I wouldn't normally have chosen this subject matter to read but I had been having a Sebastian Faulks moment... when my bunion incapacitated me. I had borrowed this book from a friend.
I persevered and came to enjoy the different scenes in different chapters with different characters... it activated the mind and memory and I was not only pleased to reach the end but pleased that I'd had the challenge.
If you'd like a much more detailed book review then go to The Guardian!
Wednesday 19 March 2014
Tuesday 18 March 2014
Book Review: Charlotte Gray
The novel Charlotte Gray was written in 1999 by Sebastian Faulks with a film directed by Gillian Armstrong starring Cate Blanchet released in 2001.
I loved this book. It was profound and emotionally educational unravelling some of the tangled thoughts about my own parental relationship.
page 474:
I was upset when she commented about how her father was emotionally and mentally damaged by his experiences in WWI.
I began to realise that my own parents may have been proud of me but they never ever praised me in all of my life. My mother once did say I was clever so maybe that counts!
I was in tears towards the end of the book:
the author writes about a man's need and fears of being a father, a person, a man as a boy and how men can be a prisoner of sensual desire.... so I started to wonder about how people set themselves free from the chains that they have self-imposed. When I was in my 30s or 40s I doodled many chains and wrote about myself being a prisoner but then I did not know what of! I still have that INNER CHILD THERAPY JOURNAL.
page 482:
I had a kind of revelation. I began to sob suddenly and uncontrollably as I realized that possibly I had never ever really thought about MY LIFE from my parents' viewpoint ... It is what I have been expecting my grown up children to do! I want them to appreciate and understand that I think about their lives from my viewpoint and I think that perhaps one of them hasn't yet understood that and won't until he becomes a parent.
page 483:
I interpret the author's writings:
The noise of shouting and violence... the sight and sound of torment, grief and horror cause the destruction of the softness of love.
Wikipedia says:
"The character of Charlotte Gray was based on a New Zealand woman called Nancy Wake who worked with the French Resistance near a village called Verneix in the Auvergne region. Instead of escaping she became a courier for the resistance but had to eventually flee to Spain and then England where she was trained by the SOE. She was parachuted back into France on 29 April 1944 and went on to lead a 7,000 strong resistance group in the Auvergne region. Her husband, Henri Fioca, was tortured and killed by the Gestapo for failing to reveal her whereabouts."
I loved this book. It was profound and emotionally educational unravelling some of the tangled thoughts about my own parental relationship.
page 474:
I was upset when she commented about how her father was emotionally and mentally damaged by his experiences in WWI.
I began to realise that my own parents may have been proud of me but they never ever praised me in all of my life. My mother once did say I was clever so maybe that counts!
I was in tears towards the end of the book:
"She strained at the memory of her childhood, at the sense of some rapture lost. Yet it all remained like some frozen sea: great blocks of ice, submerged but static, and beyond the melting capacity of her conscious will."......... "her mother would turn form intimacy"page 479 and after:
the author writes about a man's need and fears of being a father, a person, a man as a boy and how men can be a prisoner of sensual desire.... so I started to wonder about how people set themselves free from the chains that they have self-imposed. When I was in my 30s or 40s I doodled many chains and wrote about myself being a prisoner but then I did not know what of! I still have that INNER CHILD THERAPY JOURNAL.
page 482:
I had a kind of revelation. I began to sob suddenly and uncontrollably as I realized that possibly I had never ever really thought about MY LIFE from my parents' viewpoint ... It is what I have been expecting my grown up children to do! I want them to appreciate and understand that I think about their lives from my viewpoint and I think that perhaps one of them hasn't yet understood that and won't until he becomes a parent.
page 483:
I interpret the author's writings:
The noise of shouting and violence... the sight and sound of torment, grief and horror cause the destruction of the softness of love.
``````````````````
In this novel, Charlotte Gray, a young Scot, became involved with the
French resistance at Vichy, in 1942, during the Second World War. She'd traveled to London to work as a medical receptionist for a Harley Street doctor but on the train
she shared a compartment with two men, one
who works for the secret service and he invites her to contact him when the job gets boring. Despite the war,
social life was in full swing and she soon meets an accomplished airman, Peter Gregory. The temporary nature
of life at wartime brings romance where she loses her virginity
and her heart. Peter is
sent on a mission over France and becomes missing in action. She joins a Special Operations
Executive (SOE) training course where about one third of the women sent to France never returned. The secret service exploit her talent to speak French fluently and she is happy to return to France where she spent much of her childhood. She passes interrogation to be a spy, has her hair and dentistry adapted to look more like a French woman and is parachuted into France to complete a specified
mission. She goes AWOL and sets out to
find Gregory.Wikipedia says:
"The character of Charlotte Gray was based on a New Zealand woman called Nancy Wake who worked with the French Resistance near a village called Verneix in the Auvergne region. Instead of escaping she became a courier for the resistance but had to eventually flee to Spain and then England where she was trained by the SOE. She was parachuted back into France on 29 April 1944 and went on to lead a 7,000 strong resistance group in the Auvergne region. Her husband, Henri Fioca, was tortured and killed by the Gestapo for failing to reveal her whereabouts."
Monday 17 March 2014
Quince blossom
Sunday 16 March 2014
Rain collection
One can often see chains such where water flows from the gutter without a down-pipe.
I'm not sure where the overflow must go!
Angles sur L'Anglin
Saturday 15 March 2014
London Small Room Art
February 2013 Visit to Aldgate:
Off to the ladies room at a café bar. Wall art inside the cubicle was fun. An incessant chuckle ensued!
Off to the ladies room at a café bar. Wall art inside the cubicle was fun. An incessant chuckle ensued!
Friday 14 March 2014
Chatellerault shop exterior
I have been meaning to capture this Quincaillerie exterior for the last 9 years.
Now I see it has closed!
It is just to the side of the food market.
It has something (je ne sais quoi) about the colours, the sign-writing, the symmetry!
Thursday 13 March 2014
Animalia
Not quite like the song about the sale of a doggie in a window!
A fixed feature, not far from La Place in Angles sur L'Anglin,
A fixed feature, not far from La Place in Angles sur L'Anglin,
one of 157 plus beaux villages de France.
Wednesday 12 March 2014
Groovy Music
"Wild Thing" is what I wished to be as an adolescent in 1965 when I viewed the world from a window, restricted by The Parents from going anywhere that I dreamed of.....
I could see the world looked so exciting!
A few years later I was a "Free Bird" and off to the world of Study!
Tuesday 11 March 2014
Flying colours
I was very happy to host accommodation for guests, one of whom I only met for about 10 minutes or so in September 2013. They were extremely, embarrassingly generous with gifts of wine, coffee, nibbles and hand-made biscuits exquisitely presented all from Italy. I celebrate and share the very warm glow of their comment:
"Thank you so much for your wonderful hospitality, generosity and lovely company."
They are lovely people and are coming to live in my village. It was my pleasure to meet them. And I am invited there!
My Italian vocabulary is veritably non-existent. I learned a little in music college for singing but now I need to have a crash course of study! Fortunately, J is a linguist and could translate English into Italian for A who understands French. Another incentive to improve my French speaking, to learn French phrases, to think in French, to improve conjugaison and word order!!!! Oh, workload and study must increase!
Evidently, the potential chambre d'hôte, has passed the inspection test with flying colours. Wow!!!!!
I need to get other domestic issues in place before I can achieve this ideal!
I have so much to thank my former partner for. I could never have achieved the transformation of this house and garden alone or without him. We have worked together as a team. I know it has been hard for me (and probably him) and we have been through the most terrible of storms once the sea started to get choppy, when enmity replaced love, but I wish to celebrate HIM and HIS ACHIEVEMENTS, HIS attempt to make his workmanship impeccable. Nothing is perfect in old houses and some stuff one lives with and after a while one does not see the imperfections!!!! As he says "Who would have thought that someone who lived in an ultra modern home would ever live here in this French house by herself?"
It is true that he had to lever me out of one house to another and from one country to another and face the fears that emotionally and physically paralysed me. A friend indeed.
I thank him publicly for all the difficult times and fun times we had together. He helped me be who I am, what I am and where I am. I changed and yet have not changed. I have grown up! And perhaps he has too! I did my best to help him and support him but along the way we grew apart. It is true that trauma is necessary as a learning tool but I wish it upon no one as I have had more than enough of trauma in my life time and now I feel as if I am beginning to live! I am afraid of the future but ready for the challenge. I hope he is too!
