One album. Twelve songs.
I have a friend. I’d like to think that we’re good friends. I wouldn’t call him in the middle of the night as I’d hate to disturb his wife, but I’d certainly call on him at any time during sociable hours and be sure that he’d help if he could.
A number of years ago, over breakfast in a hotel in Athlone (we’re also colleagues btw), we signed a contract that would get me writing. At least, that’s what the intention was. I did well for a while, setting 10 essays on paper, all of which are languishing in a folder somewhere, waiting until I have time to do more with them.
Years have passed. Years. Not months or weeks. Years. And there they lay.
Since then, he’s gone on to write and publish lots of books. Ten in all. The first was set in Hungary – To a Bird, Another Bird – and the most recent – Autumn, and the Wild World Web – he co-wrote with his granddaughter, Rosa. One to be read. One to be gifted. One to be treasured.
And if that wasn’t enough, he’s just released a 12-track spoken word digital rock album. Ye gads! Where does he get the time?
A participant in one of our workshops recently was touting the €10 per month that Spotify charges to listen to unlimited music as a bargain. I’d see it as a waste of money. I rarely listen to music.
I like to work in silence. I like to sit in silence. I like to drive in silence.
Quiet works for me.
I’m at home at the minute, in Ireland. My dad is tipping 100 and deaf. He hates wearing his hearing aids so our house is anything but quiet. When he’s watching it, the TV blares. I had my headphones on scrolling through FB when I saw my mate’s post about his new album. For once, music seemed the quieter alternative.
The song that resonated most was No 4 – Run not Walk.
Run it to the bleeding edge, run it to the max
Run it to the borders, run across the tracks
Don’t stop to take water
Don’t stop to take breath
Run for your life and outrun your death
With so many running across the borders from Ukraine, trying to outrun their deaths, that struck a chord.
So, ten books and twelves songs and God only knows what else he’s been up to and I’ve done what exactly with the same amount of time?
That’s a rabbit hole I’m refusing to go down. Let’s leave it there.
Grateful today for the exposure to music I wouldn’t ordinarily listen to and for words that resonate.
And very grateful from over here… Wow.
I’m pleased that your Dad is running it to the max.