at the fish-quay

sisters

a beginning

Dear Sheddists,

many of you will have observed over the years the deteriorating quality of my long-running blog, so with self-improvement firmly in mind I have enrolled in not one, but two courses at a renowned Arts Centre.

I started the classes earlier this week - the first in creative writing and the second in photography - and both were excellent.

During my first class the tutor invited us all to spend three minutes 'free writing' in response to the following introduction..,

'The letter I received today was most surprising because ...'

This was my effort.


'The letter I received today was most surprising because she had died some two years ago. The writing was frail and spidery. Not surprising really given the arthritis that had plagued her in later years. And what was that blotch on the corner of the blue Basildon Bond notepaper? Perhaps a tear? Perhaps a spot of grease that dripped inadvertently from her customary breakfast bacon sandwich?  

She so loved to write in the morning.  She always left a notebook and pen on the kitchen table before retiring to bed and on awakening she reached for it as automatically as a young child clutching a toothbrush. 

But why had it arrived now?  Who had sent it and when? He turned the paper over slowly searching for a clue of its origins.  He lifted it to his nose and inhaled the faint musky odor of a long-deceased thought that trailed off with a "love you"...

The second exercise we were invited to undertake was the construction of a letter demonstrating emotion. I chose to write one to an anonymous stranger.

'You've been parking our car outside my drive every morning for the last six weeks.  I'm fed up with it so that's why you found this note on your windscreen.

You probably don't know it but my my daughter, my pathetic epileptic daughter, is strapped into her wheelchair each and every morning to go to to school. It takes me hours to get her ready. Changing her like a baby, wiping her mouth, making sure she doesn't choke on her mashed-up breakfast. And you - you don't give a stuff do you?

Have you ever seen a six year old choking on a mouthful of food? Well, I have. Watched her rock her head from side to side, turning red, turning blue ... but she's powerless to speak. She's never spoken, she's never screamed. She can't, she just can't - but you make me scream! 

Why do you not think of others? Can't you see the sign on the back-window of my van??  The one with a picture of a wheelchair and an ever so polite request to leave room.  Well - have you?!!! I see that sign every single day of the week and it reminds me of her, my helpless, hopeless fitting, choking, messed-up little girl in her wheelchair. 

She'll never drive a car like you, she'll never walk, never crawl ... 

But she smiles. She smiles at me!  The sort of smile that lights up my day - that makes up for every single God damned idiot like you who goes his own way without a single thought for anyone but yourself. It only takes a second you know. It only takes one miserable little second to stop and think.

Yours,

the woman whose effing drive you block each and every morning.'

I'm looking forward to seeing how the course unfolds.  More soon on what went on in my photography class.

Yours as ever,

electrofried(mr)

one step at a time

I love my piano!

At school I played both the recorder and the treble recorder and learned how to read music, but then things went quiet for me on the music front. That all changed some seven or eight years ago when Peter, a gifted musician at our church, put up a notice offering to give piano lessons.

I signed up. Whilst playing didn't come naturally I persevered for twelve months or so until Peter moved out of the area and my lessons came to an end. I even invested a bonus from work to buy an electric piano.

Peter gave me the names of one or two piano teachers who could take over from him, but time moved on and I never followed them up.

Fast forward to two years ago and I was having coffee at a local craft centre with Carol, one of my friends.  A new music shop was about to open on-site and piano lessons were once more on offer. Carol said she would love to learn and I didn't take much convincing.  And so we both signed up for joint lessons with the Partridge Brothers!  After twelve months both Carol and I passed our Grade 1 piano exam. We're now working on our Grade 2 with Sam, our current piano-teacher.

I love learning new things and I practice two or three times a week. It's a challenge, but I find it so refreshing to do something different after a day at work in front of a computer.  The pieces we learn for our piano grades are mostly classical, but from time to time Sam will ask us to choose something we like.  Currently, we're working on a song by Adele.

Sam challenges us to look at a piece of music before we start trying to play it.  What's the timing?  What's the music asking us to do? He encourages us to look at the sharps and the flats, the loud parts and the quiet to get a feel for the music and an understanding of what the composer is trying to convey.

My daughter Sophie does wander into the front room from time to time to listen and on rare occasions I'll play for my family.  However, my most challenging public performance to date has been a duet with Peter, my original piano-teacher, during a church talent show.  At first I was nervous but when I started playing I forgot people were there!

What connections do I see between my spiritual life and learning to play the piano?  It's often a challenge, but it's nice when it's in harmony! I find a peacefulness in music, it can transport me anywhere. When I'm playing a waltz I can picture elegant ladies in beautiful dresses gliding round the dance-floor.

To sum it up, it's not easy work, but you can get there ... one step at a time.

celebration

first day of autumn