where art collides philosoperontap

15 June 2022

A good time to dilute

Filed under: thoughts — Trefor Davies @ 8:45 pm

That moment when you realise you need to cull your t shirt collection. There are, I’m sure, many at the bottom of the pile that never get worn. It is time. Time they saw the light, momentarily. Fleetingly.

This is not a high priority job and should be reserved for a rainy day when I’ve run out of other things to do and feel sufficiently motivated to get on and do it. It ranks below spraying the shed with its annual coat of preservative and certainly behind the tidying up of the garage bench, which naturally happens when you realise that you can’t find anything anymore.

Today is a lovely sunny day. It has that fresh smell of early summer and the sense that the birds have full bellies after their early worms and are now sitting contentedly on the branches adjacent to their nests chatting to their neighbours.

Cleared some of the jobs off my list although not told Anne I’ve sorted the ebike insurance – she might read this and find out 🙂 Sbeen a v chilled afternoon. A perfect summer’s day really. Shed doors wide open. Shorts t shirt (one of many as you know) and flip flops.

Cleared more ivy from the border near the shed and was followed around by a robin who basically filled his boots behind me. Lots of tasty looking grubs, if you’re a robin. Seems to be a theme today. Avian eating.

Robins don’t wear boots obvs but it felt like a suitable expression for the moment.

As I sit now, in the shed, watching Tombstone on DisneyPlus without the sound, the birds are hitting evensong. I assume that’s what they call it. It is evening and they are in song. Nothing religious about it. Snature.

It is approaching 8pm. The shed doors are still wide open. The tall grasses growing in front of the deck, heavy with seed, are moving gently. Not swaying, just moving. Gently. Fluttering. That’s a better way of putting it. Perceptibly.

Cleared the deck. Layered with detritus but no more. It was. Dead leaves, seed cases, duty discharged. New hope. Stiff brush the job.

Outside, the swoosh of the hosepipe prevails. Thirsty plants draw deep. A good time to dilute.

2 June 2022

panorama

Filed under: poems — Trefor Davies @ 8:19 pm

The farm panorama. Bird talks to bird. Milking noises off. River ripples, slides past stone beach. Beetle sized cars scurry along hedge-hidden road. Cardboard cut hills provide backdrop. Woodland and fields.

for Chris Conder

28 May 2022

the art of being

Filed under: ideas — Trefor Davies @ 11:14 am

05.45. Couple of vapour trails cross the clear blue sky, destination unknown.  London probs. 

At this time of the morning I assume they are at the end of a long flight. Cabin crew will be clearing away after what claims to have been breakfast and the skipper will have nudged the passengers into last minute preparations before they all have to belt up for landing. A queue appears outside the toilets.

On terra firma pesky woodpigeons whoop and a fearless robin lands on the bench outside the conservatory.

I am awake.

It was light well before 5am this morning. I recall not the specific time of the observation but I was momentarily awake before drifting back for perhaps another half hour’s nod. A fine day in prospect. A good day to shut out the wider world and enjoy being.

The art of being. The act of being. Wonderful being. Sipping a cup of tea. Sitting in a chair listening to birdsong. Smelling the morning. The closed piano, waiting for the right moment. The clock on the wall, two minutes fast. Never noticed that before. It isn’t really there to tell the time anyway. It looks nice in a useful space above the piano. Beating time. Metronome for life.

Now that I’ve noticed the clock I can hear it tick. Never heard that before.Traffic on the road in front of the house. Where are people off to at this time of day? I specifically want to know. Early voices coming from next door’s garden. I assume. Early, like I said, but what is early?

I may never again not notice the clock ticking. Interesting that. I may never again stay at the hotel on the beach in Venice. What’s that all about? Straying to the philosophical here.

Our lemon tree has many flowers. This is the first time I have noticed. It’s a small bush not a tree. It will never be a tree, trapped as it is in its terracotta pot devoid of any nutrition and only occasionally watered.

The glass panelled door to the living room is half open. The way I left it. There is a lot to take in. There are millions of blades of grass in our back garden alone, let alone on the whole planet.

Six neatly ordered chairs around a table cloth of green. The flowers outside the conservatory are motionless but a light breeze shakes the leaves at the top of the sycamore tree. When did the leaves appear?

The art of being.

24 May 2022

A love poem for Shannon and Michael

Filed under: poems,poetry — Trefor Davies @ 2:31 pm

On a sunny May day, a big day
the knot splicers rock up and, 
in front of a gallery, friends and relations,
admirers, demonstrate their commitment
to unity.

Corks pop and glasses ring out,
excited faces beam happy cheers,
a thrilled and timeless love dance  
forever in tune.

19 May 2022

eurostar

Filed under: diary,poems — Trefor Davies @ 11:16 am

sat in the eurostar departure lounge. the checkin process was easy as being nearly two hours early there was nobody else there. debated whether to upgrade to business premier so that I could use the lounge but they don’t do that any more apaz. the decision was always going to depend on how much they wanted to charge me anyway but they took that problem away. 

I found a table to sit at so it isn’t a massive biggie but the main issue now is that as the departure lounge fills up every bugger is on their phone and the internet bandwidth has dwindled from v low to non existent.

I’m in two minds about eurostar. The actual on train experience itself is fine apart from the fact that you are mostly offline. it’s the flexibility of tickets that is constraining plus the horrendous queues and taking an hour to get through security at St Pancras.

Enough of this negativity. I’m treating meself to a few glasses of wine on the train, unless they have cold beer.

On the train and settling in. Somehow found myself in the window seat on a table for four. How did that happen?

jeremy from yara

there are only 3 of us in this carriage. My laptop is picking up 3 wifi networks. LNER, Charlotte’s iPhone and one called Bollocks to Brexit. I now know the name of the woman sat at the table in front of me although I can’t see an iPhone.

The LNER one is too difficult to log onto and I always just use my own phone’s hotspot. Bollocks to Brexit it is then 🙂

Charlotte’s phone has disappeared. I suspect she was one of the crew changing at Grantham. Someone needs to tell her not to broadcast her hotspot. In fact why leave it on?

Relaxed start to the weekend. They ain’t always like this. Last weekend we were deep in preparation for a big birthday party. This weekend it is Shannon and Michael’s wedding but no rushing around doing last minute things for that and more specifically no rearranging the PA spec for the conference in Antwerp during the week.

Tomorrow we head to the south west for a balloon flight. The gentlest of flights is not a racing certainty. This morning’s departure from Victoria Park in Bath has been cancelled due to winds fractionally over the limit. The weather forecast for tomorrow looks no different to me. The slight nuisance is that we won’t get the go/no go decision until 3pm for a 6pm takeoff by which time we will be practically there. Hey…

Not written much over the past week due to a full on time in Belgium. The out of office sign went up on Thursday and will be taken down on Wednesday. I had toyed with the idea of a night in London on Wednesday night as it straddled two meetings but I’ve kicked the first into touch, influenced by the fact that I just realised there is a scouts committee meeting on the wednesday night.

We haven’t had a committee meeting since pre pandemic times. Remember those days? Mary Hopkin will be getting her geetar out and start strumming again. You need to be a certain age to get that one. Google her.

Waking up from the deep hibernation that has been the last two years the world seems totally different. Flares are no longer in fashion! A tank of fuel costs more than a mortgage payment. Baby you can drive my house. The world is at war. I shudder to think what a pint of beer costs. I rarely look 🙂

Life has been very hectic and will continue to be so until the end of June at which point the calendar suggests we throttle back and enjoy some lazy afternoons in the back garden. I know it won’t be like that but we can but dream. It’s all about striking a balance innit.

The back garden in the spring of 2022

On an idyllic morning the birds sing

Songs that have not changed 

Since tunes began.

A careless, plentiful age, masked

By the long shadows of our troubled times.

