STILL LIGHTENS MY HEART.
Yep, a month into the new year
and time again to battle my annual inclination to cancel everything and hybernate for whatever remains of winter. Harry Nilsson (above) has been a godsend for years: A little touch of SCHMILSSON in the night on the music centre transforms my SAD into relatively optimistic for as long as it lasts, i.e. long enough to get me back to the keyboard with a faint smile on my face.
After that it's all a bit of a lottery. Finding music that is easy to listen to whilst retaining the incentive to scribble is not as simple as it may seem: few albums are good right through and those that are can be more of a distraction than an inspiration. I would perhaps eschew background music altogether - I do on the rare occasions I drive the car - but there's not just myself to consider: in our current ground floor living situation there's also my Leader
AND A CERTAIN CAT.
The cat Shadow can doze peacefully to Doris Day, Nilsson, Robeson, Tauber, The Hollies, most piano concertos and anything tuneful on the violin: I think the latter has some archaic connection to catgut.
He is not keen on anything too loud, clearly favours the romantic school, and is out of the cat flap like a bullet the moment Sir Simon or whoever opines that modern classical music is anything other than a cacophony. (I have taught him rather well. It's not.)
Right now he is asleep on a chair in front of a radiator and in sight of Mo's sewing machine in the study next door. She is working there.
The chosen music is gentle.
He is blissfully happy.
That's good. It spreads.
TELEVISION.
We have been watching the French series Spiral on BBC Four, the English series Kiri (with Sarah Lancashire - pictured) on Channel 4, and have finally watched the Bond film Spectre, originally shown on ITV1 on New Year's Day.
The French series contains more sexual content than the Bond film and the English series is more disturbing than either of them.
None of it has shocked or affected me as much as have the latest episodes of Silent Witness.
I can laugh at Still Open All Hours and Death in Paradise (picture below), too, and be close to tears over Call the Midwife.
I know, 'get' and 'a life' spring to mind.
All for now.
Next month: Text it, Brexit or Trump it?
Cheers.
.
and time again to battle my annual inclination to cancel everything and hybernate for whatever remains of winter. Harry Nilsson (above) has been a godsend for years: A little touch of SCHMILSSON in the night on the music centre transforms my SAD into relatively optimistic for as long as it lasts, i.e. long enough to get me back to the keyboard with a faint smile on my face.
After that it's all a bit of a lottery. Finding music that is easy to listen to whilst retaining the incentive to scribble is not as simple as it may seem: few albums are good right through and those that are can be more of a distraction than an inspiration. I would perhaps eschew background music altogether - I do on the rare occasions I drive the car - but there's not just myself to consider: in our current ground floor living situation there's also my Leader
AND A CERTAIN CAT.
He is not keen on anything too loud, clearly favours the romantic school, and is out of the cat flap like a bullet the moment Sir Simon or whoever opines that modern classical music is anything other than a cacophony. (I have taught him rather well. It's not.)
Right now he is asleep on a chair in front of a radiator and in sight of Mo's sewing machine in the study next door. She is working there.
The chosen music is gentle.
He is blissfully happy.
That's good. It spreads.
TELEVISION.
The French series contains more sexual content than the Bond film and the English series is more disturbing than either of them.
None of it has shocked or affected me as much as have the latest episodes of Silent Witness.
I can laugh at Still Open All Hours and Death in Paradise (picture below), too, and be close to tears over Call the Midwife.
I know, 'get' and 'a life' spring to mind.
All for now.
Cheers.
.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment