Kandinskyesque
Tele-Holic
I'll never take another gig for granted ever again.
I last gigged in late 2017, when a long term health/disability issue caught up with me. Since then, I became increasingly bedbound and subsequently very depressed until reaching the nadir of utter demoralisation last year with 90% of 2021 having me unable to get out of bed.
Some treatment for pituitary dysfunction which started at the end of last year has had me reduce my bedbound time to about 50%.
I was asked to play a 45 min set at a fundraising event this Saturday and since agreeing to it there seems to be a spark I haven't felt for a long time.
In the past 5 days my time of feeling utterly fatigued has reduced by half, I haven't felt so much as a tinge of depression. I even restrung and set up 5 guitars over the weekend, including a 70 mile round trip to a luthier to fix something beyond my ability.
This forthcoming 45 minutes of playing has given me more meaning that all my navel gazing, fighting illness and philosophising could ever do.
Mrs K noticed it before me, we were both concerned about the crash afterwards
This afternoon my next door neighbour (public art sculptor) popped round to tell me he was having the grand opening of his 20 acre environmental arts centre in mid July. It's a whole day and evening event. He has spent 4 years developing it near Loch Lomond.
There's about 150 people going to it.
The date happens to be the day Mrs K and I are taking the 4 grandkids for a week at the coast.
Not knowing about my holiday, my neighbour asked me if I could play three one hour long sets throughout the day.
Before I could open my mouth to explain my holiday plans, Mrs K answered a very firm "Of course he'll do it!" she then said we can postpone the holiday for 24 hours if it means getting the version of me for the next 8 weeks, albeit exhausted by bedtime, that she's seen over the past week.
After my neighbour left, Mrs K asked me if I'd ever realised how much performing was part of my life force. I knew that partially but not as obviously as she did. Thinking about it, our second date in 1988 was me doing a singer songwriter set in a bar one Saturday afternoon.
"Just promise me you'll never take another gig for granted again. Ever!" she said.
I promised and I won't ever take another gig for granted.
I last gigged in late 2017, when a long term health/disability issue caught up with me. Since then, I became increasingly bedbound and subsequently very depressed until reaching the nadir of utter demoralisation last year with 90% of 2021 having me unable to get out of bed.
Some treatment for pituitary dysfunction which started at the end of last year has had me reduce my bedbound time to about 50%.
I was asked to play a 45 min set at a fundraising event this Saturday and since agreeing to it there seems to be a spark I haven't felt for a long time.
In the past 5 days my time of feeling utterly fatigued has reduced by half, I haven't felt so much as a tinge of depression. I even restrung and set up 5 guitars over the weekend, including a 70 mile round trip to a luthier to fix something beyond my ability.
This forthcoming 45 minutes of playing has given me more meaning that all my navel gazing, fighting illness and philosophising could ever do.
Mrs K noticed it before me, we were both concerned about the crash afterwards
This afternoon my next door neighbour (public art sculptor) popped round to tell me he was having the grand opening of his 20 acre environmental arts centre in mid July. It's a whole day and evening event. He has spent 4 years developing it near Loch Lomond.
There's about 150 people going to it.
The date happens to be the day Mrs K and I are taking the 4 grandkids for a week at the coast.
Not knowing about my holiday, my neighbour asked me if I could play three one hour long sets throughout the day.
Before I could open my mouth to explain my holiday plans, Mrs K answered a very firm "Of course he'll do it!" she then said we can postpone the holiday for 24 hours if it means getting the version of me for the next 8 weeks, albeit exhausted by bedtime, that she's seen over the past week.
After my neighbour left, Mrs K asked me if I'd ever realised how much performing was part of my life force. I knew that partially but not as obviously as she did. Thinking about it, our second date in 1988 was me doing a singer songwriter set in a bar one Saturday afternoon.
"Just promise me you'll never take another gig for granted again. Ever!" she said.
I promised and I won't ever take another gig for granted.
