Originally from the west coast of Scotland, I now live in Buckinghamshire, England with my wife and daughter. Compared to us Scots, I find most English people to be a dour, uptight and unsociable bunch. Speaking one's mind is frowned upon here. I think this is the reason that most of the folk down here think me to be either a nutter or a crazy bastard! The English, I find, would rather speak about one behind one's back than actually come out and say something to one's face. Having said that, I did marry an English lass, and a very pretty one she is too! In nature as well as looks. I guess there are exceptions to every rule.
This is my adopted English town
The countryside where I live is very beautiful as my adopted town nestles in the Chiltern hills. I am very happy living here and the only thing I miss about Scotland, apart from the warmth and openness of the people, is the cry of the sea gulls. My home in Scotland was practically on the coast and not far from this hill here ;
And In a fine summer evening I'd like to sit atop the hill and watch the ferry sailing to and fro in it's journey from Gourock to Dunoon. And in the mornings I'd often be woken by the cry of the gulls over the river Clyde.
I now spend as much time as possible camping with my dog in the wonderful woodland of the Chiltern hills. I can't express enough how much I enjoy the peace and solitude of the woodlands that surround my home.
I always carry a recorder with me whilst camping. The acoustics in the woods are most pleasing to the ear indeed. I own several sopranos, an alto, and a sopranino recorder. My most expensive recorder to date is a Coolsma Aura Conservatorium in boxwood which comes in at around £160.
Here's a pleasant little tune ( Circa 1500 ) that I used to love playing on the sopranino, here accompanied most competently by my old friend Brainiac Fingers on guitar.
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I also like drawing things. Everything from the mundane to the fantastic. I do usually prefer drawing from my imagination, just allowing my mind free rein and my pen to take a walk across the page.
I also like to sketch not only in pen but in words. Employ wondrous mental anaphors and diectics, as best I am able, in an attempt to clothe the most quotidian in colours most glorious! I aspire to be a hurler of words! And I will hurl words into this myspace and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounds, no matter how faintly, I will send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for this life that gnaws in us all.
For anything that we do to become an adventure we must ( and this is enough ) begin to recount it in words.
A man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them, and he tries to live his own life as if he were telling a story.
But he has a choice...
Live or tell?
And tell is what most of us do. Oh most selfish meme! The most virile being almost entirely exploitative and viral in nature.
But then...memes don't exist! Tell All your friends!!
Save The Planet?!
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