Violet. 8.5 months.

i bought a house in stewkley
it looked alright to me
a little bit of work
and then happy we would be
but once I started fixing it
then the trouble began
that was twenty years ago
it hasn’t gone to plan
I noticed that the front door
had some flaking paint
so I started stripping it
but by then it was too late
so I started on the windows
fixing up the glass
but shortly after starting
I decided I better pass
onto fixing the drainpipes
and working to the roof
but once I got going I discovered a terrible truth
the chimney stack was wobbling
the tiles they were shot
I’d better get to work quick
and give it all I’d got
so I stripped the roof right off
and replaced all the beams
but when I saw the state of the walls
well I began to scream
I called the builders merchants
and ordered some new bricks
but before they I arrived
I discoverd a terrible tick
the electrics were all done in
it was a terrible shock
and whenever I used a switch
I had to go and see the doc
but that was twenty years ago
I reckon it’s half done
just as soon as I sort the plumbing
we can start the fun
and get started in the garden
which is getting overgrown
there’s a problem with the fence
and a wonky garden gnome
but before i get green fingered
I’ll have to fix the drain
there’s a problem with the flushing
it’s causing me some pain
so if you ever buy a house
out in aylesbury vale
check very carefully
as to why it’s up for sale
there’s always a chance
it will be a dream home
but if it needs a bit of work
you’ll know who not to phone
Achiltibuie, peaceful, wild and beautiful.
Sissinghurst, Vita Sackville-West and Sir Harold Nicolson’s glorious garden and home in the Kent weald. An intoxicating combination of obsession, beauty, privilege and folly.
Cheesden Valley, Easter Saturday
Some things take longer than others - a lullaby (demo)
This is a demo / work in progress of a tune I started writing just before our daughter was born at the end of last year. It’s a bit rough and ready at the moment, but I’m hoping to ‘gloss’ this up shortly into a more polished and complete version.
Dir. Ross Cairns
In ‘Lives of the Artists’, Ross Cairns takes three different, but in his view, related ‘artists’. These are not painters or sculptors, but a British and Irish trio of surfers (Tom Lowe, Fergal Smith and Mickey Smith), a French free-riding snowboarder (Xavier De La Rue) and a hardcore band from Watford (Gallows).
Cairns’ belief is that these disparate creative practitioners, through their commitment, dedication and the passioned execution of their various disciplines are true artists. They are able to communicate in a powerful yet abstract way. This thesis, here beautifully illustrated in high-definition and often in slow-motion, is often found in more cerebral soul sports publications, and when accompanied by such stunning cinematography is persuasive. However, Cairns’ exposition is undermined by his subjects.
To be an artist is to communicate, and all three subjects are communicative, both in their chosen fields and in individual pieces to camera. But to be an artist, as opposed to an aspiring artist, there must be something to communicate, a life lived. Unfortunately, as so often in soul sports and contemporary music, the candidates offered here know too little of life to be genuine artists.
That’s not say that the talents of those on show are not exemplary, and in time they may go on to excel and transcend their individual disciplines, but only Xavier De La Rue is able to suggest something other than committed obsession. In one chilling sequence De La Rue talks of his renewed resolve and love of the mountains after a near fatal avalanche. It’s a moving moment, especially when accompanied by footage of the ‘chute’.
Ultimately the film fails to prove the theory. It is a beautifully illustrated and argued point, but perhaps due to budget or sponsors involvement the triptych is uneven. This is unfortunate as Cairns is able to move effortlessly between the disciplines and carefully constructs his narrative. A flawed, but engaging film.