Category: Music

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Walking To Ardbeg With The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, Words From A Whirlpool, Scattered Cows And Sheep, And Egill Skallagrímsson’s Drinking Toast.

Four mile trip from Port Ellen to Ardbeg distillery.  We’re walking from our cottage northwest of the town, so add another half mile.  We start in pastureland bordered by conifer plantations. Sheep graze outside the window in the morning, and further on cattle graze and gaze. Smell of pine resin, manure and sea salt as … Continue reading Walking To Ardbeg With The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, Words From A Whirlpool, Scattered Cows And Sheep, And Egill Skallagrímsson’s Drinking Toast.

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A Drinking Man Arrives On Islay, Has A Pour Of Lagavulin, Watches Sea and Stone, Looks At A Thistle And Listens To Robert Fripp’s “Abandonment To Divine Providence.”

Water, grass, thistle and stones.  Rocks.  Arriving on Islay means close quarters with quartzite, limestone, slate and shale with many cresting intrusions called sills of metamorphic rock abundant through the southeastern part the island known as Kildalton.  As Andrew Jefford writes (and I’ll return to his wonderful prose often from Peat Smoke And Spirit) . … Continue reading A Drinking Man Arrives On Islay, Has A Pour Of Lagavulin, Watches Sea and Stone, Looks At A Thistle And Listens To Robert Fripp’s “Abandonment To Divine Providence.”

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Ramen Noodles In Their Rameny World With Plenty Of Noodleynishnishness And All Flora And Fauna Swimming In Their Brothy Waters.

Noodles, noodles, noodles.  Ramen noodles.  Food additives, sodium, saturated fat.  No, not the healthiest nor tastiest choice on its own.  Soba noodles.  But I love the texture, the very noodleynishnish of ramen.  Broth, broth, broth.  Solids and liquids calling out for further architecture.  China to Japan to the rest of the world.  And then?  Well, then … Continue reading Ramen Noodles In Their Rameny World With Plenty Of Noodleynishnishness And All Flora And Fauna Swimming In Their Brothy Waters.

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My Life With Eggs Since The Beginning Of The Year. And A Walrus.

Like a golden eye slowly cooking in a sea of red.  Yolk and whites slowly beginning to bubble in a paprika-rich goulash.  Think Sauron.  Think an Eye of Sauron Yule Log.  For five hours. Eventually the egg cooks and rests in a bowl of peppery goodness grounded with a chicken stock.  Think of the beginning … Continue reading My Life With Eggs Since The Beginning Of The Year. And A Walrus.

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Night Of A Red Right Hand / First Postcard.

I take the long way to the Cirkus Arena.  Walking from Slussen across Slussenområdet with its bridges rising over locks between Lake Mälaren and the Baltic Sea, and further towards the Stockholm Cathedral, Riddarholm Church and Baroque orange and yellow facades greeting me as I descend into Gamla Stan, stepping cobblestone to cobblestone in black patent leather shoes, past ornate … Continue reading Night Of A Red Right Hand / First Postcard.

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A Conversation With Nick Cave In Stockholm. Raise Your Red Right Hand!

Tonight I’m going to attend a conversation with Nick Cave at the Cirkus Arena in Stockholm.  Well, me and hundreds of others. Läktare höger, row 6, seat 636.  Sixth row in the balcony to the right for a conversation.  What will we talk about?  Muddy-river preachers singing doom, while a woman in blue stockings walks … Continue reading A Conversation With Nick Cave In Stockholm. Raise Your Red Right Hand!

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Remembering Harvey / Chapter Two / Pulled Pork And Gin.

Storm coming.  Storms having come.  We made the decision not to leave the house, not to pull out on the highway in my 2003 Chevrolet Cavalier loaded with ourselves and the cats.  I strapped myself to the iron fence like Ahab lashed to the great whale.  Catastrophe in the air.  What would the night bring?  … Continue reading Remembering Harvey / Chapter Two / Pulled Pork And Gin.

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Cherry Blossoms At Kungsträdgården With Tulips, Blueberry Tarts, Cognac And Coffee And The Art Of Fugue.

Blooming.  They’re out.  A glorious walk through the King’s Garden in Stockholm to view the Cherry Blossoms.  From a a fifteenth century royal kitchen garden to an open space for military drilling in the nineteenth century to pavilions with cafés in the twenty-first century, the Kungsträdgården features Cherry Blossom trees blooming and signaling the beginning … Continue reading Cherry Blossoms At Kungsträdgården With Tulips, Blueberry Tarts, Cognac And Coffee And The Art Of Fugue.

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A Walk After Goulash With Brillat-Savarin, Blackpink, Walt Whitman And Tomas Tranströmer.

After a meal, a walk helps aid digestion, at least, that’s what I’ve been told repeatingly, and as Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin writes, ‘Man lives not on what he eats, but on what he digests,’ says an old proverb.  We must therefore digest to live: rich and poor, king and shepherd are equal in the face of … Continue reading A Walk After Goulash With Brillat-Savarin, Blackpink, Walt Whitman And Tomas Tranströmer.

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Spring Lamb With Roasted Vegetables, Agnus Dei, William Blake, the Tenebrae Choir, Broadway And Seventeen Years Of Therapy.

Spring lamb.  First born and first kill.  Three to five months old and now on our table, well one of its legs.  An offering for new growth and warmer days.  Flesh and sign of a flayed god and his ascendance into blue skies.  Once upon a time a celebration at the end of fasting. The … Continue reading Spring Lamb With Roasted Vegetables, Agnus Dei, William Blake, the Tenebrae Choir, Broadway And Seventeen Years Of Therapy.