Et Resurrexit!

Today Christians celebrate the most important festival of their calender. A day of celebration, fine music, and good food. In years gone by I spent many an Easter Day singing in the great cathedrals of Europe-Lancing always toured at Easter. That all seems so long ago. On Friday I mentioned Lotti's "Crucifixus" the moment in the creed that Jesus was crucified, dead and buried. One of the early chapters of "A Pillar of Impotence" marks that moment with the chapter title "Passus et sepultus est."

The next part of the creed comes today. "Et resurrexit tertia dies", and rose again on the 3rd day. In the great masses of Christian music that is the moment the music shifts from minor keys to major keys. Such settings are divine whether one has faith or not. The end of my first story was so unexpected and triumphant that I used those words "Et resurrexit" to mark the final chapter in my book. Arrogant perhaps but a fitting title after all those years in the underworld of mental illness.

Dad and Miriam went to church today; I did not. Not heard much music sadly but we had a magnificent Easter lunch of roast duck which Miriam cooked and we devoured. Now in the hazy brightness of a late afternoon in spring, the sun is out but it remains bitterly cold. For me time starts speeding up from Easter. "Yet a little while and I will be clean gone"-and so soon in a fleeting blink of an eye September will arrive and it is back to the cycle of my life. Am I wishing my life away? Maybe, but I have future now which for many years I didn't. I just don't know what that future holds.

I Heard a Voice.

The East Wind Blows.

Have any of you lived by the sea? If you have, are you always drawn back to it? I am. Back in Kent it has been a mix of chaos and beauty. This morning the snow came down surprisingly heavily given that it is the Easter weekend. This afternoon we have a had bright sunshine which made me scurry for my shades. It is after all Kent in late March. But what has accompanied the last few days is a bitter icy easterly wind. And when the wind blows from the east it is cold, oh so cold here. It has kept me away from my beloved sea. I hope I will make it there before I go home.

Today was a mix of planned and unplanned. I met the bipolar Lynne. Great to see her after some time apart. Yet also in the pub were some old friends, nanny Sue and grand-daughter Lola. I think the latter must be about 8 by now. And she is a most precocious child. She announced proudly that she had read my book. Not really a story for 8 year olds. Then she announced she wanted to take my book to school for the teacher to read it to her class. Definitely not a good idea. Actually she is the second child who has asked to take my book to school. I don't think it would go down well-might freak them out somewhat. Maybe when they are older.

Tonight we are off to the Hong Kong House whilst dad goes to church-he does the full complement of services at Easter. We are then meeting friends I've not seen for a while. Sadly Lola's uncle James will not be joining us as planned; he won't be leaving Surrey until tomorrow.

Time has flown by since I came down. Only 3 days to go now. Then it is back northward for a stint at home. Let's hope I'm refreshed in a week when I have to return to the university.

I Heard a Voice.

The Missing Music.

Good Friday was always fun back in the King's days. In part that was because once we had finished singing in the morning we were free for the rest of the day. Better still though was the music. Allegri's "Miserere" and Lotti's "Crucifixus" simply stunned the congregation in that mighty building. It wasn't until years later that I realised that the Lotti was but a part of larger "Credo". I have fine recording of it at home.

Since then I have carried on the tradition of listening to both pieces of music on Good Friday. Sadly not this year though-I left the CDs at home. Must rectify that failure when I get home on Tuesday.

We made it the crematorium yesterday. Sadly, although the sun continued the strong wind prevented us spreading the ashes in the sea. I guess we will do that another time. The day passed without incident and I had a splendid evening in the pub with Miriam.

Today I went out for lunch and had my hair cut. I'm getting used to my new glasses-the lens area is much smaller that on my old pair so I'm getting used to the odd sensation of moving my head rather than my eyes to see. For those who don't know me I normally wear contact lenses but it is good to take a break sometimes.

Later I will be improvising a Sri Lankan prawn curry. I made a paste earlier that smells fragrant and fiery-hope I don't blow everyone away. Tomorrow I meet with another old friend Lynne. And yes you have guessed it she has bipolar too. Us crazies must stick together.

Meetings aside I am enjoying the rest. No stress to think of which is a marked change from the last few weeks. Perhaps I will get back to my normal self if I can still find it. The last few months have made me question once again who I am and what I'm doing. Most importantly I have got through the critical February-March axis without crashing. But as the Duke of Wellington once said "it was a close run thing". Here is to staying well!

I Heard a Voice.

Sun is in the Sky!

As March heads towards history and April beckons the sun has finally broken through the gloom of recent weeks. Tomorrow is Good Friday-I will be forced to eat fish-and on Sunday it is the Boat Race. All hail the coming of the Pimm's season!

