A long day yesterday, across the country and back again pursuing a couple of projects which are only loosely related to music and which I hope to be able to expand upon in due course. Let’s just see how things go and then, maybe, I’ll be able to write more. In all it meant about six hours in the saddle of my trusty old Toyota Avensis, sixteen years old and still going strong having seen the Toyota F1 team come and go in that time, winless. I took the opportunity to catch up on some of my favourite albums of late, but joining Radio 3 for part of the journey.
As part of a board game sale I met a chap whose house appears to be totally overrun with wonderful box-sized gaming goodness. As I tend to panic when my collection goes over 35 or so, I cannot comprehend the mindset of somebody with nigh on 1,000 games, but that did not stop me being jealous, and we had the kind of conversation only true geeks can understand while his other half made noises in the background which implied that she felt sorry for us both.
The plan today is to continue working on the Carta Cantata, pushing ahead with sketching out as much of the framework of the piece as possible this month. As usual, other events and developments keep pushing in on the edges, but I am confident that the time is there if I just stick to my guns, and the fact that the desire is there in spades only boosts my resolution.
As I sit here and look out at my garden, quiet and dappled by the morning sun, the various plants and flowers waving in the breeze, it occurs to me that a significant chapter of my life is coming to an end. Whatever happens between now and this time next year, I do not want to be living in London at the end of 2015. It is nothing (much) personal, just that I came here with a twenty year plan in 1995 and had a ten year plan when buying my house back in 2004. As both of those coincide in the next few months, it seems only natural that my thoughts should turn to the next step. I fully intend, of course, to maintain my work here in the capital, especially my ties with organisations such as the Parliament Choir and the various churches for which I play, but, in between those bursts of work, I would like to decamp to somewhere quieter and a little more rural.
Without going into too much detail, it is fair to say that the various elements of this plan are coming into place, enough to make me confident that, by the time the 800th anniversary of the sealing of Magna Carta swings around, I’ll be just about ready to head into what I suppose will be the next stage of my life. Watching the birds feed in the garden this morning, though, is a reminder that it is not all doom and gloom in London, however much I suspect that within the next ten years it will be a little too young and bustly for an aging rocker like me.