|Image: The Hay Wain, John Constable (1821)|
Lately I’ve been re-ordering albums I used to listen to when I was younger but only ever had on cassette tape. Vinyl is covered since I got my USB Turntable, which I use to convert singles and LPs into MP3 so I can listen on the iPod, but cassette tape is a different ball game.
One of these albums arrived in the post yesterday, an iconic album from 1989 that changed the face of pop music and influenced thousands of songwriters. It’s as entertaining as it is melodic, and holds many, many memories for me. It is, of course, Three Feet High and Rising by De La Soul.
I’ve had it on repeat practically the whole time I’ve not been at the day job. As well as being terrific journey down memory lane, I’d forgotten just how good some of the tracks are. Not only that, but the digital age has meant there’s more to the album than I ever noticed before. It always happens; turn the volume up with a good pair of headphones on and suddenly the tiny intricacies of the recording become noticeable. It’s like taking a magnifying glass to a Constable.
I had some great ideas for poems yesterday. Spending so much time in their company seems to have triggered a wave of natural connection with my poetry side. I keep getting these wee ideas or great lines to use while I’m doing other things. I’m still behind on my overall GDR goal for the year, so this is helping to make up for it as well as boosting my options for forthcoming chapbooks.
I spent quite a while on family duty last night so the only other thing I got done was the polishing of some of the poems in the SILLY POEMS FOR WEE PEOPLE VOL.2 manuscript. The best of the poems from VOL.1 are in there—some of which have been re-written or polished—and the rest of the book will be brand new kids’ poems. I’m even toying with the idea of writing a wee short story to add in at the last minute but I’ve not fully decided if I’ll do that yet.
Beans on wholemeal toast for dinner last night, to which I woke up to a thunderous reception when I rose out of bed this morning. Not sure that Gail was too impressed but that’s married life for you. Gail calls it a disgusting male habit; I call it an idiosyncrasy.
The day job is going well just now. I’m down to 10 hours per day so that’s not bad.
Till tomorrow—peace out!