10 May 2022

aShort walk

Filed under: poems,poetry — Trefor Davies @ 4:57 pm

Ashort walk 

in Caernarfon

Isall ittakes

Bought some 

Welsh cakes

Anda book

Butno spices

Now back

Back now

In room

Room in

in Caernarfon

20 February 2022

the lost bag

Filed under: poetry — Trefor Davies @ 3:58 pm

the lost bag
was there and then not
now disappeared
into a morass of bags
waiting to be found
by a baggage engineer
with scanner

I see a person 
with yellow hi-viz top
swimming in a lake
of orphan bags 
calling out the barcode
awaiting a faint response

“I’m here
here I am
please rescue me”
a lamb’s bleat
when called by its mother

19 February 2022

Ravages of Eunice

Filed under: poetry — Trefor Davies @ 1:55 pm

surreal circumstances but 

spirits not subdued

sat in a crate 

waiting for the command 

to flap

wait for it

wait for it

flap now

follow that sun

the ravages of Eunice

The shudder of gusts

better no beer 

for best results

Eunice pummels

stormy relationship

there’s no sun up in the sky

fixing a hole where the rain gets in

22 January 2022

eternal silence

Filed under: poems,poetry — Trefor Davies @ 7:36 am

15 January 2022

The short lived 5am debate

Filed under: fusion — Trefor Davies @ 10:46 am

I daresay most of you will only devote a contemptuous millisecond to my anguish at 5am this morning when I glanced at my bedside alarm clock and noted the time. Anguish doesn’t really properly reflect today’s early morning emotions. All I did was clock the time and conduct a very short lived debate with myself regarding whether I should get up and head downstairs to do something useful or sit it out (lie it out) and assume that I would get back to sleep until the display showed a more sensible time for a Saturday morning.

The debate didn’t really involve me presenting two arguments and weighing one up against the other. I was simply thinking that it was early, it was bloody cold out and the heating wasn’t due to come on for ages yet and I was very cosy in bed. Although each incident in the debate was very short lived I know it went on, and off, for a good thirty minutes because the last time I remember seeing was five thirty.

The next time I looked the clock said six thirty and I knew that staying in bed had been the right decision. At six forty five I got up, went downstairs to make the tea and was safely back in bed by five to seven.

Now up I have breakfasted well on ham, eggs, tomaytoes and mushrooms washed down with a couple of mugs of char. Mixing my vernacular there but this is allowed. Good phrase that: to mix the vernacular. Truth is to call bacon ham is only borderline vernacular and entirely dependent on your viewpoint. Also tomaytoes is merely adding an accent to tomahtoes that suggests the author is either well travelled or watches too much junk TV. I’ll leave that to you to decide. Both could apply.

13 January 2022

shred that sheet

Filed under: fusion — Trefor Davies @ 10:45 am

I woke up this morning and said to myself “made it through another night”. I sometimes think this. The whole pandemic sitch together with the ageing process makes you look at life differently. At 60 I am an orphan. Fortunately I have a great support structure around me. A very patient wife and 4 kids who still talk to me.

Yesterday we had a nice day out in Louth. Well not a whole day out. Louth ain’t that big but we had a nice stroll and had nice lunch in a nice caff. I also bought some books off a market stall.

Upon arriving in Louth the first thing we did after parking was have a coffee in a different caff to the nice one we ended in for the nice lunch. It too was nice. A couple plonked down at the table next to us and once settled she asked him what day it was. He responded that it was Wednesday and that she had asked him that yesterday. I pointed out that yesterday it was Tuesday not Wednesday. 

This caused general mirth in the cafe – it was a small cafe. There also followed a debate about how nobody could ever remember what it was, including the waitress who had apparently turned up for work the previous day thinking it was a Wednesday.

Today, as the astute amongst you will have gleaned, is a Thursday. There was evidence of an early frost as I walked to the shed although it felt almost springlike. Working day today! No rush though. I do feel that a fourth cup of tea might be appropriate but I’d have to go back to the house to source and it won’t do me any harm to delay a little.

The news is I have deferred my jury service to August. It suddenly clashed with a dinner I want to go to in London. The process was simple enough although I had to listen to 3 ½ minute of messages and options beforeI made it through to a person. I remember this from the last time I called as this time like then the voicemail message we one person but it was someone different telling me that my phone call would be recorded. Why couldn’t the same bloke have recorded both bits.

