I figured since I can't sleep I'd put my time to good use and write a blog entry. It was this, or do more internet shopping, and given how much I ordered yesterday that wasn't really an option!
So the reason to be cheerful refers to me by proxy really. I've got a new job being a paid youth worker at No Limits where I currently volunteer. It's the job I've dreampt of since I started volunteering there 4 1/2 years ago, and one I've been turned down for twice before now. A question I get asked over and over from people when I tell them about my new job is "How can you work there? Don't you get sad?". The answer to that question is yes, of course sometimes I get sad, I'd be worried if I didn't. But one comment that was made to me this week sums up perfectly the feeling of why I love this job, why it makes me cheerful.... one young person (who wouldn't mind me saying there have been days when I've begun preparing myself for the idea of attending his funeral) said "Look, I found a white scar today, my first one". That may sound insignificant, or something to not get excited about to some people. But for me, it's one of the best things I could have heard. To see how far he's come in the last twelve months is amazing, he's overcome so much I couldn't begin to find the words to explain it properly.
His words are my answer. His words are my reason to be cheerful, that he's healing physically and emotionally. That is why I love my new job before I've even begun it!
Guilty Feet Have Got No Rhythm
I'm not too sure at what point it is you go from being fan to psycho stalker freak.... but yes, I am blogging once again about Southampton's finest - Jet Heeled Striker. Starting on a negative point, lads you did have us waiting some time for this gig; on a positive though, God it was worth waiting for!
It was the second time they've headlined now, and watching the number of people enter (and stay) in the Joiners last night was good to see. It was great to stand back and see how many people were there and really enjoying the music. Not just their fans, but also people who had come for the subliminal Seventh Seed who then stuck around and gave JHS a chance.
I know Chris was struggling with his throat, and talking afterwards...well I say 'talking' but I think 'croaking' is a far better description... he was clearly in some pain. It really didn't seem to affect him on stage though, his performance was as dynamic and honest as ever.
That's a description that I would use happily for the whole band though. I don't profess to know them all, so it's only a generalisation based on observation and those members that I do know; but they play and sing like they're doing it for themselves as much as for anyone else. There's no act going on, the music comes from within in a way that's exhilarating and infectious. The smiles, laughter and movements that were taking place on stage were clearly because that's where they're happy, where they feel uninhibited and confident. And that's exactly how they should be, because the music they make is something they should be proud, happy and confident of.
They tried out something new tonight, having Adam play an acoustic number in the middle of the set. I've heard him play the song before and fell in love with it then, and on stage he played it even more beautifully. It was a brave thing for them to do, but it didn't upset the balance of the gig. Loved it.
There were a couple of new songs being showcased last night which went down very well. I've said before that their songs are all individual and distinctive whilst at the same time sounding like them. Their songs are clever, they're not these ten-a-penny American punk songs that after a while become slightly indistinctive. Don't get me wrong, I am a fan of American punk, I'm a fan of pretty much any punk, but there is a general misconception that it can be mastered by any group of spotty fifteen year olds with a couple of guitars. It can't. You can tell listening to JHS that there is a lot going on in their songs, the more times you hear them, the more you hear in them. There is a subtle complexity to them that is clever. There's a very small line between being too complex and therefore pretty inaccessible, and being too simple and therefore nothing to keep you hooked. JHS have mastered that in their songwriting, both lyrically and musically. It shows their intelligence and their knowledge in all aspects of music.
Yes, their fans had to wait since July to see them, but when the music is that good, it's forgivable. Same with the album. If speeding it up would jeopardize the standard and quality of the songs, then take your time guys. I know it will be worth the wait.
On a personal comment, Ali and Becky, congratulations - you got me 'dancing' sober for the first time since I was about seven. I honestly don't know whether to love you or hate you!
It was the second time they've headlined now, and watching the number of people enter (and stay) in the Joiners last night was good to see. It was great to stand back and see how many people were there and really enjoying the music. Not just their fans, but also people who had come for the subliminal Seventh Seed who then stuck around and gave JHS a chance.
I know Chris was struggling with his throat, and talking afterwards...well I say 'talking' but I think 'croaking' is a far better description... he was clearly in some pain. It really didn't seem to affect him on stage though, his performance was as dynamic and honest as ever.
That's a description that I would use happily for the whole band though. I don't profess to know them all, so it's only a generalisation based on observation and those members that I do know; but they play and sing like they're doing it for themselves as much as for anyone else. There's no act going on, the music comes from within in a way that's exhilarating and infectious. The smiles, laughter and movements that were taking place on stage were clearly because that's where they're happy, where they feel uninhibited and confident. And that's exactly how they should be, because the music they make is something they should be proud, happy and confident of.
They tried out something new tonight, having Adam play an acoustic number in the middle of the set. I've heard him play the song before and fell in love with it then, and on stage he played it even more beautifully. It was a brave thing for them to do, but it didn't upset the balance of the gig. Loved it.
There were a couple of new songs being showcased last night which went down very well. I've said before that their songs are all individual and distinctive whilst at the same time sounding like them. Their songs are clever, they're not these ten-a-penny American punk songs that after a while become slightly indistinctive. Don't get me wrong, I am a fan of American punk, I'm a fan of pretty much any punk, but there is a general misconception that it can be mastered by any group of spotty fifteen year olds with a couple of guitars. It can't. You can tell listening to JHS that there is a lot going on in their songs, the more times you hear them, the more you hear in them. There is a subtle complexity to them that is clever. There's a very small line between being too complex and therefore pretty inaccessible, and being too simple and therefore nothing to keep you hooked. JHS have mastered that in their songwriting, both lyrically and musically. It shows their intelligence and their knowledge in all aspects of music.
Yes, their fans had to wait since July to see them, but when the music is that good, it's forgivable. Same with the album. If speeding it up would jeopardize the standard and quality of the songs, then take your time guys. I know it will be worth the wait.
On a personal comment, Ali and Becky, congratulations - you got me 'dancing' sober for the first time since I was about seven. I honestly don't know whether to love you or hate you!
I'm Your Pain When You Can't Feel
It's been 18 days since Gran died. We've had the funeral, cremation and interred the ashes. The official mourning time is now over and it's that point where you have to return to reality whether you feel ready to or not. I feel like the world continued while I was absent from it, but is for all intents and purposes exactly the same as it was 19 days ago. Only I've been away and come back entirely changed. I don't know where I quite fit in the world now. Part of my regular routine was to ring Gran every couple of weeks at least, and to visit her monthly. Despite the amount she drove me mad, I was actually very close to her. I enjoyed going up to see her; Mum used to tell me I didn't have to go with them, that Gran knew I had a busy life. I wanted to though. I wanted to spend time with her. I still want to spend time with her, I want to call her up and talk about whatever crap we used to talk about. I want to continue my routine I had 19 days ago but I can't.
She was my last living grandparent. I've been blessed with knowing them all and having a Great Gran until I was 14. Although my Grandma was alive until I was 18, she was sick for many years and Alzheimers took her long before she actually died. So Gran was the only grandparent who saw me finish school. She was the person I called first when I got my GCSEs, A-Levels, degree, diploma - any achievement really. I know peoples reaction is that I can still tell her these things, that she will be listening and watching. But that's not enough even in the same ball park is it?
I hate being jealous of friends or colleagues, but at work the other day one of the girls was talking about her Nan. I was nearly in tears with jealousy that she had a Nan left to visit. Knowing I no longer have grandparents is horrid. Of course I've thought over the years about Gran dying, but I never really realised that when she died it would mean that it meant the end of grandparents for me. It's an incredible extra layer of sadness on top of the pain and sorrow I am carrying from Gran's death.
She was my last living grandparent. I've been blessed with knowing them all and having a Great Gran until I was 14. Although my Grandma was alive until I was 18, she was sick for many years and Alzheimers took her long before she actually died. So Gran was the only grandparent who saw me finish school. She was the person I called first when I got my GCSEs, A-Levels, degree, diploma - any achievement really. I know peoples reaction is that I can still tell her these things, that she will be listening and watching. But that's not enough even in the same ball park is it?
I hate being jealous of friends or colleagues, but at work the other day one of the girls was talking about her Nan. I was nearly in tears with jealousy that she had a Nan left to visit. Knowing I no longer have grandparents is horrid. Of course I've thought over the years about Gran dying, but I never really realised that when she died it would mean that it meant the end of grandparents for me. It's an incredible extra layer of sadness on top of the pain and sorrow I am carrying from Gran's death.
Everybody Hurts, Sometime
Today has been unbelievably hard. Yesterdays relative state of numbness made me think that I was doing okay and was going to be strong and hold everyone else up instead. I eventually passed out around 2 this morning sobbing into my pillow. I woke up what felt like a hundred times between then and 8 when I gave in and got up. The first lot of tears came in the shower - I could write something symbolic about my tears and the water streaming down my face, but to be honest I couldn't care less about making it sound pretty right now. By 11.30 when I was leaving Fair Oak for Wales I'd been in tears 4 times. Totally exhausted and alone driving along the M4 wasn't much fun. For some reason as Baker Street by Gerry Rafferty came on my ipod I gave in to the tears again. Luckily I was 1/2 mile from the services so could stop rather than risking the lives of everyone around me too much. More tears driving into Pontnewydd, and many more when I pulled up outside my Grans bungalow. That was the moment I was dreading from the minute I knew she was dying - stepping into her home without her physically there but surrounded by her at the same time. If it weren't for the fact that I need to be here to help my Mum, I'd have bolted back to Fair Oak and hidden away until it was all over. My uncle and his wife came up - my uncle and my mum are very close, my Grandparents were more parents to him than his own were really so my Grans death has poleaxed him. Although it was good to see them I found myself largely tuning out what was being said and picking up random nicknack's Gran has lying around and fiddling with them instead. And crying. One point I curled up on the sofa and the pain I was in was hideous. I'd forgotten, or blocked out, that part of losing someone I love. That gut wrenching agony of crying like my heart was breaking apart and would never fit back together properly again.
I wish my sister was here with me. I need my sister to be here with me. Trouble is I can't ask her to be here because she needs to do what's right for her.
It's now 1am and I've slept about 7 hours since Friday night. I'm so tired I feel like I could sleep for days. I can't switch off though, I can't stop the thoughts and I can't handle the silence of being here in my room all alone. Nothing to distract me, nothing to fill that silence except my tears.
I wish my sister was here with me. I need my sister to be here with me. Trouble is I can't ask her to be here because she needs to do what's right for her.
It's now 1am and I've slept about 7 hours since Friday night. I'm so tired I feel like I could sleep for days. I can't switch off though, I can't stop the thoughts and I can't handle the silence of being here in my room all alone. Nothing to distract me, nothing to fill that silence except my tears.
Bread Of Heaven
I wanted to write to try and make sense of my head, but I've been staring at the screen not knowing where to begin. My Gran died last night. That's all I think I can say really. People are asking me how I am and I don't know. I don't know how I feel, what I'm thinking or what to do with myself. All I know is I'm surrounded by the most incredible friends and family who have been more kind and supportive these last 24 hours then I'll ever be able to thank them fully for.
Oil On Canvas Can Never Paint a Petal So So Delicate
I was talking to a young person in No Limits yesterday who wasn't bothered about music. I was chatting with another colleague at the time who is very into his music when this person came in and joined into our conversation. They said something along the lines of 'oh, you're talking about music, that's dull'.... they just had no interest in music at all. That's something I just can't get my head around. Music colours every part of my life. Major events are remembered through music - when I think of my lovely Grandad around the time he died I hear Meatloaf... when I'm excited about going to watch Wales in a rugby international I am surrounded in my head by the crowds singing Delilah and Bread Of Heaven.... In the same way, when I hear the songs they trigger the memory - Drinking In LA by Bran Van 3000 is me and Lynda walking drunkenly through Talybont at 3 in the morning.... Motorcycle Emptiness is the last night of my first year at uni.... the Sex Pistols version of My Way is my first kiss (I know, I'm so punk!)... Teenage Dirtbag is simply Gareth....
I couldn't describe to this young person how music makes me feel, how it's like an extension of me, it expresses what I cannot find the words or sounds for. I love that a song will appear on the radio or my ipod that takes me somewhere or makes me feel something unexpected. On the way to work today my ipod was on random and it played Ring Of Fire. I was straight back to going to see Jet Heeled Striker: of the way their playing makes me feel and of the hope I have for them to succeed and survive in such a turbulent industry.
For me oil on canvas can really never paint a petal so so delicate as a beautiful song can.
I couldn't describe to this young person how music makes me feel, how it's like an extension of me, it expresses what I cannot find the words or sounds for. I love that a song will appear on the radio or my ipod that takes me somewhere or makes me feel something unexpected. On the way to work today my ipod was on random and it played Ring Of Fire. I was straight back to going to see Jet Heeled Striker: of the way their playing makes me feel and of the hope I have for them to succeed and survive in such a turbulent industry.
For me oil on canvas can really never paint a petal so so delicate as a beautiful song can.
Somewhere, Between The Sacred Silence And Sleep, Disorder, Disorder, Disorder
Do you ever wish you could just make your thoughts shut the fuck up? Today is one of those days. My mind has been racing since I woke up and nothing seems to drown it out or make it stop... I've tried music, TV, chattering with people and nothing. Seriously beginning to think the only solution is starting at one end of my table full of alcohol and working my way to the other. To drink myself so obliterated that I don't even remember my own name, let alone be able to think about things. Knowing my luck though, like cockroaches after a chemical war, my thoughts would still be live and well.
Mostly I'm thinking about Gran. Every month seems to bring a new problem or issue with her. The most recent thing being she's fallen again causing damage to her foot and a deep wound on her leg that's now got infected. Last night she told me the morning after she did it she had to crawl down the corridor to the bathroom because she couldn't walk. An 87 year old lady on her hands and knees. It broke my heart. I feel so guilty that I'm down here and she's in Wales all alone. What scares me is that I know there's only one route that all this can go. Now when I see her my immediate thought isn't that I'm looking at Gran, it's that I'm looking at a frail old lady. I hate this and I'm powerless to change anything.
Mostly I'm thinking about Gran. Every month seems to bring a new problem or issue with her. The most recent thing being she's fallen again causing damage to her foot and a deep wound on her leg that's now got infected. Last night she told me the morning after she did it she had to crawl down the corridor to the bathroom because she couldn't walk. An 87 year old lady on her hands and knees. It broke my heart. I feel so guilty that I'm down here and she's in Wales all alone. What scares me is that I know there's only one route that all this can go. Now when I see her my immediate thought isn't that I'm looking at Gran, it's that I'm looking at a frail old lady. I hate this and I'm powerless to change anything.
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