Maria Callas on a Sunny Afternoon.

Hello out there. Where have you all gone? No one seems to be out and about in blogland the last couple of days. The ebbs and flows of writing this are so hard to explain.

Those of you who are looking you find me on a sunny spring afternoon listening to Maria Callas singing Verdi. And very good it is too. It has the feeling of the day after the night before. For reasons that defy all logic my mood took a nose dive yesterday after having lunch with Dory. I think it might be catching as she too was not at her best. The joys of depression eh?

I awoke this morning after a troubled dreaming sleep with a mild headache, an emptiness, and a rather lost feeling of what to do today. It was the same feeling when I finished writing both books. Now my academic work is finished after working so hard since February I'm rather at a loss what to do next. TV bores me, cooking is curiously flat and I'm feeling listless. I do not feel depressed, just lost.

To try to make up for this strange state I will pound a Thai curry paste after tea and making myself a fiery curry with beef. Maybe that will do the trick. Until then a little blog, some reading and the sublime notes of Callas. The sun shines and I try to chill. Let's hope for more enthusiasm for tomorrow. Then it is back to the University.

I Heard a Voice.

Old Friends, Old Friends.

"Old Friends. Old friends. Sat on a park bench like bookends, newspaper blown through the grass falls on the round toes, of the high shoes, of the old friends". A classic line from a classic album. Some of my favourite work from Simon and Garfunkel. They were burned into my madness in those old dark days. I went to the people from then today.

At Westminster Abbey after a magnificent performance of Kenneth Leighton's fiendishly difficult "Let all the World" I saw perhaps my oldest friend. John came to King's after me. He then followed me to Lancing. I was his dormitory captain when he was 8 and 33 years later we are still friends. It was so good to see him. He saw my madness, now he sees my sanity. Friends for the ages.

I wonder what we will be doing at 70 as the song suggests? Who knows? Time can take many twists and turns. But it is good to drop anchor sometimes. For but a little while I did so this afternoon.

Lunch with Dory tomorrow. No doubt she will make me laugh as she always does. I very much hope we are still friends in 33 years time. I will be dad's age then. Such a long way to go. One step at a time though, that is all any of us can manage however great or talented we are.

I Heard a Voice.

Shakespeare and St George.

Greetings on Shakespeare's birthday and St George's Day. A day for the English. In recent years the flag of St George has become somewhat controversial owing to the emergence of unsavoury right wing activists from the BNP and EDL. Well the flag belongs to all of us in a tolerant society. It will fly high during the World Cup in the summer although I suspect not for long given the lack of quality in England's football team.

Not quite sure what Shakespeare would have made of all this but that was a by gone era. His marvellous writings survive to the enrichment of the English speaking world. Happy birthday!

I too have something small to celebrate today. I have finished my MSc assignment. I still need to check each of the pieces and print them off but for all intents and purposes it is done-hurrah! Now I can relax for the rest of my holiday.

All this has had a positive impact on my mood-we're almost at +2 today. Long may it last. I will rest now for a couple of weeks after submission before working out what to do next. Assuming I pass I will have accumulated 150 of the necessary 180 credits-getting there. Then what? Maybe another book. But that can wait.

London, lunch at the Waggoners, and a restful weekend lie ahead of me. That is good news.

I Heard a Voice.

A Faustian Pact.

I'm back from my travels. The journey was trouble free, I shopped, I cooked and now it is time to blog and read. Originally I was just going to watch TV tonight. A dramatisation of Daphne Du Maurier's Jamaica Inn is playing on BBC 1 tonight. This is part 2 after a good first episode last night. Then fate intervened, it is an opera night of BBC 3.

So change of plan and Tuesday evening find me instead listening to Gounod's Faust. I'm not familiar with Gounod although I vaguely know the story of Faust selling his soul to the devil for a return to youth. Judging by what I have heard so far I assume he was contemporary of Jacques Offenbach whose music I love. Pleased so far with my choice.

Nearly 12 years have now passed since I sold my soul to the devil and started working in mental health. Yes that is how some judge my career. Others as noted before think I have wasted my life. Yet for good or ill that is what I do and I've done pretty well coming up from nothing. It hasn't brought back my youth though! Just need that next break now.