When I was in the classroom I learned not very much about my inner self ... and who I am... but since early retirement and that major op, I have kept learning, even though I did get stuck in a rut along the way!
"Thank you so much for your wonderful hospitality, generosity and lovely company."
They are lovely people and are coming to live in my village. It was my pleasure to meet them. And I am invited there!
My Italian vocabulary is veritably non-existent. I learned a little in music college for singing but now I need to have a crash course of study! Fortunately, J is a linguist and could translate English into Italian for A who understands French. Another incentive to improve my French speaking, to learn French phrases, to think in French, to improve conjugaison and word order!!!! Oh, workload and study must increase!
Evidently, the potential chambre d'hôte, has passed the inspection test with flying colours. Wow!!!!!
I need to get other domestic issues in place before I can achieve this ideal!
I have so much to thank my former partner for. I could never have achieved the transformation of this house and garden alone or without him. We have worked together as a team. I know it has been hard for me (and probably him) and we have been through the most terrible of storms once the sea started to get choppy, when enmity replaced love, but I wish to celebrate HIM and HIS ACHIEVEMENTS, HIS attempt to make his workmanship impeccable. Nothing is perfect in old houses and some stuff one lives with and after a while one does not see the imperfections!!!! As he says "Who would have thought that someone who lived in an ultra modern home would ever live here in this French house by herself?"
It is true that he had to lever me out of one house to another and from one country to another and face the fears that emotionally and physically paralysed me. A friend indeed.
I thank him publicly for all the difficult times and fun times we had together. He helped me be who I am, what I am and where I am. I changed and yet have not changed. I have grown up! And perhaps he has too! I did my best to help him and support him but along the way we grew apart. It is true that trauma is necessary as a learning tool but I wish it upon no one as I have had more than enough of trauma in my life time and now I feel as if I am beginning to live! I am afraid of the future but ready for the challenge. I hope he is too!
When I was in the classroom I learned not very much about my inner self ... and who I am... but since early retirement and that major op, I have kept learning, even though I did get stuck in a rut along the way!
Monday 10 March 2014
Yesterday.....Spring......Arrives
It is more than warm when layers are abandoned to one single layer, when leggings are discarded.
It is more than warm when Purple mugwort Toothwort (Lathrea clandestina) bloom in the presence of starry-yellow celandines....
 |
| A root parasite with explosive seed capsules |
another passer by commented to his wife that they were following the river....
Oh how I love being alive in France!!
Sunday 9 March 2014
London Street Art
In February last year, Street Art, Sculpture and Architecture within the vicinity of Old Spitalfields Market, Brick Lane and Aldgate was exciting and fun! I stayed for one night in City Hotel in what I thought was a single room but they'd upgraded me to a huge double bed and a single bed. Oh what luxury "toute seule"!!!! My son and I met up mid day for coffee and a chat and then lunch and a chat at Wagamama. Soup and tea was delicious.
Saturday 8 March 2014
Hopelessly wrinkled
On 6th March I washed and ironed the new Egyptian cotton bedlinen from The White Company
bought July 2013. Hopelessly wrinkled. I tired inwardly whilst steam ironing after what felt like two hours on and off .... and so washed the duvet cover and sheet again at 30C, as indicated. This time I
reduced the spin speed and ironed whilst wet according to the instructions and dried on the line. Previously I had ironed whilst damp. Again Hopelessly wrinkled. I've phoned the company who say they have not
heard of this problem before and as it is past 30 days since I made the purchase they probably
can't refund. However, they will send a return post label and the
technical team will look at £133 worth of bedlinen and if they cannot
refund, will send it all back to me!
I don't understand why the 4 pillow cases are acceptably crinkled, wrinkled after ironing... but the sheet and duvet cover are rather like that dress fabric which has been crushed, pleated, crumpled and wrinkled...... I wouldn't put this bed linen on my own bed. I've read that with repeated washing the fabric gives in and the wrinkles disappear but I can't quite believe that in this modern age of instant gratification!
It is so annoying as I wasted much time today trying to prepare beds for the Italian guests. I am using them as guinea pigs for the chambre d'hôte .... I'm not sure I like giving up my perfect room and the cleaning has to be impeccable with not a cobweb, spider or feather in sight. It's worse because the opportunity arose without me thinking it through, as it is good to help people, do the voluntary mine host thingy. I often step into situations where I think after the event!!!!! Fortunately, my friend stepped in to suggest that this and that could be achieved. I was so pleased as other efforts to bring people in to help have failed or not yet come to fruition..
HOWEVER...
The guests are absolutely charming in that Italian way... Bellissimo... and this morning I am thinking that although the current arrangement is a little difficult, it could work if I were to get a toilet and shower in another part of the building. Is it worth the hassle and expense, I ask myself?
We enjoyed MY FISH PIE .. every version different.. and a Coeur de Neufchatel cheese which I bought over a month ago, stored in the fridge, took out yesterday morning for it to breathe and there is hardly any left!!!!!!! The Paschka whilst delicious was too calorie / fat laden for my lovely guests...and in my fridge which is a freezer it makes delicious ice-cream!
I don't understand why the 4 pillow cases are acceptably crinkled, wrinkled after ironing... but the sheet and duvet cover are rather like that dress fabric which has been crushed, pleated, crumpled and wrinkled...... I wouldn't put this bed linen on my own bed. I've read that with repeated washing the fabric gives in and the wrinkles disappear but I can't quite believe that in this modern age of instant gratification!
It is so annoying as I wasted much time today trying to prepare beds for the Italian guests. I am using them as guinea pigs for the chambre d'hôte .... I'm not sure I like giving up my perfect room and the cleaning has to be impeccable with not a cobweb, spider or feather in sight. It's worse because the opportunity arose without me thinking it through, as it is good to help people, do the voluntary mine host thingy. I often step into situations where I think after the event!!!!! Fortunately, my friend stepped in to suggest that this and that could be achieved. I was so pleased as other efforts to bring people in to help have failed or not yet come to fruition..
HOWEVER...
The guests are absolutely charming in that Italian way... Bellissimo... and this morning I am thinking that although the current arrangement is a little difficult, it could work if I were to get a toilet and shower in another part of the building. Is it worth the hassle and expense, I ask myself?
We enjoyed MY FISH PIE .. every version different.. and a Coeur de Neufchatel cheese which I bought over a month ago, stored in the fridge, took out yesterday morning for it to breathe and there is hardly any left!!!!!!! The Paschka whilst delicious was too calorie / fat laden for my lovely guests...and in my fridge which is a freezer it makes delicious ice-cream!
Friday 7 March 2014
Facing the onset of Spring
Days become lighter mornings and evenings and with that a frosty morning snap has arrived.
My arms have been working, stretching, lifting, carrying, which seems to suit the pain. It's very odd, because at night, the pain keeps me awake or wakes me so that I lose sleep. I have a sneaking suspicion that the inflammation has reduced but am reluctant to say that there is improvement, or that the pain is getting better. Ginger tea is the order of each day as it is a natural anti-inflammatory! And so it is and so.
The media reports about the elderly. Am I becoming thus :)? It is scary! I loved to hear about Nell on Woman's Hour this week. She is 100 Years old and a true inspiration. She cleans every day and says it's much easier for her once the lady has giving it 'a do' ... what a marvellous expression! Keep on moving that's what we've all got to do. Use it or lose it. I do my best to keep moving but it has to further improve! When I sit still and cannot peel myself away from technology, I know that if I can dance or 'faire le repassage' / iron the bedlinen whilst David Bowie sings then I will feel better! But I like to sit and write / type, read the news, research this and that which the internet provides. It has transformed my life.
Whilst Facing the onset of Spring:
There is a 2 stere stack of logs from 2013, yet I daren't touch them as they are stacked so well. Therefore, using the machine, I have started splitting logs from the January 2014 delivery. Really that wood needs to dry out a little more as some will not give to the 400 kilo pressure. Smaller/thinner oak logs give greater immediate heat. Although the sun has been shining, some days or parts of days are still pretty cold, but there are times when one can have morning coffee or afternoon tea in the courtyard or rear garden. There has been what I call a RAW East Anglian spike to the crisp, cold-blue sky and an edge to the wind. Tonight, 5th March, one can see Orion The Hunter lit by the myriads of stars and single crescent moon.
