Owls
Some things that I forgot to mention:
-My parents were here last weekend. It was just a short visit and I'm not sure that we really did anything worthy of comment but we did have a lovely time and I felt a bit sad when it was time for them to go, I may even have become a little bit teary eyed.
- I managed to get Joanna Newsom tickets. I didn't even think she'd come to Sweden - most people, after all, don't bother. I was about to write that it almost made up for not managing to get Arcade Fire tickets, but really it's better than getting Arcade Fire tickets. I would never have been able to afford both and I'd rather see Newsom especially if she's anywhere near as good as the London papers claimed she was when playing there.
-It's half term so I've got the week off. I can wander around in my pyjamas and play Calexico loudly. I had planned greater things for my holiday or at least more useful things but I suspect that apart from the days that Polly is off, my holiday will be consumed by pyjamas, calexico and Thomas Pynchon - the holy trinity of time wasting.
-4 weeks since abstaining from nicotine and I'm still not paranoid, depressed or violently irritable. Which is probably a testament to my unbendable will. Or my lack of money. or my absent mindedness.
Then there was the weekend. Of which I painted a rather bleak picture. But it was great.
I borrowed money and got hold of Miranda and we went out together. She took me to Ugglan a place of which she's talked much. I've always thought it sounded a bit naff.
However I've decided from now on I'm not gonna go out anywhere that isn't Ugglan. I've not been somewhere I like so much in Stockholm since (for completely different reasons) Metropolis. And it IS kinda naff, they play Boule and table tennis, people sit all over the place and generaly it feels like a youth club for grown ups, which incidentally is the description I was given that kept me away.
But it's full of all those people I was sure must be hanging around Stockholm but then wasn't sure where to find them. It was friendly, interesting - the music was good and unusual and the venue was somewherere between being a cosy art student place and an industrial garage.
Admittedly it was helped by the fact that on first arriving I saw that there was a shy red bearded man playing lovely shy music on a dilapidated piano to a bunch of wine drunk 20 something art students. One of my circles of heaven looks a bit like that.
The other band that evening - Wild Birds and Peace Drums-
Had a rather unfortunate name and when they came onto the stage it was evident that they were both playing drums and I must admit that I was wary, it was just the sort of place to have "interesting" bands but within the first minute the whole place was silent.
During flamenco concerts, supposedly afficinados are to react to the music reaching a certain level of duende with a spontaneous "ole" a heart felt reaction to the music's beauty and sadness. I've only ever been to flamenco concerts in Sweden and the "ole"s given up there tend to be by middle class people of a certain age who just know it's the done thing and as a result, invariably chime in at the wrong moment and sound like they're releassing wind.
My point is though, that this concert did the whole audience response/duende business for real. There were gasps of pleasure, applause and sighs. Sounds stupid? I know, but perhaps it was the result of an entire room having their collective expectations exploded or perhaps it was just simply that they were a very good live band. It was a wonderful concert anyway, a mixture of bluegrass, blues and fragile Swedish singer songer writer melancholy. I had very little money but gave up the rest of the evenings wine so I could buy a CD - which I guess says it all.
Ah well that's enough for today. I could tell you a story about Saturday night which involves babies, projectile vomit, an Indian restaurant with appalling service and a lonely Spanish couple but it's not really that interesting - if you arrange the above details in any order you like you'll get as near the truth as neccesary.
I could also moan about lack of money but I'm too cheerful to go into it. As a matter of record I've divided the past hour or so between typing and dancing, just so you know.
Current Reading: Against the Day - Thomas Pynchon. And it's so very very long that it's bound to be in residence here a while yet.
-My parents were here last weekend. It was just a short visit and I'm not sure that we really did anything worthy of comment but we did have a lovely time and I felt a bit sad when it was time for them to go, I may even have become a little bit teary eyed.
- I managed to get Joanna Newsom tickets. I didn't even think she'd come to Sweden - most people, after all, don't bother. I was about to write that it almost made up for not managing to get Arcade Fire tickets, but really it's better than getting Arcade Fire tickets. I would never have been able to afford both and I'd rather see Newsom especially if she's anywhere near as good as the London papers claimed she was when playing there.
-It's half term so I've got the week off. I can wander around in my pyjamas and play Calexico loudly. I had planned greater things for my holiday or at least more useful things but I suspect that apart from the days that Polly is off, my holiday will be consumed by pyjamas, calexico and Thomas Pynchon - the holy trinity of time wasting.
-4 weeks since abstaining from nicotine and I'm still not paranoid, depressed or violently irritable. Which is probably a testament to my unbendable will. Or my lack of money. or my absent mindedness.
Then there was the weekend. Of which I painted a rather bleak picture. But it was great.
I borrowed money and got hold of Miranda and we went out together. She took me to Ugglan a place of which she's talked much. I've always thought it sounded a bit naff.
However I've decided from now on I'm not gonna go out anywhere that isn't Ugglan. I've not been somewhere I like so much in Stockholm since (for completely different reasons) Metropolis. And it IS kinda naff, they play Boule and table tennis, people sit all over the place and generaly it feels like a youth club for grown ups, which incidentally is the description I was given that kept me away.
But it's full of all those people I was sure must be hanging around Stockholm but then wasn't sure where to find them. It was friendly, interesting - the music was good and unusual and the venue was somewherere between being a cosy art student place and an industrial garage.
Admittedly it was helped by the fact that on first arriving I saw that there was a shy red bearded man playing lovely shy music on a dilapidated piano to a bunch of wine drunk 20 something art students. One of my circles of heaven looks a bit like that.
The other band that evening - Wild Birds and Peace Drums-
Had a rather unfortunate name and when they came onto the stage it was evident that they were both playing drums and I must admit that I was wary, it was just the sort of place to have "interesting" bands but within the first minute the whole place was silent.
During flamenco concerts, supposedly afficinados are to react to the music reaching a certain level of duende with a spontaneous "ole" a heart felt reaction to the music's beauty and sadness. I've only ever been to flamenco concerts in Sweden and the "ole"s given up there tend to be by middle class people of a certain age who just know it's the done thing and as a result, invariably chime in at the wrong moment and sound like they're releassing wind.
My point is though, that this concert did the whole audience response/duende business for real. There were gasps of pleasure, applause and sighs. Sounds stupid? I know, but perhaps it was the result of an entire room having their collective expectations exploded or perhaps it was just simply that they were a very good live band. It was a wonderful concert anyway, a mixture of bluegrass, blues and fragile Swedish singer songer writer melancholy. I had very little money but gave up the rest of the evenings wine so I could buy a CD - which I guess says it all.
Ah well that's enough for today. I could tell you a story about Saturday night which involves babies, projectile vomit, an Indian restaurant with appalling service and a lonely Spanish couple but it's not really that interesting - if you arrange the above details in any order you like you'll get as near the truth as neccesary.
I could also moan about lack of money but I'm too cheerful to go into it. As a matter of record I've divided the past hour or so between typing and dancing, just so you know.
Current Reading: Against the Day - Thomas Pynchon. And it's so very very long that it's bound to be in residence here a while yet.