And Then The Email Arrived ...

I know some really special people and, occassionally, we find ourselves in the same country at the same time.

Giovanni is originally from Milan but has spent many years living in New Zealand.  We've never quite managed to be in Italy at the same time however I did visit him and his family when I was home 2 years ago.

Today he caught a train to Genova and I got spend a few hours in the company of this lovely man.  We wandered the city, talking as we wandered.   And tonight we met up again and went out for aperitivo with friends here.

I was saying goodbye (for now) to Donatella and Luciano (aka Susto E Soranzio), to Barbara, as well as a hello and goodbye to two people I hadn't met before but whose company I enjoyed.

The thing that most amused me was that I thought I was leaving on Tuesday.  But no.  An email arrived, that online check-in email that arrives 24 hours before departure.  It would seem that I am leaving tomorrow ...

Probably best I found that out today.

Oh the laughter.  And then the mad attempt to buy a train ticket because, you know, the trains will be quite full as everyone heads home after a long weekend.  And in the rush, somehow, the ticket machines wouldn't take my money. 

But I was in good company.  Barbara and Giovanni made it happen ... well actually, we gave up and I bought one from the woman at the ticket counter. 

So I've packed, more or less.  And I have breakfast plans down in the old city for tomorrow.  And I have to drop off my 'Monday food supplies' because, you know, I won't be here in the  city.

Yep, it's all just one big adventure, isn't it.

Genova, of course ... and my playlist.

Hmmm, which order shall I post them in ... the photograph or my favourite music playlist?

The playlist:

Alexi Murdoch - Breathe (it reminds me I must)

Fabrizio De Andre - Creuza di Ma (because it takes me back to Genova, everysingle time)

Amos Lee - Arms of a Woman (love the sound)

Ben Howard - Old Pine (just love, so much)

Brian Eno - By this River (from a movie, it haunted me)

Counting Crows - Sullivan Street (there has to be at least one, of these guys or REM)

David Gray - The One I Love (somehow this one slipped in.  It wakes me up if I'm concentrating too deeply.

LP - Into the Wild (just simply love and adore)

Marc Cohen - Ellis Island (an old favourite)

Missy Higgins - Everyone's Waiting (love and adore)

Passenger - Let Her Go (new big love)

Sarah McLachlan - Angel (old love, and it reminds me of Pippa singing it beautifully)

Van Morrison - Into the Mystic  (hunted this song down and fell for Van Morrison as a result. Loved 'The Newsroom' too)

Yo La Tengo - Green Arrow (brilliant beautiful exquisite)

Zucchero - Dune Mosse (i enjoy Zucchero)

Paul Kelly - Midnight Rain (possibly my most favourite song ever but on his cd, it opens with heavy rain.  I love songs that include heavy rain, like we used to have back in Fiordland, NZ)

So this is it for now.  There are more I need to add but it meets my needs for now.

And the photograph ... Genova, of course.

Whispers From My World ...

Claire mailed me a link to a beautiful video clip from home, see below ...writing, 'hope you don't get too homesick!'  I did but I loved it so much that a little bit of homesick really doesn't matter.

Meanwhile I've had the pleasure of spending the last couple of days in the company of Lynette - one of the loveliest kiwi soul's I know.  We were up at 6.30am two mornings in a row, taking Miss 9 to school because Jess was fighting with the nastiest kind dental abscess pain and Lynette thought it would be fun to come wandering.  Remember we're mid-winter here in Belgium. 

Jessie's antibiotics have kicked in now and it's Saturday today.  A 9am wake-up was so welcome this morning.

And I'm rapt with the small pile of new shells here on my desk, fresh from one of the exquisite beaches in Nelson, NZ, sand still clinging to some.  I'm a shell and stone-gatherer.  My desk bears witness to this.  Included in her bag of New Zealand goodness Lynette also bought Miss 9 a Magpie soft toy, complete with the really special call of the New Zealand magpie.

It has a lovely few days of 'home' ... and I'm still listening to Fran Kora.  A most excellent way to begin a day.

The Waters of Greenstone from Nathan Kaso on Vimeo.

 

Little Bushman, Peaceful Man - with the NZ Symphony Orchestra.

"Though some, in darkness of heart, seeing their land ravished, might wish to take arms and kill the aggressors, I say it must not be. Let not the Pakehas think to succeed by reason of their guns ... I want not war, but they do. The flashes of their guns have singed our eyelashes, and yet they say they do not want war ... The government come not hither to reason, but go to out-of-the-way places. They work secretly, but I speak in public so that all may hear, " Te Whiti-o-Rongomai III told his people in March 1880.

You can read more of the man who was rumoured to have influenced Ghandi in his peaceful resistance.  Tim Finn and the Herbs sang about Te Whiti too.

Regarding the music clip at the end of this post,  Mark Bell asks the question of Little Bushman, regarding the 2009 collaboration between Little Bushman, composer/arranger Psathas and the NZ Symphony Orchestra – did he actually manage to enjoy the experience given the enormity and pressure of such an undertaking?

His reply, over on Mark's interview, made me laugh.

I am loving all this digging around and finding New Zealand music and movies I've missed.

Eddie Vedder, Musician

I think music is the greatest art form that exists, and I think people listen to music for different reasons, and it serves different purposes. The best songs are the ones that make you feel something.
Eddie Vedder

I needed to add this song to my blog, for future reference ... to play easily.  I'm liking this man's voice.  Intensely.

Love this.  A song by Eddie Vedder, Guaranteed.

Ordinary Love, U2

No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.

Nelson Mandela, from Long Walk to Freedom

'Ordinary Love' is a song by U2 written for the film Mandela: Long Walk To Freedom.

It's the first new U2 song since 2010. The lyric video was directed by Irish illustrator Oliver Jeffers and American artist Mac Premo. The video was primarily filmed at The Invisible Dog Art Centre (theinvisibledog.org).

The video features images of various mundane items: brick walls, fences, a blackboard, a globe, a painting. The lyrics are presented first in script scribbled by a moving ink pen over paper, and later over the many earlier images shown in the clip.

Ordinary Love from Joe Ahorro on Vimeo.

 

Things I'm Learning About Writing A Book

I'm learning ...

I don't write a book in the same way I might train my body at the gym.  It's not about pushing the limits and building up strength.  It's not about endurance. 

And it's not about 9 to 5.  It's about 'anytime'.  My most exciting idea, so far, came while I was walking back through city streets in the early morning, a 5 celsius day.  I was thinking bad thoughts about Antwerp's polluted air.

I smsed my idea to myself.  I had a book for the tram and I know how time stretches and warps on these journeys of mine.  I need to make notes.  Always.  Because I forget stuff.  Even brilliant stuff.

Always make notes.

I have a song, sometimes more than one but usually just one, that I put on repeat ... endlessly on repeat.  It helps somehow.  It disappears into the background but creates a state of mind.  I recently heard Man Booker prize winner, Eleanor Catton, admit to doing it and I thought, 'So it's normal'!'  Many have tried to convince me that it's so far from normal and I should stop immediately.

So, currently, whenever I hear Ben Howard's 'Old Pine' then I know it's time to work.  Maybe I should put a dedication to him in the front of this book.  I've played his song hundreds, if not thousands, of times already. 

Obviously this can only be done when I'm working alone here ...

I am learning to steal the Belgian's bloke's desk-chair the moment he leaves for work, as my chair is an ergonomic disaster, even though we were careful in choosing it and paid more than we wanted to.  He just sighs, rolls my chair away from his desk, and waits while I return his in the evenings.  Thank goodness he works away from home all day ...

Most importantly perhaps, I'm learning not to panic when I can't think of what to write, how to dive in and begin when I have 'just 3 hours to produce something new!!!!'  It will come.  It does.

