dead

yesterday horsemouth and his mum visited TESCOs (the kettle had died and needed replacing). the bbc weather reported rain all day for yesterday and grey for today but seems to have become more optimistic with time and is now showing more sun (as a possibility). we shall see. 

horsemouth made sure to get a two pack of  lavazza and a block of cheddar (and four more butty bachs). 

after that horsemouth went for a wander round on the common and found himself stamping round in a high dudgeon for no real reason - his house in london he finds frustrating, co-op politics he finds frustrating, and off he goes when really he should be paying more attention to careful footing and the beautiful scenery. (no he did not fall over in the mud this time). 

horsemouth is thinking about the possibilities of camping in hereford (at the hereford rowing club) and thus getting out and seeing some weirdshire gigs. also there's a sharron kraus/ alula down gig july 3rd  in nearby ledbury for example (scroll down for the details) and ledbury is even on the train line from london. remind him to pick up his tent and a sleeping bag when he next goes back. some friends are over the weekend of the 18th may and he's back cat-sitting on the borderlands from the 25th.to early june. 

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paul auster has died. 

auster translated one of horsemouth's favourite books, pierre clastres' chronique des indiens guayaki. ce que savent les aché, chasseurs nomades du paraguay into the english text chronicle of the guayaki indians. this  horsemouth found in a second hand bookshop and read.   

the translation itself was found in a second hand bookshop having been  presumed lost. it was rescued from oblivion, the same oblivion reaching out to destroy the guayaki indians. horsemouth was surprised to discover any of the guayaki living such is the dismal picture clastres paints of their future. horsemouth does not know if the band studied by clastres still survives, even if they are almost all the individuals who met clastres will be dead. 

‘although I have been back to paraguay several times, I have never seen the guayaki indians again. I have not had the heart to...’

clastres is himself dead. dead in a car accident. auster wrote; 

 ‘no matter that the world described in it has long since vanished, that the tiny group of people the author lived with in 1963 and 1964 has disappeared from the face of the earth. no matter that the author has vanished as well. the book he wrote is still with us... a small triumph against the crushing odds of fate...’

and now auster is dead. 

(milk reminder)

'completely indifferent and apathetic. a well gone dry...' - franz kafka, diaries, 3rd may 1915.

meanwhile (in 1808) the valiant people of madrid are being massacred by the french army. 

'the first great picture which can be called revolutionary in every sense of the word, in style, in subject, and in intention' - art historian kenneth clark, 

and meanwhile too, today is bandcamp friday, the 40th bandcamp friday (there are a number of special events and listening parties). horsemouth thought he had one of howard's golden glows to play you but he doesn't (it turns out to be 3rd april 2020 not 3rd of may - ah well so it goes).

yesterday horsemouth went for a wander on the common and then he and his mum wandered down to the village hall so that she could empty out the coin meter.  but they had forgotten there were the local council elections going on and it was being used as a polling station (so they returned home empty handed, though on the way back horsemouth did find a muddy 20p piece lying in the road). 

while it rained he reviewed a few books on goodreads;

 - landscape with machines (ltc rolt)

 - diaries 1926-1957 (antonia white, ed. susan chitty)

 - where I was from (joan didion)

 - nostalgia (mircea cărtărescu) 

he constructs his reviews from the isolated comments he has made here and there on this blog and on facebook. he writes not too badly (as you know) and has a good eye for a quote so, by and large, they don't come out too badly.. 

he's reading a lot less than he used to (and spending more time farting about on the internet). the sun is good for reading because then he can sit outside and read (and it is harder to read of a computer screen when the sun is on it and even laptops are intrinsically less portable than paperback books). 

horsemouth chickened out of going bell-ringing last night (he is now cursing himself for a fool) but he will go next week. there are quite a few bell related events in the next few weeks, he will either try and blag a lift or walk over (about an hour and a half) to attend them. or maybe he will bottle out we shall see. 

currently the plan today is to go to TESCOs (the kettle has died and needs replacing for a start). the bbc weather reports rain all day (and grey tomorrow). ah yes he has been reminded, the milk. 

this record (boho dance) (rubbish bin reminder)

 

'this record is a total work conceived graphically, musically, lyrically and accidentally 

– as a whole... 

the whole unfolded like a mystery... 

it is not my intention to unravel that mystery for anyone.' 

- joni mitchell, sleevenotes to the hissing of the summer lawns (1975) 

it is the afternoon of wednesday the 1st of may and the mist has at last cleared and the sun is finally shining. horsemouth has delivered the eggs and taken the rubbish bin down to the bottom of the drive. (he has put up more bamboo canes for the broad beans (whenever they should need them) and moved a bench (at his mother's insistence). 

he sat out and read owen hatherley's account of a visit to hamburg (the white review, no.12.) and a short story by álvaro enrigue about a samurai in mexico at the time of new spain (was this a thing? or is it some kind of steampunk game?). apparently it was a thing.

'his short story ‘a samurai sees the sunrise in acapulco’ (tr. rahul bery)... expands on a period in the 1600s when japanese merchant ships, guarded by samurai warriors, docked in mexico...' 

danse bohémienne is one of debussy's first compositions, written at the age of 18. it's kind of dull and too busy at the same time. it's difficult to tell from bad debussy why he is so good. he has been composer of the week on radio 4 but they have a knack for playing what is bad by him, what is rare (or unfinished) rather than what is good (too many wailing sopranos). there's a tendency to take the orchestral and sung pieces over the piano pieces. 

we have only just reached deux arabesques and prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune (when it begins to get good, you can hear things from the first arabesque being recycled later).  

joni mitchell's boho dance she declares to be named after a 'tom wolfe-ism' lifted from the book 'the painted word' on the art world.   

'...the ritual has two phases: (1) the boho dance, in which the artist shows his stuff within the circles, coteries, movements, isms, of the home neighborhood, bohemia itself, as if he doesn't care about anything else; as if, in fact, he has a knife in his teeth against the fashionable world uptown. (2) the consummation, in which culterati from that very same world, le monde, scout the various new movements and new artists of bohemia, select those who seem the most exciting, original, important, by whatever standards -- and shower them with all the rewards of celebrity.'

perhaps this is what makes horsemouth think of joni as joan didion in song? the dryness, the coldness, the observation. 

today is the second of may - in madrid in 1808 the peninsular war is about to turn. the people rise up against the napoleonic occupiers and the francophile ruling class. it inaugurates bloody years of guerrilla war in spain (as chronicled by goya in his prints los desastres de la guerra). 

today a rainy morning. in a bit horsemouth will go out and check on the state of the bins. 

BELTANE (international workers day)

when it is the morning horsemouth will go around changing the calendars.

his dore abbey calendar will show a cross on the roof. the countryfile calendar (two copies - office and kitchen) will show a somewhat crazed sheep. his brother and his wife's calendar downstairs (dining room) will show his brother, and his wife, and their youngest high above the river in porto. 

horsemouth has been transferring events to his diary. 

wednesday may 1st - egg delivery, take down the rubbish to the bottom of the drive. (egg deliveries wednesdays and sometimes saturdays, rubbish and recycling alternate week by week. tuesday and fridays take milk over to the garage). 

thursday may 2nd - bring the hopefully emptied rubbish bin back up the drive, celebrate the 1808 rioting of the population of madrid against the napoleonic invaders. (fail to vote in london mayoral election - sorry sadiq).

friday may 3rd - continue celebration of the 1808 rioting of the population of madrid against the napoleonic invaders. bandcamp friday, publish a golden glow and a kafka quote from 1915. 

saturday may 4th - mum goes to the garage (pick up the saturday daily torygraph which includes the TV guide). 

sunday may 5th - publish a golden glow and a kafka quote from 1915.  perhaps some more discussion of the mokrani revolt.

tuesday may 6th - publish a golden glow.

wednesday may 8th - 1871 claude debussy's father (manuel debussy) is arrested and flung in jail as a communard. 

thursday may 9th - deathday LTC rolt (whom horsemouth has been reading recently and plans to read more of)

and so on...

round about the 22nd may horsemouth will return to the wen. 

there are a number of gigs (mini pops, triple negative) he wants to see and he has promised to cat-sit a house on the borderlands. 

at some point in june there will be the meeting of the communal endeavour members in the houses with the guys who have been designing the retrofit of the insulation to the properties. further ahead he has noted some free classical gigs at the QEH at the start of july, some free organ recitals at dore abbey every saturday in august, and the hereford river carnival nearly the last saturday in august (24th). first saturday in september hymn of praise by mendelsohn at the abbey (£5). 

yesterday border checks on the vast majority of foods coming from the EU started (a full 8 years after brexit because they've been putting it off). horsemouth expects it to be proper shit with camembert doubling in price and halving in availability etc. 'we might not always have cheese like we used to...' 

this morning another olafur elaison installation - the sun strobe lighting the mist in the valley (but soon the sun is risen and hidden behind clouds and now it is just misty). now it is due to stay grey all day and then rain in the evening.