Tomorrow I aim to complete my MSc assignment. Just have to finish the PowerPoint and do the referencing. Should take a couple of hours. Then I'm free the rest of the week. I will go to London in Thursday to hear Lancing choir sing in Westminster Abbey; good to catch up with old friends. Friday I meet Dory then a final weekend before my return to work. So far so good. Until next time, I'm going back to my opera.

I Heard a Voice.

Sea Air.

Gazing out the window I can see the sea. Yes I'm back to roots visiting dad. I can't see France today, it's too gloomy. Cold too and not very inviting. Yet it is nice to get away for a couple of days. The MSc work is almost done so have awarded myself an extra day away. I will catch the train on Tuesday then see how the rest of the week pans out.

Today is the most important festival in the Christian calender, Easter Day. The day of the resurrection which is the key feature of that faith. Dad is not back from church yet. Unusual, maybe he has forgotten me. I will slow roast a shoulder of lamb for us this afternoon. I quite fancy a jaunt to a country pub whilst it cooks despite the cold.

My mood has been a little volatile this week but not too bad. I don't think I've had any minus days but not too many plus days either. Firmly rooted at 0

Time will run quickly from here on in. The NFL draft, later this year, the end of term, the long slow monotony of life without the students, a summer holiday, turning 45 and then September. It all starts again. There is a difference this year though. I have a very special event to attend on 6th September. My great friend Beka is getting married. And I am giving her away.

I Heard a Voice.

Handel, Mozart, Haydn, Ale, Sunshine and Progress!

From inauspicious beginnings today has turned out well. I woke up late and tired. I knew I had work to do but no motivation to do it. In those times though it is a must to power through the inertia, put on some great music and work. Get to 5.00 pm and the bulk of my assignment is done, I have listened to Cosi Fan Tutti, The Royal Firework Music, been to the Horns at Datchworth for an excellent pint of ale and enjoyed the sunshine. I'm now home, had tea, and am listening to Hadyn's Nelson Mass, it is sublime.

So I'm pleased with how it has gone. Only a little to do on PowerPoint and the referencing to do then I'm ready to hand in early. Can't believe it was that straightforward after all that stress. My programme lead told me back in the summer that I would not find it difficult. What she hadn't bargained for was more repeated ill health and the lack of confidence I have in my mind after so long away from studies. Someone once told me Cambridge wanted a fine and teachable mind. Whether I still have one is open to conjecture. It certainly doesn't feel like that when I grapple with this MSc. Maybe it is too many pills, pints and old age conspiring to limit a once fine mind, I don't know.

What I do know is that given what I have achieved today I will be able to enjoy my break as a holiday not an academic exercise. I have to the scope to stay an extra day in Kent and maybe even go to a special St George's Day lunch at the Horns  next week. That would be nice, an English flag for a tradition not hijacked by the fascists in the BNP and the EDL. God we would all be better off without such bigots but as I live in a democracy we have to tolerate such people in the name of freedom of speech.

I Heard a Voice.

Appearing and Disappearing Images.

Some of you looking at this might have noticed that yesterday I finally put an image of me up on here. It is on the profile. Funny about putting a face to a voice. Well that was me about 5 years ago. Beth took some shots in the courtyard of the Butt of Sherry as cover shots for the first book. I did try to put a more recent picture up but the ones I have are of such high quality as they were taken by a professional photographer that the jpeg was too big to be accepted. So that is me.

At the same time, for reasons that are not obvious the cover image of "Charon's Ferry" has mysteriously disappeared on Amazon sites around the world. I tend to look a couple of times a day as it is the only site that allows me to track sales. They have ground to a halt in the last couple of weeks. Maybe the follow up has bombed.

That was very much in my thinking last night after my very mixed day. I went the Hedgehog for a pint of Doombar and found my mood sinking. That sense of being a failure and wasting my life. There are people in Kent who think I did just that. I might have mentioned it before but when I was down at Christmas someone I know said to me "isn't it about time you got a proper job". Try telling that to my students. Yet nearly a year removed from the knife in the back I am still firmly entrenched where I was before. Will change come? I hope so but not very optimistic at the moment.

As Christians celebrate the most important festival of their calender thoughts of the future are not in the forefront of my mind. It is Good Friday so I'm listening to the music of my former life. Allegri has been played, Byrd Five Part is on and I will pick up the CD for Lotti's Crucifixus from the car after this. Study awaits this afternoon. See you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Harried Heron.

The heron was hungry at the lake today. I saw it gobble 2 small fish in less than a minute, effortlessly flying across the surface and swooping. Yet that was not the most interesting sight. That was the crow that harried its every move as it seeks its eternal stomach filling life. I guess that eggs and chicks are also on its agenda. A heron is a marvellous sight to behold. As is nature in the spring; the hunt to survive. Savagery again.

My day has been rather mixed. Every now and then the medication really gets me and I can't wake up. My friend Jackie was due round at 9.30 to do my IT training. The medication intervened though, I didn't wake up. A wasted opportunity.

Work was okay. It's now all over until a week Monday. So the holiday is here. To celebrate I thought I would pop out for a little Malaysian food. Not sure where Joey's mind was today but she got both of my dishes wrong. So no BBQ ribs or crispy prawn dumplings. Slightly peeved.

Yet tomorrow I sleep, study and prepare for Easter. I will catch the train to dad's late on Saturday morning. My return is planned for Monday to get on with my MSc write up. I am getting there. There is a marking boycott looming as the unions battle the university over pay. An improved offer has been made so the boycott has been postponed. I wonder if I will get marked and paid. That would be a bonus.

I hope to blog again tomorrow, see you all then.

I Heard a Voice.

Endless Demand, Roast Duck and Thomas Arne.

This afternoon took me away from my office to do some serious outreach work. Still touch and go but hoping we will get there. The problem is who will do it next week? I'm not here. Can anyone else do it? Depends on who one asks. What I do know is during my absence an almost endless stream of people made contact who should be seeing my more esteemed colleagues. Am I expected to do their work? I really am not a marriage guidance counsellor. Yet somehow I am supposed to fit that into one day. Can't wait for 5 pm on Thursday then it all becomes someone else's problem.

Back home I am consoling my irritated mind with the music of Thomas Arne. No I don't know him well although according to the radio he wrote "Rule Britannia". "Composer of the Week" is featuring him on Radio 3. Quite enjoying it actually.

The real joy though comes from the duck that is roasting in my oven, the potatoes soaked in marvellous duck fat bubbling away and the giblet stock which will make the gravy. I do so like it when duck is on offer. Sadly my friend John who I invited to join me has had a trip to the dentist and can no longer eat. Such a shame. So it is all for me.

Who knows what other demands tomorrow will bring? For now I don't care, I'm merely being decadent and indulgent along with a nice Chianti.

I Heard a Voice.

PS As an aside my academic papers are all now appraise so the writing up can begin-I'm back on track!

Spoke Too Soon.

Following my post on Friday morning the Friday adage was proved correct-it all kicked off. I ended up doing 4 back to back meetings including a home visit. So I was quite relieved to get home after that before setting off on my next adventure.

As noted it was a working weekend. Indeed I worked very hard and came home shattered. Whether I did any good only time will tell although the case presented to me was not as bad as I feared. It is so hard to work with people with paranoia. But being able at times to acknowledge paranoia for what it is rather than just being paranoid at least gives a basis to start working.

When I get home tonight it is on to appraise my finally academic paper. After that it is just many hours given over to writing up. For all my anxieties on this module and fear of failure-that was very real for a while-once I got my head round it it really wasn't very difficult.

I'm counting down the days until my holiday. Much of that will be given over to writing up but I'm looking forward to seeing dad. I plan to roast a leg of lamb on Easter Day even if it is just the 2 of us there. I can always make a shepherd's pie after. I do need a rest though. So the music will go on, I will shut the world out and continue my lonely journey until it is back to the chaos.

I Heard a Voice.

Unusually Quiet.

There is an old adage in mental health that if it is going to kick off it will do so on a Friday. Well we have got to Friday and so far all is quiet. The phones have not rung, no one has dropped by and the e mail traffic has been limited. Just as well really as there is only our administrator and me in today. Yes it is the holiday.

The rare peace has allowed to get on and progress on other fronts. I'm only expecting one definite visitor and one possible visitor today. So it is time to eat into the mountain of admin that seems to litter my life at times. Let us hope it remains quiet over the coming week as we really are down to the bare bones of a service. This time next week I will be on holiday.

Although it is Friday my work for the week isn't finish. I'm venturing abroad this weekend, to London today then leafy Gerrards Cross tomorrow. It is a working trip to help out some friends. In truth I rarely stop working apart from my Sunday opera day given how much external traffic occurs. When people know I have some limited expertise in the field of mental health there are often others seeking my advice. That advice is always given for free, people just don't have the money to pay for it. Sometimes it feels like I should run a clinic in my local pub once a week-it would be in demand. Others ask if I do private work. It would be nice but is not as simple as just talking to people. How I have admired the work of my Buddhist Healer friend Caroline Latham over the last 20 years but the risks she takes. But she gets results; mavericks often do.

And to the rest of today. The radio is quietly playing through my PC and I'm trying to work out what to do next before what I think will be an early lunch. Getting hungry already. There won't be any more posts now until next week-no access to cyberspace until I return home on Sunday.

Seeing the Subtitles.

As of this evening I finally have a large modern flat screen TV up and running in my little flat. I bought a small flat screen when they came out about 10 years ago. Cost a fortune, was very heavy and I could not see the subtitles or sports scores in the corner of the screen. Fast forward and finally having a little money to spare I have updated. Now I can see everything and it is so simple even I can use it. I have Champions League game on not because I'm particularly interested but because I can and at least I now know who is winning.

It has been a fairly productive day today. I did my first academic paper appraisal. Took a lot longer than I anticipated but I'm now 1 down 2 to go. By Monday at the latest I hope to have all 3 done. Then I move onto writing up. I am getting there.

On Friday I travel to London then onto Buckinghamshire the following day. Something of a working weekend but I always like to help my friends out. After that 4 more days of work then a well deserved holiday. I will visit dad for a few days. I hope to meet an old friend Ros whom I've not seen since the late 1990s. If you are reading Ros, and I know you will at some stage, can you e mail possible dates? I very much hope you're enjoying your holiday after another long term.

We will see what tomorrow brings. Whatever it is I'm counting down the days.

I Heard a Voice.

In the Mists of Time.

Back all those years ago at King's no one ever got to hear us practice privately. I suppose we never questioned it at the time but in my cynical middle age-or is it paranoid-it sometimes crosses my mind that they might have seen things they were not supposed to have seen.

There were to my recollection only 4 exceptions to this. Stephen Cleobury just before he took over in 1983, a man from the Indian subcontinent whose name I never knew, Princess Margaret, and the composer Herbert Howells. I well recall the last 2 on that list. How could one forget Princess Margaret? She was deeply religious despite her play girl image and she sat quietly in contemplation and concentration as we sang. And Howells. It was shortly before his death in 1983.

Tonight I have been revisiting the music of Howells. It is sublime stuff. I never recorded any of his music and this recording which came in the post today goes back to the 1960s. The Collegium Regale written for the choir both morning and evening services. Many years later I almost sang the tenor solo in the Nunc Dimittis in Chartres Cathedral but lacked the confidence in my floored mental state to pull it off alone. Yes that fateful trip on which the psychosis hit its highest point. And the terrifyingly hard Take Him Earth for Cherishing has also been part of my listening experience tonight.

The past seems so long ago yet so close. Do I still bear the scars? Probably. But to touch greatness even if it once in one's life is indeed a rare thing. It was collective greatness not mine alone.

All this on a day that has been all fits and starts. I don't like it when plans don't work. Tonight's plan will I hope be enacted tomorrow. For now it is that sublime music. We never reached the heights of our predecessors but we were pretty good!

I Heard a Voice.

A Dull Season Opener.

Considering today is the start of the Pimm's season it is pretty dark, gloomy, and chilly out there. Where has the sun gone? The Boat Race kicks off at 5.55 pm in anticipated rain. No rain here but not a day to be outside. That said I now have everything I need for my Pimm's and shall pour a glass or 2 after tea.

As for the rest of the day it is Puccini, choral evensong, reading, and roast beef. I have many times on here extolled the virtues of the pig. Now it is time to praise the humble cow. The French consider us a nation of beef eaters. Actually their beef is excellent and they make a distinction between boeuf and vache, the steer and the cow. We are not that sophisticated over here but it is good for a Sunday. My Yorkshire pudding mix is resting, the beef is coming to room temperature and I will shortly parboil potatoes.