Time has flown. It was a year ago today that mum died. I am down in Kent with my dad and Miriam is here. They are off shopping and I'm trying to work out how to warm my feet up; the sun may be out but it remains cold and windy. Theoretically we will spread my mum's remaining ashes in the sea later but that depends on the continued sunshine and calm.

I am relieved to be away from work. What a term. Who knows where I will be this time next year. What I do know is that by then "Charon's Ferry" will be a reality in concrete form. People ask if I will write another book. Maybe but not yet.

My return to Hertfordshire is scheduled for next Tuesday. The following day I will go to St Albans and visit a Greek restaurant. Then on the Thursday I will head for Borough Market with the wonderful Dory; she will see the sites of "A Pillar of Impotence". Finally to rest. Well not strictly true as I will be proofing the book. There may be another post today but for now goodbye.

I Heard a Voice.

A Walk on the Dark Side.

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." So begins Haydn's masterpiece "The Creation". But he did not just create that, he created the deep as well. "And darkness was upon the face of the deep". Well for the past 4 days I have visited the deep in the company of the incomparable Mintu.

When I came home from yet another overwhelming week at work on Friday I was not sure I had the energy to spend 4 days with my friend of 33 years. I knew glimpses of his life from his e mails and what Heather had told me. I knew I would be remembering walking on the dark side and that we are very different people. Yet today I emerged invigorated.

That is it, we both walked in darkness for so long on other sides of the globe. Me through madness and Mintu through addiction. We had a lot in common. I don't know whether it was God who changed out lives. I know my dad would believe that. Mum too if she were still with us. Both of us had spiritual experiences of a Buddhist flavour. In my folly I have turned my back on that but he has not.

What really matters though is that we both got out, alive, different and well. I fear a return of my madness but I sense Mintu does not fear a return to his addiction. I hope we meet again before another 30 years elapses. I do think though that those 4 days of inspirations, talking in the way that only crazies can has helped me move away from the abyss on whose edge I have teetered for the last few desolate months.

Today I received 2 pieces of good news. Beka has completed the cover of "Charon's Ferry" and the publisher has given me an estimated timetable of 2 months until publication of the paperback. I will start a final proof when I return from dad's next week. Before then though we will experience the first anniversary of mum's death. God it has gone fast. So think of us on Thursday as we mourn our dead. It is but 1 day in a long journey. We all experience loss in our journey. Mintu and I should surely have been lost a long time ago. But we survived. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

An Omelette and 2 Paracetamol.

Many a lunchtime in my life is spent perusing the book shops. Actually after the recession few still survive but my passion remains. As you can imagine I have huge collection of cookery books. Each time I visit a shop I see and want more. But there are too few funds. One I do intend to buy though is Elizabeth David's "An Omelette and a Glass of Wine".

Today I had an omelette resplendent with bacon, coriander and gruyere cheese. Way too early for wine particularly after last night. I rarely drink cider but when cooking with it I don't like to waste it. With a chicken in cider casserole on the go I combined the cider with lager for the forbidden snakebite. This morning I recalled why I gave that up years ago. God my head! So it was paracetamol rather than wine that went with y omelette.

This afternoon with headache gone I did some cleaning in preparation for the visit of the man from beyond the sea. The snow did come down in the early hours but the roads are fine so will pick him up later this afternoon. For now though I am listening to Puccini and returning to my great look of books. Just started Jeanette Winterson, an author I have not read before.

I Heard a Voice.

PS Beka has nearly completed the cover for "Charon's Ferry"-it looks great!

A Man From Beyond the Sea.

Way back in 1980 as a 10 year old I toured Australia for the first time. I turned 11 staying in Melbourne with a woman called Heather and her son Dean. Dean's birthday was in the same week and we had a joint birthday party although he is a year older than me. In 1983 I toured again and saw Dean and Heather for a 2nd time-he was a changed man. In 1994 when I was in hospital Heather took me out for lunch and told me a little of Dean's troubles.

Tomorrow Dean or Mintu as he is now known and I will met again. He comes via cancer, addiction, mental illness, New Zealand and Germany and I come via breakdown, suicide, weed, psychosis and final redemption. It could be a long few days as we catch up. Heather died 2 years ago, my mum died almost exactly a year; I guess we have much to talk about.

I am shattered after another carnage filled week at work. Sooner or later it will overwhelm me. I was speaking to my friend Mala today. She is overwhelmed too but at least as she put it she has order in her life-her diary is set out. Mine is not, when the shit hits the fan I go shovelling shit.

Thanks God I only have 3 more working days until the break. Then is off to see dad again. That is of course if the weather lets me. Nothing here yet but we are expecting a white out tomorrow. Whatever happens I hope it does not stop me seeing the man from beyond the sea.

I Heard a Voice.