Bryan Murphy's Blog, page 13
November 15, 2012
China 2012
Used to Guizhou behaviour, I rarely feel stared at here, but Q does, and she does not like it at all. As a mixed-race couple, I feel we get gawped at just as much back home in England or Italy.
Hawking and spitting have also become rare. As have children with split trousers that facilitate street toileting, though we do encounter one pile of human shit.
Hawking and spitting have also become rare. As have children with split trousers that facilitate street toileting, though we do encounter one pile of human shit.
November 11, 2012
China 2012
With all the building work going on, the crane should be China’s national bird.
In hospitals, the nurses have to pay a lot of attention to making sure the patients don’t get bed sores. One says to a hard-working nurse: “You may not recognise our faces, but I bet you recognise our arses.”
Q notes that no longer is a specific fashion followed by everyone. Individuals are starting to cultivate their own “look”.
In hospitals, the nurses have to pay a lot of attention to making sure the patients don’t get bed sores. One says to a hard-working nurse: “You may not recognise our faces, but I bet you recognise our arses.”
Q notes that no longer is a specific fashion followed by everyone. Individuals are starting to cultivate their own “look”.
November 10, 2012
Back to the future
I'm re-writing a story of the future I drafted some 30 years ago, then forgot. An old friend brought the manuscript over from England recently. The title is "Cod's Roe". The idea seems good, but the style pedestrian. However, as I type it up, hoping to reinvigorate it as I go along, I'm not changing very much: mostly from past tense to present. Appropriate, huh?
November 9, 2012
From Pyrokinection
Mazunte Jazz Hurts
The guitar awakens to Hamish's tuning touch.
Hamish the outsider: youngster, beanpole, foreigner.
Mazunte’s air is heavy with coastal flowers and Dolores.
He knows she is there.
#1
Hamish disburses his allotted notes,
thrills to the skill of the tenor sax beside him,
follows his bandleader’s instructions to stick to the score.
#2
Hamish glimpses Dolores. Has she changed?
Hair bleached to a lighter charcoal,
self-composed, at ease in town clothes,
she slips beyond his vision.
#3.
Hamish's notes slide into urgency,
playing for Dolores,
calling her to his orbit.
#4
Hamish has become technique,
Dolores forgotten.
Now the drummer plays off him,
indulging in riffs unheard.
Band members swap expectant looks,
Hamish oblivious.
#5,6,7.
The players urge each other on
with twists of improvisation.
Tenor sax dives deeper into the music and leads it
to places new. Hamish follows him,
and then is following no-one,
rearranging the tropes of the genre to outline new possibilities and then explore them: no longer technique
but raw feeling.
Their music stops rather than ends. Applause takes its place.
The musicians stare
at each other,
exhausted,
elated,
astonished.
Hamish threads his way to Dolores. She is not alone.
He takes her aside, implores her.
She snaps.
Sorry. Just not my type.
The world stops turning.
His blood has frozen in his veins.
His liver has turned to lead.
His head hurts.
The bandleader approaches Hamish
like a business-touting Charon.
Hell to pay for disobedience.
We have to talk.
Hell’s gondolier beams.
Let’s get us some beer,
fix you some solo time
for our Oaxaca gig.
Hamish is back, in a world that turns
towards light.
Bryan Murphy is a former teacher and translator who now concentrates on his own words. He divides his time among England, Italy, the wider world and cyberspace. He is the author of the e-books Linehan’s Trip and Goodbye, Padania, and welcomes visitors at: www.bryanmurphy.eu
The guitar awakens to Hamish's tuning touch.
Hamish the outsider: youngster, beanpole, foreigner.
Mazunte’s air is heavy with coastal flowers and Dolores.
He knows she is there.
#1
Hamish disburses his allotted notes,
thrills to the skill of the tenor sax beside him,
follows his bandleader’s instructions to stick to the score.
#2
Hamish glimpses Dolores. Has she changed?
Hair bleached to a lighter charcoal,
self-composed, at ease in town clothes,
she slips beyond his vision.
#3.
Hamish's notes slide into urgency,
playing for Dolores,
calling her to his orbit.
#4
Hamish has become technique,
Dolores forgotten.
Now the drummer plays off him,
indulging in riffs unheard.
Band members swap expectant looks,
Hamish oblivious.
#5,6,7.
The players urge each other on
with twists of improvisation.
Tenor sax dives deeper into the music and leads it
to places new. Hamish follows him,
and then is following no-one,
rearranging the tropes of the genre to outline new possibilities and then explore them: no longer technique
but raw feeling.
Their music stops rather than ends. Applause takes its place.
The musicians stare
at each other,
exhausted,
elated,
astonished.
Hamish threads his way to Dolores. She is not alone.
He takes her aside, implores her.
She snaps.
Sorry. Just not my type.
The world stops turning.
His blood has frozen in his veins.
His liver has turned to lead.
His head hurts.
The bandleader approaches Hamish
like a business-touting Charon.
Hell to pay for disobedience.
We have to talk.
Hell’s gondolier beams.
Let’s get us some beer,
fix you some solo time
for our Oaxaca gig.
Hamish is back, in a world that turns
towards light.
Bryan Murphy is a former teacher and translator who now concentrates on his own words. He divides his time among England, Italy, the wider world and cyberspace. He is the author of the e-books Linehan’s Trip and Goodbye, Padania, and welcomes visitors at: www.bryanmurphy.eu
China 2012
The day starts and ends earlier here: it’s early to bed and early to rise, though I get a special dispensation to lie in. Lunch around midday, and the evening meal rarely later than 6 p.m. Tough if you’re used to Italian ways.
November 6, 2012
China 2012
Suzhou city buses are plentiful, and plenty full. The passengers seem happy enough.
The buses have “next stop” announcements, first in Mandarin, then in Suzhounese.
Q loses 100 euros to a pickpocket, probably at a bus stop.
The buses have “next stop” announcements, first in Mandarin, then in Suzhounese.
Q loses 100 euros to a pickpocket, probably at a bus stop.
November 1, 2012
A year free of Larkin's "Toad"
A year ago today, I retired and celebrated the first day of the rest of my life. I’ve been celebrating ever since! I promised myself I’d never work for anyone else ever again. I’ve pretty much kept my promise in that I’ve only done occasional jobs as favours for friends. Matter of fact, I’m doing one right now, so I’d better get back to it. Lucky I wasn’t a car mechanic!
October 30, 2012
October 29, 2012
New e-book
The English-only version of “Goodbye, Padania” is now out!! It costs less than a cup of coffee, from: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view...
Please take a look (you can download a sample), and if you like it, please “like” it, maybe buy it and certainly recommend it to friends. Thanks!
Please take a look (you can download a sample), and if you like it, please “like” it, maybe buy it and certainly recommend it to friends. Thanks!
October 26, 2012
China 2012
A plaque at the entrance to an old area of Suzhou boasts of restoration without disneyfication. A shining example to us all.
The height of new buildings around Suzhou’s landmark North Pagoda is restricted, to make sure it continues to tower above its surroundings.
Old buildings there can be demolished, but new buildings must be in traditional style. This allows limited gentrification.
Q’s family block has survived because developers would have to sell to far fewer families than they had bought from
The height of new buildings around Suzhou’s landmark North Pagoda is restricted, to make sure it continues to tower above its surroundings.
Old buildings there can be demolished, but new buildings must be in traditional style. This allows limited gentrification.
Q’s family block has survived because developers would have to sell to far fewer families than they had bought from