When I eventually got through the person didn’t want to waste time chatting. She had a job to do. She didn’t say that in so many words but you could tell 🙂 I could choose anytime in the next twelve months for the deferral so I went for a quiet time when I knew we wouldn’t be away. I say quiet time but actually August is busy for those of us in the campervan rental game but because of that I knew we would defo be in Lincoln.

Funny how people are different innit. A person who didn’t want to waste time chatting is fine to answer the phone for someone trying to defer jury service but would be no use working in a shop where staff might reasonably be expected to be friendly and chatty. Oh go on then yes I will buy that jumper. Or paper shredder.

My paper shredder is out on a van for delivery and arrives sometime today. Fwiw. Bought online not in a shop so no chatty sales assistant. It’s the solution to piles of papers building up in carrier bags in da shed. A fun time to be had. I bought one with a largeish capacity so that I didn’t have to keep emptying it. It will still sit compactly in the corner next to my desk though. Shred that sheet!

6 January 2022

tis evening

Filed under: thoughts — Trefor Davies @ 8:51 am

Tis evening. Outside, the temperature has dropped below zero and all sensible beings have kept to their lairs. It is not a night to be abroad. For some it is their first winter. For many it will be their last. Struggle’s end. A frozen lifeless body. No time to mourn. Survival.

19 November 2021

Machester to Lincoln

Filed under: fusion — Trefor Davies @ 8:23 pm

Long old haul back to Lincoln from Manchester really. Quite a full train, not helped I guess by the cancellation of the earlier one. What’s going on on the train network! Some people (yooves) stood up although there are some empty seats. Maybe they are getting off at Stockport which is only a couple of minutes out of Manchester Piccadilly. My bag is on the seat next to me. I will move it if required but the guard said that there is plenty of room in the front three coaches so if people haven’t got the gumption to follow his advice that’s their lookout.

Wearing my Bose phones and am in the zone. Band on the Run. We are in the foothills of the Pennines if such they are. Connectivity is pants. Sheep don’t use the internet. I guess. Weak winter sun shining onto the hills in patches. Horse running along the edge of a field. Running to see the train perhaps. Life in a field must be a bit tedious.

Might drive next time.

We have entered a tunnel. There must be a mountain overhead. A hill anyway. Emerging into the sunlight we are in a valley. Quite picturesque. I wouldn’t fancy climbing the hills right now. It will be dark soon and I have a beer in my hand.

You sense the road to Sheffield takes a different route to the train. The high road.

Passed a small farmhouse on the steep side of the valley. I noticed it after I spotted the stone barn. Not an easy living I imagine.

Now on the delayed 16.38 out of Sheffield calling at all stops to Lincoln Central. Takes 74 mins or so normally. The driver arrived with two minutes to spare but the cheery guard showed up a few minutes late. We were all kept champing at the bit on the platform.

Called two taxi firms in Lincoln to pick me up from the stayshun. Earliest availability was 7.30pm whereas I get in at 6! Hmm. Might have to stick my thumb out.

7 November 2021

Dear Santa

Filed under: fusion — Trefor Davies @ 3:42 pm

Dear Santa,

I realise that Christmas is still a way off but I thought it worth getting a letter across to you early this year in case you are having logistics problems in the warehouse. Elven driver shortages and so on.

My request this year is in my mind fairly simple but I have no idea how much back office work it might involve at your end. It isn’t quite as simple as wanting a few pairs of socks which might actually be affected by the global container shortage. The concept however is easy enough to get your brain around.

All I want for Christmas is world peace, climate change reversal and to know in advance which horse is going to win next year’s Grand National. This is a winning combination. World peace would mean the freedom to travel anywhere without having to worry about local wars, insurrections, piracy (presumably) and border restrictions. Climate change reversal would mean we could enjoy the wonders of our planet wherever we ended up going and winning the Grand National would mean we could do it all in comfort and style. Like I said, simples.

The camel train to Iraq might prove to be a little uncomfortable. We would have to make sure there were plenty of cushions and carpets to go around. The idea of diving amongst the resuscitated coral reefs in the South Seas is very appealing. Easily reachable from the jetty near the villa in the gardens of the hotel, natch.

I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. Being a man of the people my request for presents is, except for the Grand National bit, for us all so feel free to come up with your own ways of enjoying them. Iraq would face a shortage of camels if everyone wanted to do the same thing. 

As far as the Grand National is concerned if we all bet on the same horse the odds would disappear so I’ll keep that present to myself thank you very much. After all it isn’t unreasonable that everyone gets something personal that is just for them.

Anyway whatever you want for Christmas the big day will come quickly enough so I’d advise getting that letter sent. Just be sensible in what you ask for. If you ask for too much you might end up not getting anything. And remember there is a shortage of truck drivers, food, rubbish toys that looked great on the telly but will only get played with once, CO2, chefs, carers, bar staff, fruit pickers, oh and common sense.

Tref (I’ve been good all year) Davies.

xxx

PS Hope you don’t mind that kiss kiss kiss ending. Not trying to send any signals here. Just rolled off the keyboard.

PPS Can you bung some socks in as well please.

don’t be blue

Filed under: thoughts — Trefor Davies @ 10:11 am

It was long since ordained that Sunday mornings should be a time of rest. Relaxation. With that in mind I tuned the sonos in the living room to Classic FM only to discover I had arrived in the middle of an ad break. For KFC! Did I hear that right? Fortunately calm has now been restored and I am listening to a bit of Dvorak. Aahhh.

There is a small espresso at my side, fresh off the stovetop and I have time ahead of me to indulge in the required restorative inactivity.

My use of the “Living Room” Sonos speaker was not straightforward this morning. Not compatible with the relaxation it was meant to facilitate. Turns out the Sonos S1 Controller on my macbook needs upgrading to S2. However the upgrade button doesn’t appear to work. I had to resort to using my phone which is fine but it isn’t really acceptable that the laptop version doesn’t work. 

Further investigation has revealed that Sonos don’t have a Mac version of the S2. Hmm.

All appears to be well in the Davies world. I’m not taking into consideration any “external to the bubble” factors here: global warming, a corrupt/inept political elite, food shortages etc. Two of us are up and at it with the third still sleeping off last night’s rum tasting evening at the cricket club. sfine.

In the news this morning is the death at the age of 64 of UB 40 singer Astro. People come and people go and after the flurry of interest has faded away he will fade from our memories but for the moment we think of him, and his family. The issue for me is that he was only 64. Time was, admittedly when I was so much younger than today, 64 was a long way off and not an unusual age at which to die. Now with only a month to go to the big one (oh no six oh!) it is quite a sobering thought.

It makes sorting out your life plan all the more urgent. Mine includes focussing on just doing stuff I enjoy. This means no stressful work and a concentration on creative projects. Easy really. This Christmas will be a watershed.

I’m quite looking forward to my 60th birthday. I really enjoyed my 50th which felt more like what 40 was supposed to be. I have a couple of big parties planned, one, trefbash60,  in London at the usual venue and the other at home in Lincoln. If you are coming to either I really look forward to seeing you. 

It’s the first time the date for trefbash has coincided with my actual birthday. It’s a terrific gig and I typically only remember who was there because we have a photographer which this year is going to be Paul Clarke again. The theme is Pirates of the Caribbean. Better start thinking about your outfit.

Outside, a colour laden washing line sways gently in the breeze. Important to have colour in your life. Don’t be blue or grey. The exception to this is my friend Martin Levy who carries grey very well. Only wearing grey makes choosing his wardrobe easy and his outlook is far from grey.

I am pondering a change in direction with my shirts and jackets. This isn’t one to rush into but I feel a simpler style might be in the offing. We shall see. It may be that the shirts and jackets I seek may not be available in the shops which is not that much different to half the ones I already have so maybe that doesn’t matter. You will find out when I find out.

In the meantime there are pictures to put up and garlic to be planted. It is Sunday morning after all. A time to get the jobs done 🙂

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