Oh and if I have the 130 photographs I have chosen (so far) for the book colour-photocopied to A4-size to work on, in batches of 20, then it seems less wicked.  Or is that like the kid playing hide-n-seek, standing in the middle of the room with her hands over her eyes, pretending that she can't be seen.  Hmmmm.

And finally, I'm learning that committing to writing a blog post everyday in November has been more helpful than I could have imagined.

Now,  I'll leave you with Ben. 

Oh ... I've posted this song before?  At least you don't share an office with me  :-)

Soul Stuff ...

 

The practice of any art isn’t to make a living, it’s to make your soul grow.

Kurt Vonnegut.

Kurt's quotes seemed like an answer to my angst about money and art. 

Meanwhile, this singer is making me smile. Most particularly, her song, 'You and I'. 

I love the lines: let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France
Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters and teach them how to dance.

I was out early this morning, 5 celsius, a clear-sky day but the air hurts the lungs we decided.  Cold or pollution, or both, we couldn't decide.

I'm using Frances Mayes book, Under the Tuscan Sun, to pull me through the quieter moments.  The tram was packed coming home but I was off in my mind and wandering with her in Sovana, where she wrote of being in ancient places, We can walk here, the latest little dots on the time line.  Knowing that, it always amazes me that I am intensely interested in how the map is folded, where the gas gauge is pointed, whether we have withdrawn enough cash, how everything matters intensely even as it is disappearing.

 

Excellent Stuff Found Lately ...

I love the work of war photographer, Robert Capa.  I have his book, Slightly Out of Focus, and two fictions based around the facts of his life, Waiting for Capa, and Seducing Ingrid Bergman.

Last night I discovered a 1hour and 23 minute documentary about Capa, on Youtube, titled Robert Capa: In Love and War.  Brilliant!  I was searching for information on another war photographer at the time. 

Note to self, never watch two documentaries about war photographers back-to-back.

Erkan Saka's Daily News is one of my favourite news sources.  I have recently deleted my Facebook account and unsubscribed from so many different newsletters and updates but kept Erkan.   I think it's clear why he's undeletable.

Laurie, a lovely friend, introduced me to Ed Sheeran's music and this song has to be a favourite.  Peter Jackson agreed and this song was created for the Hobbit movie. 

Russell Brand, comedian and all kinds of other things, is out there doing his thing.  I can imagine how that red-necked friend of mine in Australia will love this link.  Here's the interview that started it all ... for me anyway.  Jeremy Paxman almost seems to take on more than expected when interviewing the Russell.

People, he's a comedian.  I've had to remind people although so is Jon Stewart...

I've committed to the NaBloPoMo month of daily blogging ... an interesting challenge, to rock up here everyday and write something that I've decided is okay to publish. 

NaBloPoMo ... I was inspired to sign up by this beautiful soul. It's all about turning up and writing, and I needed to work on that habit. 

I was gifted the documentary Restrepo recently.  Tim Heatherington was a rather remarkable war photographer, a rather remarkable human being actually, killed in Libya in 2011.  This documentary was the result of being embedded with a platoon stationed in Afghanistan.  He worked on it with Sebastian Junger, author, journalist and documentarian, most famous for the best-selling book The Perfect Storm.

Nate Thayer wrote of a musician's protest against 'working for exposure', as opposed to cash, going viral.  An important story.  One that is happening across the arts fields, as musicians, writers and photographers are increasingly told, by large corporations and organisations, that there is no budget for the ... 

A long overdue conversation. 

News to end this post with.  I sparked a bit of conversation back when I was still on Facebook.  Turns out that I might be the only person of my generation in the world who didn't know the music of Van Morrison.  To be fair, I knew a lot of songs once I started really looking but he has so many sounds ...

Okay, fairly shameful.  I was watching my favourite television show of all time ... The Newsroom, and there was Van Morrison, singing that song.  I picked up some lyrics, searched them, found him.

And now ...the Ostrich.

Amy Turn Sharp

Amy Turn Sharp writes poems I adore. 