Whilst Facing the early Spring, pages of Life turn...
I've been walking around my house climbing ladders, sorting and spring cleaning. I like DIY when part of a team, even though I am mainly the support skivvy. Friendship should have been more than working at home improvement. It's been a fact that I can't do this work alone. Eventually, with not great effort, I succumbed to accepting an offer of help and I, in turn try to help him. I've said it before that 'It's not yet finished until it's finished'. Friendship doesn't just cease. Whilst there is laughter and fun which makes us happy, there is another day to celebrate, another day to live, another day to gather happiness around us! What is happiness? What is friendship? What is a relationship?
I know that if I truly love someone then that love will go wherever she/he stays and wherever she/he goes. In the case if my friend, I hope that my love will give him courage to find whatever he thinks he is looking for, whatever he thinks he didn't have when he lived with me! I give him my blessings.
I / he / we haven't always been kind to each other and that fact hurts me beyond belief in my darkest moments... and...then I wake up!!!!!
I / he/we have been quite frustrated with each other for all sorts of reasons.
It's a shame and a waste of friendship!
I don't understand how people have successful friendships let alone relationships or marriage!
He jokingly but seriously says I must take advantage. The Wheels of Life are moving and we face further future LOSS. On my return from a long drive to buy a matching curtain pole to the first, I sobbed most of the 50 minute journey home!!!!!!! Why do I cry? I know why!!!!!!! But as I cry, I think, and thinking whilst I drive helps to unravel emotion, though it's not quite safe to do all this at the same time! I absolutely know how I feel and it won't go away and by Jove I have tried, even not connecting with him for 5 months! Its feels like a form of madness, illogical, worse when he have made contact and then are apart. Unrequited Love, I suppose that is what it is....
How are people able to care so much for each other after 15, 30, 50 or more years of marriage?
What made us so co-dependently close and then what made us fail to keep tolerant and patient with our foibles? I/he/we made so many mistakes!
Why is it that the smallest of jobs and most final of tasks when titivating interior decoration seem to take for ever? However, those 6 French doors of the barn part of the house are at last painted internally. Now wooden battens fixed to polystyrene backed plaster-boarded walls take curtain poles to receive beautiful Laura Ashley cream damask curtains from a house I left in 2002. They have emerged from the suitcase, visited the dry-cleaners at huge expense, but the lovely lady halved the price as there were 4 curtains, and at last they now provide ambience. However, I must sit and lower the hem which means using needle, thread and patience.
I'm trying to consider having a chambre d'hôte in the high season. This week and last we've been working through small jobs where broken door-knobs have been repaired, plumbing to the exterior toilet and sink has been repaired, and there has been much drilling, sawing, sanding, painting.
It has been a pleasure!
My arms have been working, stretching, lifting, carrying, which seems to suit the pain. It's very odd, because at night, the pain keeps me awake or wakes me so that I lose sleep. I have a sneaking suspicion that the inflammation has reduced but am reluctant to say that there is improvement, or that the pain is getting better. Ginger tea is the order of each day as it is a natural anti-inflammatory! And so it is and so.
The media reports about the elderly. Am I becoming thus :)? It is scary! I loved to hear about Nell on Woman's Hour this week. She is 100 Years old and a true inspiration. She cleans every day and says it's much easier for her once the lady has giving it 'a do' ... what a marvellous expression! Keep on moving that's what we've all got to do. Use it or lose it. I do my best to keep moving but it has to further improve! When I sit still and cannot peel myself away from technology, I know that if I can dance or 'faire le repassage' / iron the bedlinen whilst David Bowie sings then I will feel better! But I like to sit and write / type, read the news, research this and that which the internet provides. It has transformed my life.
Whilst Facing the onset of Spring:
There is a 2 stere stack of logs from 2013, yet I daren't touch them as they are stacked so well. Therefore, using the machine, I have started splitting logs from the January 2014 delivery. Really that wood needs to dry out a little more as some will not give to the 400 kilo pressure. Smaller/thinner oak logs give greater immediate heat. Although the sun has been shining, some days or parts of days are still pretty cold, but there are times when one can have morning coffee or afternoon tea in the courtyard or rear garden. There has been what I call a RAW East Anglian spike to the crisp, cold-blue sky and an edge to the wind. Tonight, 5th March, one can see Orion The Hunter lit by the myriads of stars and single crescent moon.
