Wednesday 6 July 2011

It starts out quickly.


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'It's all a matter of perspective' mouthed the seven-foot tall goalkeeper to the nervous penalty-kick taker, attempting to stare him out at this most critical of all moments in the ninety-something that have been on offer. And, it's also an expression I'm getting used to hearing these days, this sense of relativity and unknowing, even without that physical twelve yards necessarily being involved. Needless to say, the shoe will fit so I'll slip it on. I'm very much the person that needs to kick the ball into the less than open net. Gulp. This is a challenge. And whilst I appreciate the importance of such an act, of enacting an active agency, so to speak, this doesn't prevent that fear running through the dark spilled blood, chilling it to a slow-motion replay where the metaphorical waterfall floods are actually tiny drips and the journey stops and starts in lost and abandoned railways of the heart. And whilst I gather an inner-strength, of a kind, the soundtrack comes from somewhere otherwordly; a place where what end of the street you stand at really matters, where what you say cannot be taken back. It all begins with one solitary note on a piano. And if you can't even play that note as it should be played then why bother at all? This is not a practice session or a 'jam'. This is real life.
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Glissando - 'With a kiss and a tear' (7.06)
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Searching delicate sounds / A slow burning secret / Buying worthy Gizeh
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4 comments:

  1. Gardner Street, Partick?

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  2. No points here....I just loved the post. 'this is real life'. I LOVE that,

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  3. Thanks Tricia, that's very kind of you. I must admit though... sometimes the need to be so cryptic really does my head in. I wish I could write more freely.

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