On a day like today, when that UK storm is passing over us here in Belgium.  When the sun comes and goes.  When I am waiting on all kinds of things, unable to concentrate, I wander on over to 'Amy's Place' and find treasure like this.

I found Anna Sun over there once. 

Amy's poems are like this ...

Reading her website feels like going on a roadtrip, with good music and truly excellent stories.

Belly laughter and red wine, without hangovers.

I found the quote on the photograph below ... over on Amy's website, of course.

Verona, Italy

It's been a freefall into life and people and adventures lately ...

A.  Free. Fall.

Sometimes I've found myself wondering if I might hit the wall, other times it has been about 'when' I would hit that wall.

And people.  It has been a festival of folk I adore, or folk I have come to adore. And family.  And everyone else too.

But tonight ... tonight finds me, in Verona, Italy, listening to Zucchero, Pavarotti, and Bocelli singing Miserere.  Introducing Julie to the music of Zucchero actually... because we need him in the car as we roadtrip tomorrow and because she confessed that, like me, she loves Pavarotti.

We ate dinner at Locandina Cappello tonight and matched a delicious pasta with a delightful red wine ... a Valpollicella Classico Superiore Ognisanti Bertani DOC.  I wouldn't mind finding some more of that particular red wine. 

You see we had wandered through the old city centre, in search of the perfect place to have our 'first night in Italy' dinner, and realised that we are really looking forward to wandering in tomorrow morning's first light.  It seems like a pretty city ... and while Genova has my heart and soul, it seems my head could be slightly turned by Verona.

Although that turn of head might be because of the kindness of strangers here.  You see, just before we arrived at our 'tricky to find anyway' destination, and after Julie had driven 201kms, our NEW GPS died.  For some reason it wasn't receiving a charge from the car's cigarette lighter ...despite me pressing it in there when we got the low battery warning.

So there we were, in the ancient part of the city ...without directions.

I saw a man walking along the street, and stopped him to ask for directions.  He turned on his phone, pulled up his GPS, frowned, sighed a little, and gave us a couple of options on locating this difficult to find street.  He apologised for the complications we would encounter.

We set off and ended up taking the most difficult option while managing to follow his spoken directions then we saw two young men walking along the street and we stopped so I could ask them if they could help a little. They turned on their phones, turned on their GPS function ... our street didn't come up  and they admitted that while they were studying in Verona, they weren't from Verona.

We 3 stopped a woman walking by ... as you do, gently and politely, and she had no English but the young men spoke with her.  I saw some head-shaking and heard muttering.  I asked if it was complicated and yes, I was told.  Very.  She apologised and left.

We drove on.  I saw a guy walking along the street and stopped him to ask.  We had parked the car by now. He was a local and said he was in no hurry to go home and that he would walk us there.  And he did.

But, of course, we had no street number and so it was that another kind stranger, seeing us looking confused and staring at our papers while talking to our rescuer, came out and asked if he might help.  But he wasn't sure either ... and then another neighbour came over, and she offered her advice, and then another neighbour.

And suddenly, just as we were wandering off to the viccolo with the same name, The Guy arrived and we were rescued. He took up up upstairs to this cute little student flat/summer Air B&B.  And here we are, after a delicious dinner in this ancient city ... the location of a story I studied so long ago, back home in New Zealand, never imagining that one day I might wander by Juliet's balcony while searching out a place for dinner, one September evening in 2013.

Mosquitoes and Paul Kelly, Virginia Woolf, Vita and a Little Bit of Marlena As Well

The bite of a mosquito or some other insect turned feral on Friday.  I woke with a small disaster on my ankle and by Friday afternoon, I was at my local pharmacy, asking if she had anything for it.

She told me she had seen a few like it recently, the mozzies are mean this late late Spring and suggested anti-histamine which I didn't quite feel was right.  She sold me some cortisone cream and suggested I draw around the edge of the redness.  If it continued to spread, I would need a doctor.  I knew that but had never thought of drawing around the edges of it. 

