Seisiunna
Well, I said I'd write about the seisiunna, only I'm not going to do it twice.
Cross-posted from myspace:
I've got plague. There are Qs scrawlled across my door, my car, and my desk chair in bright yellow paint - lest anybody overlook them and sadly fall prey to the vicious bit of viral nastiness that is making my life unpleasant.
In all honesty, I should have phoned Ken and begged him to replace me for Sunday's Trinity Hall seisiun, but as I'd been phoned by him to replace somebody else, I felt that was in bad form.
To those people who were watching and (I hope, at least) my bandmates for the day, I managed well enough. To my own self? I fell on my face and couldn't find my feet again. It happens, and it doesn't mean that I'm a rotten player. My bodhrán was in a bit of a touchy mood as well, and she bit me. I've now got a plaster across the back of my left hand to show for it.
My band, Spriggan, will play tomorrow night at the Tipperary, and myself again at Trinity Hall the following day. I am in a state of denial, yes. We'll see what sort of voice I've got at practise tonight, and here's to hoping that I'll honestly have turned a corner by tomorrow.
At any rate, there was an artist at the Sunday seisiun. He sketched the lot of us and we've since scanned that sketch and it's appearing on the TIMES web site (I believe). I've got a copy of it myself that I'll post here (someday - likely when it's no longer relevant. Time moves at a different pace for me).
Tuesday night at Gilligans was more for the craic and less for the ceol. I did play in for a set - but I'd promised before I'd taken the decision to go (after having changed my mind at least four times - sure, you needed to know that) that I'd not be late in leaving. Mostly I chatted with a mate about a story he's written. Poor fellow, I couldn't stop myself looking over at my seisiun mates. He at least seems to understand that my inattention is caused by a force greater than either of us.
We've got a new fellow who's been coming round of late. 'New' meaning 'new to the seisiun' - he's hardly new to the scene itself, in fact he's quite established in it, and that's why I'll not mention his name. :) Sorry, duckies, but I don't do that. I met him properly at O'Flaherty last year, and I came away from that meeting thinking that he'd be a good choice for a mentor. So, I'm glad to see he's coming round.
Cross-posted from myspace:
I've got plague. There are Qs scrawlled across my door, my car, and my desk chair in bright yellow paint - lest anybody overlook them and sadly fall prey to the vicious bit of viral nastiness that is making my life unpleasant.
In all honesty, I should have phoned Ken and begged him to replace me for Sunday's Trinity Hall seisiun, but as I'd been phoned by him to replace somebody else, I felt that was in bad form.
To those people who were watching and (I hope, at least) my bandmates for the day, I managed well enough. To my own self? I fell on my face and couldn't find my feet again. It happens, and it doesn't mean that I'm a rotten player. My bodhrán was in a bit of a touchy mood as well, and she bit me. I've now got a plaster across the back of my left hand to show for it.
My band, Spriggan, will play tomorrow night at the Tipperary, and myself again at Trinity Hall the following day. I am in a state of denial, yes. We'll see what sort of voice I've got at practise tonight, and here's to hoping that I'll honestly have turned a corner by tomorrow.
At any rate, there was an artist at the Sunday seisiun. He sketched the lot of us and we've since scanned that sketch and it's appearing on the TIMES web site (I believe). I've got a copy of it myself that I'll post here (someday - likely when it's no longer relevant. Time moves at a different pace for me).
Tuesday night at Gilligans was more for the craic and less for the ceol. I did play in for a set - but I'd promised before I'd taken the decision to go (after having changed my mind at least four times - sure, you needed to know that) that I'd not be late in leaving. Mostly I chatted with a mate about a story he's written. Poor fellow, I couldn't stop myself looking over at my seisiun mates. He at least seems to understand that my inattention is caused by a force greater than either of us.
We've got a new fellow who's been coming round of late. 'New' meaning 'new to the seisiun' - he's hardly new to the scene itself, in fact he's quite established in it, and that's why I'll not mention his name. :) Sorry, duckies, but I don't do that. I met him properly at O'Flaherty last year, and I came away from that meeting thinking that he'd be a good choice for a mentor. So, I'm glad to see he's coming round.