The finale of "Turandot" has just echoed round my flat. I wonder what next, the radio I think in anticipation of here St Paul's cathedral choir at 3.30 pm. Not heard them for a while. Then back to the Sunday Times. More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Rare Sirloin and Forgotten Mint

In the early hours of Thursday morning I was woken by a dream. As is my wont and need to go back to sleep after I had a cigarette and had a strange thought. I had an overwhelming desire to have a rare steak at 4.30 am. Very weird. I rarely used to eat steak but having finally mastered the art of rare steak I'm eating it more often.

So my shopping expedition yielded a good sirloin steak that has aged for 30 days, I had the Pimm's, a joint of beef for tomorrow and pretty much everything I need. There was a vital omission though, I forgot the mint. Can't have Pimm's without mint so I guess I will have to drive down to Waitrose again tomorrow before the race. What a pain!

Talking of dreams they came back viciously last night. I knew I was in trouble when I woke 2 hours after I went to bed. 4 dreams later I gave up on sleep and got up. Dreams have been more limited recently but they always come back. Perhaps I should start reading the Freud book I bought on dreams.

Despite an invite to London from Izzi I had to devote the afternoon to further study. I have now read all 4 of my chosen papers. I need to reject the last paper as it is only based on a literature review. It was helpful though. All I have read so far has pointed to a need I knew was already there. For mentally ill students we need to get out there not only to treat but to educate, we need to be more flexible, and we are not necessarily using the limited resources we have more effectively. This all fits with my previous project. But it will never happen, I am simple not in a position of influence. Well at least not where I work. The Trust is a different matter.

After an evening on which my mood became increasingly flat I do feel okay today. Perhaps +1. I need more than that. Tomorrow I will open the Pimm's season and cheer Cambridge on. No need to study so perhaps a little trip out into the country before the race. Then win or lose I will do my roast beef with Yorkshire puddings and some good Rioja.

I Heard a Voice.

Boat Race Day is Coming.

Term is finally over! It is Friday, I'm home, a Thai curry has been infusing for 2 days and am on top of my studies. Must be time to relax. Much more importantly than that Sunday is Boat Race Day. And all you regulars will know what that means, the Pimm's season starts! Preparations are under-way, fruit is bought, a little Pimm's is left over from last season. Tomorrow I will get another bottle of Pimm's, lemonade and the all important mint.

Joy apart I will keep working for another 2 weeks. 2 more academic papers need to be read tomorrow. Then I must select the appraisal tools to use then it is a question of getting on and doing it. The last on-line tutorial is on Monday. I think I understand what is needed now.

Time will now no doubt fly through to September when it all starts again. By November I hope I will have my MSc. After that I suspect the job hunt starts again; so be it.

I Heard a Voice.

Pounding Away to Bruckner's 9th.

The title of this post is not intended to be an innuendo although I guess some could construe it as that. Rather is refers to the marvellously therapeutic experience of pounding ingredients for Thai curry paste in my trusty mortar and pestle. Along with my keffiyah from Petra it is one of my most prized possessions. The South East Asians did the world a great service by inventing the art of pounding curry paste. After a day on which not all went to plan, and slightly really and shaken from a near miss in my car this morning I had to do something to rescue today. I did some good work but as ever I battle to balance good and bad. Having 6 chicken thighs that will be out of date tomorrow and a can of coconut milk I retired to my great love of cooking.

And so my flat is filled with the marvellous aromas of the Thai curry bubbling away and the sounds of Bruckner's 9th symphony I edge closer to Easter. Friday is the last day of term. I'm making progress with my studies, I've listened to all the lectures and my selected academic papers are safely downloaded and printed. Tomorrow I will be on an interview panel to select a new Chairperson for HPFT-another day of being important then Friday. Wonderful Friday when I will try to forget the travails of the week gone past and head for the weekend. More study awaits but there will be cooking, shopping and hopefully a haircut in the offing. My mood teeters of being quite good barring setbacks. Oh how I struggle with setbacks.

Another term down, another to go. But it will be short, oh so short. Summer is near, I wonder what that will bring me?

I Heard a Voice.