So I drew around it, applied the cream but by bedtime, it was a bit hotter and I wasn't enjoying the feeling of air on the skin there.  Saturday, preferring to ignore these things, I applied the cortisone cream and pottered about but in the back of my mind my experience with cellulitis.

Years ago I barely escaped an antibiotic IV and hospital which, in retrospect, may have been simpler that complete bedrest and 6 courses of antibiotics, 2 at a time. 

Retrospect ... everything is so much clearer then.

I decided not to be a baby (because this New Zealander is tougher than tough, in a chickenhearted kind of way sometimes) and went shopping with Gert in the afternoon, we had errands to run but my throbbing ankle made me take a look mid-shopping expedition.  The area was a bit too red.  Gert sent me out to the car and finished up, then we wandered over to the emergency doctor ... with me still humming and haawing about it all.  You really had to prove you were injured or sick when I was growing up.  That kind of thing sticks.  'Was I just being neurotic?'

The doctor took a look and reassured me that it wasn't cellulitis but that it did need some attention.  That I could ice it if I wanted to, should cover it, and must take antibiotics. 

Antibiotics and I have a history.  They often affect me worse than the thing they are fixing.  So I woke up this morning, the heat had gone out of the area round the wound and it has turned a big corner but, by crikey, I feel miserable.  18 doses of antibiotic to go ...

So I'm bed-resting and reading today and have some excellent books next to the bed.  Paul Kelly's How To Make Gravy is superb.  And I'm playing his A-Z soundtrack as I devour it... it's the music he writes his 100 chapters of book about.  I couldn't travel with this book, it's a monster but tightly written.  Nothing boring yet.  He's an old hero of mine.  His Midnight Rain is the song I have loved best for years.

I found a TED talk Paul gave about the book ... with a song too.  It might give you a sense of what I love about him and his music so I added it at the end of this post.

I'm also dipping in and out of The Letters of Vita Sackwille-West and Virginia Woolf, another huge book that is best read lying down.  And then, in those other moments, different mood, I'm reading the third in a favourite series of mine ... Marlena De Blasi's The Lady in the Palazzo.

It almost makes the stopping and resting thing okay.

Di's Plush New Office Chair ... the song

It's been busy lately.  Really busy.  But I guess that's nothing new however, on the list of things that make me smile, this song arrived on Saturday night.  Peter and Julie are back in Berlin but they read of my plush new office chair over on Facebook.  Hilarity followed, as they penned and then sang me a song.

Then yesterday was a beautiful blue-sky Sunday so Gert and I got up early and wandered off to Waterloo.  There's an antiques/flea market over there.  300 stalls.  Europe.  It's delicious.  A 5 euro leather coin purse was found.  The gorgeous Wendy was there too and, somehow, we bumped into each other in the crowds.

We came home via the most glorious bakery ... I exaggerate not.  Located not too far from Waterloo,  the La ferme du Hameau du Roy makes the most stunning baked goods I've tasted in a long time.  Gert took the photograph at the end of this post, using his iPhone.  We sat on the bench outside, with our food, enjoying the idyllic scene laid out in front of us.

It's been like that, the sublime mixed with the mess of everyday life.

It's life. 

Take down a musical instrument ...

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don’t open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.
Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.
- Rumi

A beautiful soul I met and was fortunate enough to photograph in those days when I lived in Berlin for a while.  Thank you, Noga.

Agrippina, the Opera, in Belgium

It happened quite unexpectedly ...

Tonight, a lovely friend in North Carolina wrote of his yearning to be in Belgium, in order to watch Ann Hallenberg perform in the Vlaamse Opera production, Agrippina.

I asked him about the location, he replied Gent and then wrote so many good things about Agrippina as an opera and about Ann as one of the best mezzo sopranos in the world that ... I just had to go and try booking a seat for my very first opera.

It worked, I am booked ... and now I'm really rather looking forward to this journey into a world I have only suspected I might love.