Whilst Facing the early Spring, pages of Life turn...
I've been walking around my house climbing ladders, sorting and spring cleaning. I like DIY when part of a team, even though I am mainly the support skivvy. Friendship should have been more than working at home improvement. It's been a fact that I can't do this work alone. Eventually, with not great effort, I succumbed to accepting an offer of help and I, in turn try to help him. I've said it before that 'It's not yet finished until it's finished'. Friendship doesn't just cease. Whilst there is laughter and fun which makes us happy, there is another day to celebrate, another day to live, another day to gather happiness around us! What is happiness? What is friendship? What is a relationship?
I know that if I truly love someone then that love will go wherever she/he stays and wherever she/he goes. In the case if my friend, I hope that my love will give him courage to find whatever he thinks he is looking for, whatever he thinks he didn't have when he lived with me! I give him my blessings.
I / he / we haven't always been kind to each other and that fact hurts me beyond belief in my darkest moments... and...then I wake up!!!!!
I / he/we have been quite frustrated with each other for all sorts of reasons.
It's a shame and a waste of friendship!
I don't understand how people have successful friendships let alone relationships or marriage!
He jokingly but seriously says I must take advantage. The Wheels of Life are moving and we face further future LOSS. On my return from a long drive to buy a matching curtain pole to the first, I sobbed most of the 50 minute journey home!!!!!!! Why do I cry? I know why!!!!!!! But as I cry, I think, and thinking whilst I drive helps to unravel emotion, though it's not quite safe to do all this at the same time! I absolutely know how I feel and it won't go away and by Jove I have tried, even not connecting with him for 5 months! Its feels like a form of madness, illogical, worse when he have made contact and then are apart. Unrequited Love, I suppose that is what it is....
How are people able to care so much for each other after 15, 30, 50 or more years of marriage?
What made us so co-dependently close and then what made us fail to keep tolerant and patient with our foibles? I/he/we made so many mistakes!
Why is it that the smallest of jobs and most final of tasks when titivating interior decoration seem to take for ever? However, those 6 French doors of the barn part of the house are at last painted internally. Now wooden battens fixed to polystyrene backed plaster-boarded walls take curtain poles to receive beautiful Laura Ashley cream damask curtains from a house I left in 2002. They have emerged from the suitcase, visited the dry-cleaners at huge expense, but the lovely lady halved the price as there were 4 curtains, and at last they now provide ambience. However, I must sit and lower the hem which means using needle, thread and patience.
I'm trying to consider having a chambre d'hôte in the high season. This week and last we've been working through small jobs where broken door-knobs have been repaired, plumbing to the exterior toilet and sink has been repaired, and there has been much drilling, sawing, sanding, painting.
It has been a pleasure!
Thursday 6 March 2014
Happy Birthday Grand daughter
My only grand child is 6 on 6th March. I searched for a photo of her that does not identify her...!!! Then discovered mummy, me and her larking about at Chenonceau on a sunny day in October.
I can't believe it was 18 months ago!!!!!!
Seems like yesterday.
My children do not take sufficient advantage of the fact that I live in France and will not live forever!
Wednesday 5 March 2014
An iron window
in Angles sur L'Anglin. One wonders who invented this design!
Do you see something different?
Tuesday 4 March 2014
Monday 3 March 2014
Mousey Mousey
This is Sweet Street Art in an Angles sur L'Anglin French Gutter, August 2013
The medium looked like Sealing Wax!
Sunday 2 March 2014
Book Review: Eric Clapton The Autobiography
An Icon. A Legend. God of Blues and of Guitar. Loved by so many!
I didn't realise he was and is a recovering alcoholic and of cocaine, but I'm not surprised, even though then, it was the days of sex 'n drugs 'n rock 'n roll! He endured much therapy before recognising and accepting his inner happiness in the position of a family man with Melia and their three daughters and he has an older daughter. Sadly, his young son died accidentally. His song 'Tears in Heaven' reflects upon that loss.
