Time Machine Wanted.

I would give my major organs for it to be the 1960s again.

A Day.

I really do love my life. My life, and Fleetwood Mac.

I realised this today, and it almost came to me as a simultaneous epiphany as I sat on a grassy knoll surveying the vast expanse of Bristol before me. Sure, one can consider that their life is wonderful on any number of occasions, and so they should. However, what made today so beautiful for me was that, by all intents and purposes; it was a right shitter. Without going into detail, I’d had about as much ill fortune and been faced with as much pointless paperwork as one could possibly handle, all before the clock stroked 11am. A tedious and stubborn illness which I have been pleading to leave my body for days, also had me scrabbling around on the scorching tarmac at one point, in a keen desperation, pleading that I should not faint or vomit in front of the pupils of a school at which I hope to work.

                
Not a great start admittedly. But, it served its purpose. I owe this morning a lot, for this afternoon, the memory of its ugly character allowed me to fully wallow in the glory that one is indeed, responsible for their own happiness – a happiness best served on a plate of simplicity. I found mine this afternoon, in a sunny park, accompanied by the soundtrack of Fleetwood Mac’s 80s masterpiece ‘Tango In The Night’. An album so powerful, that it inspired me to write a blog. When people think of Fleetwood Mac, they undoubtedly think of ‘Rumours’, copious amounts of cocaine consumption, incestuous affairs where every band member sleeps with every band member, and… Steve Nicks (perhaps concurrently). Despite being dismissed by critics as the product of an era where not even the cool people were cool anymore (Pink Floyd’s ‘Learning To Fly’ anyone?) ‘Tango in the Night’ has some of the happiest songs that take me to the crux of musical glee, and today this is something that I certainly felt the full effect of as I peacefully existed under the blue sky, with nothing else but a willingness to enjoy that moment. I suggest you listen to it too, perhaps it will take you there.

             
So, to end my opening blog – I feel I have sampled an appetizer for which the claws of addiction I can already feel clambering at my fingers and thoughts. I shall whittle on here about things, hopefully with some sort of musical inclination, possibly not. The underlying theme will always be in the joy of writing.

Also, on the subject of all things bright and beautiful, I would like to add that Alison Mosshart is the most magical and hypnotic female creature on the planet in the music industry right now. Marvel in her splendour: