I’ve taken heart from two independent events today.
The first was reading software developer Jonathan Beckett’s blog about how he thinks blogging is back.
Beckett is a brilliant blogger. Observational. Warm. Succinct. Consistent. Regular. Old School.
Apologies to him for what follows. It’s basically me aping his style.
I vaguely remember a moment in time when he said he wasn’t going to blog anymore. I felt a pang of demotivation when I read that.
I’m pleased to discover he’s returned to it to it again. It’s invigorated me in my own practice – focussing on writing for oneself rather than trying to satisfy others. That’s the only thing you can do as a writer: write for yourself. Anything that arises, as a result, is a bonus.
The second was meeting up with cellist Sophie Webber. We sat down to record a podcast in nearby Blackheath. She bought me crepe monsieur which I reluctantly allowed her to pay for. She was terribly complimentary about my blogging.
She also turned out to be one of only a handful of podcast contributors who understood how to conduct a conversation rather than performing the role of interviewee. It’s so very important to me that, from time to time, that spirit of peer-to-peer conversation is conveyed in the podcast. I’m not going to spell out why here, otherwise some radio producer working for a broadcasting organisation will nick the idea and pass it off as their own.
I’ve listened to some of the podcast back – the first 15 minutes. The levels are the worst I’ve ever recorded at, but the spirit of the moment is conveyed (there are even emergency vehicles screaming past from time to time). Even so, there’s little to fiddle with in terms of editing. Should go out later this week. Very much looking forward to putting it out. There are lovely pictures to accompany it.
As I write, I’m listening to Martin Halvorsen’s Well-Prepared Piano Volume One via Bandcamp. It is a fascinating experiment, bringing together the wonders of John Cage’s imagination with the wonders of Bach’s Well-Tempered Klavier.
It is a joy to listen to. Boyish. Childlike. Lego-like. His various alterations to the piano sound seem to bring out the essence of each piece, amplifying each’s defining characteristics to a near grotesque levels. It’s like going on holiday to another country and visiting a groovy museum on a rainy Sunday afternoon when everything else is closed.
Will write about it in the next few days. I just need to catch up on some work-related stuff. Because, finally after nearly a week, the flu has disappeared. I can’t tell you how lovely the sense of relief is to be able to confidently say that.