Tuesday, September 29, 2020

QUOTATION MARKS 49 - Koshin Paley Ellison

 " What has worked for me is full commitment.
 Just get to the end of the 'hokey pokey'
and put your whole self in... the elbow... the leg....

It doesn't mean we ever arrive perfect,
there is no arrival...
not even interested in perfection,
and yet completely practicing in a perfectly imperfect way.

Imagine you're so sure that you think you're doing the right thing,
for the right purpose and just freely giving.
For me that's a beautiful example of this commitment to practice. 

Its not about the form, but about how you are.
How you practice, and for what."


KOSHIN PALEY ELLISON
Taken from his talk Open Your Treasure House

Monday, September 28, 2020

LISTENING TO - Handsfree

Handsfree is a composition for orchestra written by Anna Meredith, that utilizes the seemingly endless possibilities of the human body to make sounds and rhythms. She freely admits her starting point was Steve Reich's - Clapping Music but it soon veers off  taking us on a fascinating journey pulling in all sorts of references from beat-box, gospel to tribal dance. Its engaging and thrilling simultaneously. In this video from the Proms 2012, Handsfree is performed by the National Youth Orchestra for whom it was originally commissioned.

LISTENING TO - Anna Meredith

If the Mercury Prize has any use, its to points you towards interesting new performers such as Anna Meredith. A Scottish born classically trained composer, she writes very adventurous classical compositions for the concert hall utilising the possibilities of modern technology.  But she also has her own band that tours and has released two albums - Varmints and Fibs. Both employ an unique mix of musical styles and filters on instruments that produce off kilter sounds. There are classical tropes, a bit of minimalism, but also folk stylings, heavy metal guitar, electronic dance and brass bands.  Here is one of my favourite tunes - The Vapours

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

SHERINGHAM DIARY 42 - Is It Bread With Jam or Jam With Bread?








My Mother often remarked that I was a 'jam with bread' rather than 'bread with jam' person. Never let it be said that I hold back on the jam. I spread hefty amounts of jam, marmalade or ketchup on top of things, whether they be bread or chips, I drench them in it. The sweet jam on the surface infinitely more important than the hefty bread beneath. Its as if bread alone is just not going to be enough to satisfy me. I think this reflects something about my psychology too. Though the bread of my life can be perfectly fine, if there isn't enough jam, this can become a huge existential catastrophe.

After deliberating last month I've decided to take an break from attending the Zen Priory. If their approach is what I need or want I'm no longer sure. Like most folk I can tell you with greater precision what I don't want or need, but finding clarity about what I do need or want can turn into a bit of a sloppy pudding if left to swirl about for too long. A wide open horizon might suggest infinite possibilities, but it might as well be empty space as far as knowing what it is I want. The larger the range of options the more clueless I become. All I can say is there may not be enough jam, so where do I find the jam?

At present I'm seeing this as a period in which to perhaps broaden my horizons, explore other approaches in the Zen tradition, but maybe it could even go beyond that. All of this requires time, receptivity and mental space, all of which are in very short supply at present. I worry it may mean I end up just faffing about for some while to no great effect. Because I need to recognise that me making my own mind up what to do next can take an age. I'm currently in a place of emotional confusion where uncertainty reigns supreme, as though I've accidentally stepped off into a void and I'm trying to get my bearings. Oh, is this some jam!

What the Priory did provide was a structure to practice within. Without it I do feel more at the mercy of whim, circumstance and context. This isn't helped when the shop is open seven days a week and there is irregularity in my weekly work routine. The longer this pattern goes on, quite what day of the week it is shifts out of alignment with reality. In the absence of a stronger internal guiding light I tend to be a creature motivated by outward necessity and the arising of external demands. Here there is no jam, over there there might be jam, somewhere beyond the horizon there will be jam. 

The shop is actually doing quite well. So much so our craft making is having to do a lot of running in order to keep up, and most of the time not quite doing so. July and August were both substantially up on last year, and September is looking promising, The sales pattern has, however, become very changeable. Trying to get a mental handle on what prompts these shifts has proved far too perplexing. I'm finding it best to just turn up, trust and remain productive.










The recent surge in Covid cases, and now the tightening of restrictions, is cranking up the general atmosphere of uncertainty and fear, which can be bad news for high street retail. Few want a return to full lockdown but we find ourselves none-the-less teetering on the edge of one. Whilst the general willingness to keep up the protective and preventive measures has lost its vigilance through sheer fatigue and. let us be honest, loss of confidence in our government. 

This remains a place of practice that is unique and is distinctly uncomfortable to live within. It's all too easy to find false shelter in heightened apathy, small minded selfishness, petty rebellions, horrified anxiety or blind panic. Life has always been uncertain, but we've all put a lot of effort into a lifestyle that operates on the pretence that this isn't so. When we say we want it to get back to normal, what exactly do we think that was and what is it now?

My diet continues to proceed well. I passed a significant milestone recently of getting under 200lbs, so only another 17 lbs to go. As the weeks go on I am finding it harder to maintain, relaxing my effort a little too frequently. As the days grow shorter and the signs of autumn more pronounced one reaches for the creature comfort of food as if getting ready to hibernate. But I am on my seventh month of dieting, so it is helpful to be able to cut myself a little slack too. Though I'm not yet there I will have to address what the post-diet regimen will look like. When the focus shifts from weight-loss to stabilising at the weight achieved. 
















My weight loss has prompted a review and renewal of my wardrobe. Buying clothes that are now Large rather than Extra Large. I'm trying to consider more carefully the number and colour of things I buy and what a coherent basic clothes wardrobe would consist of. I've bought Summer clothes but as Winter nears what next? Most of my trousers, for instance, now only stay up due to the braces I wear with them. Jnanasalin has offered to take the waistlines in for me, but it may also require some starting from scratch. Another benefit is that beloved shirts and jackets once in danger of being donated to charity as too small for me, are now being given a fresh opportunity to shine forth upon the new me.

















The regularity of my book reading is erratic and at times none-existent. I appear to just not be in the mood a lot of the time. But when I have been, I've enjoyed reading James Baldwin. He was one of the most cogent voices of the American civil rights movement in the 50's & 60's. He has a punchy eloquence which is oratorical and when you see recordings of him speaking in public, he is a mesmerising figure to watch as his mind turns on the head of an idea. 













I first appreciated him through the documentary I Am Not Your Negro, which covers his experience of the civil rights movement and relationships with its significant figures. He wrote an outline and transcript before he died in 1987 which the filmmakers have further adapted and developed to award winning effect. It'll be available on some streaming platform, so seek it out. On the back of this I've read The Fire Next Time and am currently part way through Notes of a Native Son, which are both compendiums of letters, articles and essays. He is challenging and thought provoking, particularly about the co-produced nature of racial distinctions and the views and perceptions these trap us all within. 








Due to the inevitable shortage of new material as a result of the lockdown and Covid, the BBC, like many companies has been buying in drama series to fill out its schedules. So we have to thank the pandemic that we are now able to watch all four glorious series of the sci-fi soap opera that is Battlestar Galactica.I'd forgotten just how good it is. So that and 'Strictly' means our evening Winter viewing is now fully booked. Frack, its so awesome!

Whenever I need cheering up its Schitt's Creek every time. Each episode is just pure joy.  Here are clips of Moira and her Bebe.


WATCHING- Schitt's Creek

 Whenever I'm feeling a bit low and in need of a little bit of cheering up I switch on the Tee Vee, click on da Netaflixur, and watch another episode of Schitt's Creek, with Jonny, Moira, David and Alexis. Here's a classic bit of dialogue featuring David and his then 'Best Friend with Benefits' Stevie discussing wine preferences.

POEM - To Surrender To The Other


Flint-hearted, am I
the one pure pebble
cast amongst a whole terrace
of football hooligans 
stratified banks of them
all similarly rounded, the
roughly the same, some laid intact
others cracked, holed, bruised
shattered in half. yet all
differently coloured
pattern mottled
placed in ever shifting hierarchies
where size matters, each prepared
to surrender to the other,
to rub up along with and against
each stone cold cheek
in tidal increments, a movement
inward, along the beaches
tossing and turning like opals learning
how to erode and be smoothed
by the hug of the moon
through our collisions and encounters
with the other, though
causally gathered together
we remain totally alone
on the long long journey
towards the becoming of sand
locked in a ruttling percussive rumba
within the sea of maracas.


written September 2020
Stephen Lumb

  

Sunday, September 13, 2020

LISTENING TO - Wonderful Electric

I recently discovered this BBC live version from Glastonbury 2014 of Goldfrapp's Strict Machine which has a magnificence that is simultaneously triumphant and mystical. Starting, as many Goldfrapp's  tunes from a certain era do, with a direct steal of its central riff, in this case from Chicory Tip's - Son of my Father.  It transcends these cheap mock glam origins to be taken somewhere with much greater grandeur.  I imagine this was, and still is, a bit of a showstopper. Wonderful electric indeed.