What’s the risk we take, we the music makers, compared to the dancer’s shifting, slipping grip; the penalty taker’s injudicious shot that hits the bar; the climber and her crew lost on the implacable rock for a final hand hold?
For us maybe a clinker dropped across a piece of pristine harmony before a crowd we’re trying to impress. And even then at half time it’s a shrug and, “I didn’t even notice, mate, and I don’t reckon they did either”. Or maybe it’s stomach cramping laughter, the three of us hunched over, all in tears at the absurdity: the sacred made profane.
Death or glory under the lights, the sun, the stars, we the mutualists, the diggers and the levellers are bound in a cargo net of love that fills the heart and stops the breath. There’s a joy you simply cannot buy in the moment pledged towards the shared self.
I'm a post-retirement Drama teacher, currently working part-time. I have a grown-up son and daughter, three grandchildren and three young children from my second marriage. I write - principally poetry but prose too, both fitfully published. My poetry collection Ancient Lights is published by Phoenicia Publishing (www.phoeniciapublishing.com) and my translation of Blaise Cendrars' 'Trans-Siberian Prosody and Little Jeanne from France' (illustrated by my friend, the artist, writer and long-time blogger Natalie d'Arbeloff) is published by Old Stile Press (www.oldstilepress.com).
I play bass guitar & bouzouki in the song-based acoustic/electric trio Moorby Jones, playing entirely original material.
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I have a dormant blog with posts going back to 2004 at Dick Jones' Patteran Pages - http://patteran.typepad.com - and I'm a radio ham. My callsign is G0EUV
sisyphus 