I recommend the youtube below.  It offers you a 'Backstage view of the opera production 'Agrippina', starring emperor Nero's power hungry mother. A baroque master piece by Händel, in an eighties styled version by Mariame Clément'.

Somehow ... it was all this and more

Somehow, without intention... without preparing for it all, I have been busy.

Monday, I interviewed the lovely singer/musician/yoga teacher, Luc Acke.  Friday night, I had the pleasure of attending his sneak preview concert, the one where he and Spring Groove performed tracks from the album they're making together ... HOME.

I was interviewed by a student of journalism on Wednesday.

Wandered city streets for the photography workshop on Friday.

All the while, preparing for a massive dinner party/party on Saturday.  Erik Rasmussen was in town and it seemed like a good idea to catch up with him, Paola and Simon, Cloe and Brian, pre-party.  And so we did dinner.

There was this really fast  turn-around, and we were ready as everyone started arriving for the party at 8pm.  It was a good party.  10 nationalities, excellent people, intense conversations, and much laughter too.

My carriage turned back into a pumpkin around midnight and voila, I fell into this horrible cold that's going around.  I've spent the last two days dozing and napping, only venturing out into that 'other world' called Facebook, when the notion of slowing down and stopping has become too much for me.

But this week has to be quieter, even I know that ... although the headache has gone, the cold remains.  I might just chill out a few days more and make sure it goes.  I  play Missy Higgins and listen to the sea in her track, sure it has some kind of medicinal property.  I wash dishes and do laundry quietly and slowly.  It's okay.

Gert meanwhile, has been caught up in preparation for Belgium's local-body elections.  Last night, the country watched as the Flemish Nationalists stormed to victory in Flanders, and so I'm curious. 

Back in New Zealand in 2000/2001/2002 ... what was I studying

The European Union, of course ... via political anthropology classes with the author of this book, Douglas R Holmes.  He was fascinating and we were lucky to have him for more than one paper down there at the bottom of the world.

So you can imagine, perhaps, I'm bemused to find myself in the centre of this nationalist victory here in Flanders.  Other countries in Europe will surely be watching to see how it all plays out as Belgium begins to walk towards their national elections in two years ... with a nationalist government in power in the Flemish half of the country.

I shall observe with interest.  But anyway, meet Luc and Spring, taken during their Friday performance ...

Going Home ... and Missy Higgins.

I found the music of Missy Higgins today, just after finding an old favourite of mine ... Paul Kelly's song, Midnight Rain, via youtube.  I've been searching for it online for years.

He sang with Missy and, curious, I went wandering through her world and found Everyone's Waiting ...see the clip below.

And I watched it and remembered swimming in New Zealand's oceans.  I remembered how good it felt to walk my dogs on the beaches.  I remembered startling one of my favourite dogs out on Long Beach, in Dunedin, when I ran into the surf with her ... fully clothed, one day when I just needed to swim.

Then I hit replay and listened while I wrote to a friend.  Not seeing the flim clip, I heard the familar roar of the surf, the crackle and slosh of the sea ... and something clicked, in my soul perhaps.

And I cracked open a spare moleskin notebook I had here. 

I wrote New Zealand there on its front page, and started a list.

- find a copy of the movie 'In My Father's Den'.

- swim in the sea

- stand and walk in the surf, (photograph that to bring back to Europe when I leave).

And finally, so long after booking the tickets, I let my mind sift through the possibilities ... sunrises with coffee, outside, someplace beautiful.

Seeing my nieces, the Georgia and Katie creatures, who were 8 years younger when I left and now, well ... they're both teenagers. 

And my much-loved favourite sister, Sandra, and my dad ... and one of my brothers, Steve, will be over from Australia.

There might be sunsets and wine, and long conversations ... with friends, like Dave and Jude, Christine and Peter, Fiona and Barry and others ...  but I talk of them here.

Anyway, I'll be letting this song of Missy's take me home in the meanwhile ... and maybe I'll play up loud as we wander New Zealand ... letting Home sink back into my bones and fill me again.