Eric was shy, insecure, with many obsessions/addictions and was fortunate that from his music he had an excellent income to supply those desires. A lonely soul finding it difficult to sometimes integrate behind the mask of who he thought he was. Yet it was his public persona that endeared him to so many: a brilliant musician, a perfectionist, an idealist, a modest man. He confesses to anger and disagreeable attitudes which cost him dear and momentarily lowered his status in my eyes (because I can't handle anger!) but by the time I'd finished reading his memoir, he was raised again to the Wonderful Man that I love for his music and for the perceptive and intuitive person whom I see and hear when he sings the lyrics of his songs and those written by others. Goodness knows how his women/wives coped or didn't cope with his absences as well as his addictions. I like to think that perhaps they were forgiving and some not without personal issues because no matter how rich we are, we are all the same: we are human!
I admire Eric Clapton for writing about his personal and professional life in intimate detail. I can feel him sitting next to me TELLING his story. Of course, it is history how he inveigled Pattie Boyd to be his lover and how George Harrison agreed. It is a Story of Unrequited Love. He recounts his personal and professional self discovery and his absorption with The Blues. He shows his struggles and redemption. He says he needed to be good at other things than being a musician. It was a revelation when he was asked "Who are you?', whilst receiving therapy and being on withdrawal from alcohol and drugs. Later in the book, page 282, he describes how he was confronted with the statement; "Tell me who you are" and found it a struggle to do so.
(I haven't been an alcoholic though I have to my shame known the edge, the precipice. I suppose I am one because giving up the glass or two of wine on a daily basis seems an impossibility for me, although Rooibus tea really helps! It's a small treat. A small blessing at my age! In my own self discovery I have held back from drowning in any form of alcoholic bliss, which is escape. Maybe everyone has to, at some stage, CHALLENGE the question of WHO we are and WHAT we are and how we fit into the world. It is human and normal but brings us up sharp to realise we have much to be thankful for.)
I loved and enjoyed reading about The Yardbirds, Cream, Ginger Baker, Jack Bruce, Derek and the Dominoes, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles and many other musicians. In the 70s I saw Ginger Baker play live. It seemed rather strange for me to be reading about an era in the late 1960s, when I wasn't allowed to go to the music clubs mentioned in Eric's well-scripted, frank, soul bearing, spirited, painfully joyous life story.
I've always wanted to meet him... and if I did I would go very weak at the knees! I can play "Layla", "Wonderful Tonight", "I Shot the Sheriff", and all the rest ALL DAY, EVERY DAY but I don't because there is so much lovely music in the world.
"Unplugged" 1992 is one of my favourite albums - but hey, they are all favourites!
Eric demonstrates his love, compassion, dedication. I'm glad his life has become a happier one and of course, Luck has been his Lady despite the ordeals.
A true Legend. A true Icon in Musical History.
I didn't realise he was and is a recovering alcoholic and of cocaine, but I'm not surprised, even though then, it was the days of sex 'n drugs 'n rock 'n roll! He endured much therapy before recognising and accepting his inner happiness in the position of a family man with Melia and their three daughters and he has an older daughter. Sadly, his young son died accidentally. His song 'Tears in Heaven' reflects upon that loss.
Eric was shy, insecure, with many obsessions/addictions and was fortunate that from his music he had an excellent income to supply those desires. A lonely soul finding it difficult to sometimes integrate behind the mask of who he thought he was. Yet it was his public persona that endeared him to so many: a brilliant musician, a perfectionist, an idealist, a modest man. He confesses to anger and disagreeable attitudes which cost him dear and momentarily lowered his status in my eyes (because I can't handle anger!) but by the time I'd finished reading his memoir, he was raised again to the Wonderful Man that I love for his music and for the perceptive and intuitive person whom I see and hear when he sings the lyrics of his songs and those written by others. Goodness knows how his women/wives coped or didn't cope with his absences as well as his addictions. I like to think that perhaps they were forgiving and some not without personal issues because no matter how rich we are, we are all the same: we are human!
I admire Eric Clapton for writing about his personal and professional life in intimate detail. I can feel him sitting next to me TELLING his story. Of course, it is history how he inveigled Pattie Boyd to be his lover and how George Harrison agreed. It is a Story of Unrequited Love. He recounts his personal and professional self discovery and his absorption with The Blues. He shows his struggles and redemption. He says he needed to be good at other things than being a musician. It was a revelation when he was asked "Who are you?', whilst receiving therapy and being on withdrawal from alcohol and drugs. Later in the book, page 282, he describes how he was confronted with the statement; "Tell me who you are" and found it a struggle to do so.
(I haven't been an alcoholic though I have to my shame known the edge, the precipice. I suppose I am one because giving up the glass or two of wine on a daily basis seems an impossibility for me, although Rooibus tea really helps! It's a small treat. A small blessing at my age! In my own self discovery I have held back from drowning in any form of alcoholic bliss, which is escape. Maybe everyone has to, at some stage, CHALLENGE the question of WHO we are and WHAT we are and how we fit into the world. It is human and normal but brings us up sharp to realise we have much to be thankful for.)
I loved and enjoyed reading about The Yardbirds, Cream, Ginger Baker, Jack Bruce, Derek and the Dominoes, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles and many other musicians. In the 70s I saw Ginger Baker play live. It seemed rather strange for me to be reading about an era in the late 1960s, when I wasn't allowed to go to the music clubs mentioned in Eric's well-scripted, frank, soul bearing, spirited, painfully joyous life story.
I've always wanted to meet him... and if I did I would go very weak at the knees! I can play "Layla", "Wonderful Tonight", "I Shot the Sheriff", and all the rest ALL DAY, EVERY DAY but I don't because there is so much lovely music in the world.
"Unplugged" 1992 is one of my favourite albums - but hey, they are all favourites!
Eric demonstrates his love, compassion, dedication. I'm glad his life has become a happier one and of course, Luck has been his Lady despite the ordeals.
A true Legend. A true Icon in Musical History.
I borrowed this book from a friend and need to return it!
Saturday 1 March 2014
Book Review: East of the Sun
This was a 2013 Summer birthday gift from my daughter. I like the fact
that she often gives new and recycled gifts. I suspect it is a book I
left at my daughter's house some years ago and now it has been returned
to me! It's a good read - perhaps a little lightweight - yet intriguing. I enjoyed
it whilst my brain was disconnected from my foot after the bunion op
last October. It was just right for curling up on the settee, spying the flames of the woodburner as I peeped out from the duvet!
Julia Gregson in 2008 published East of the Sun which is set in Autumn 1928.
The author researched real events and characters from Indian history. She learned about Indian Calvary regiments having heard about The Fishing Fleet. Young women travelled to India from UK for 'the Season' to become married or to search for a husband. Gregson recounts 'the party life' of bored British women East of the Sun. The main character acts as an inexperienced chaperone in order to reduce her own ticket to India. She escorts two giddy young women, one to be wed, the other to be a bridesmaid, and an obnoxional, young boy with OCD, expelled from a boarding school. Viva is naive with her romance and childhood memories, still in personal denial now that her parents are deceased. Whilst exorcising her memories, she discovers that her parents were not necessarily the ogres she thought they were... Ah, this rings a resonance with me and it should with my offspring, one of whom, knows not what it is like to be a parent. Hope and secrets, truths and lies, good and bad conduct interact to eventually produce a form of freedom for each character.
Julia Gregson in 2008 published East of the Sun which is set in Autumn 1928.
The author researched real events and characters from Indian history. She learned about Indian Calvary regiments having heard about The Fishing Fleet. Young women travelled to India from UK for 'the Season' to become married or to search for a husband. Gregson recounts 'the party life' of bored British women East of the Sun. The main character acts as an inexperienced chaperone in order to reduce her own ticket to India. She escorts two giddy young women, one to be wed, the other to be a bridesmaid, and an obnoxional, young boy with OCD, expelled from a boarding school. Viva is naive with her romance and childhood memories, still in personal denial now that her parents are deceased. Whilst exorcising her memories, she discovers that her parents were not necessarily the ogres she thought they were... Ah, this rings a resonance with me and it should with my offspring, one of whom, knows not what it is like to be a parent. Hope and secrets, truths and lies, good and bad conduct interact to eventually produce a form of freedom for each character.
Friday 28 February 2014
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