Hayley; You can be kind without
Being in love
So let's all go to the
North Norfolk Coast
O! That's where they took the land
Back from the sea
So we can walk along
These shrinking cliffs.
But the winds still blow
And the tides still rage
And so
Times keep changing.
Will we still be here?
Walking on these ever-
Decreasing sands
Where the breeze ruffles your
Short perfect hair.
Hayley; I'll tell you this without
Being in love
The wind makes your hair
Billow and
Shimmer like
Ghosts.
Maybe, one day, we'll reclaim
These beaches too,
But for now, I'll
Give you this flow'r as a sign that we're
Friends and hope it lasts
For ever and ever, through
Winds that blow
And tides that rage
And so
Times will keep changing
Will we still be here?
Like
Ghosts.
Tuesday, 31 March 2009
Monday, 9 March 2009
Dr. Atomic
In Which: Our Hero Travels To The Big Smoke To See An Opera, Drinks Too Much Gin, And Falls Asleep
This is the name of John Adams' recent opera. I went to see it last Wednesday, at the ENO headquaters on Trafalgar Square. I do not claim to be any kind of opera expert*, as I think will probably become apparent. Let me set the scene.
I started the afternoon with lunch at St John's, (marrow on toast, of course) with a nice bottle of 2004 Vin de Pays de l'Herault, surprisingly structured despite a combination of four years aging (none in oak), and a position relatively towards the bottom of the wine list. this was followed by an eccles cake and madeira, and subsequently by an eccles cake and a madeira.
I like Farringdon, architecturally, and for the fact that it is never too busy, despite being slap in the middle of London.
I made my way to the colliseum (as they say) met friends, ordered a gin, slept through most of the first half, got another gin, listened to the second half, went to the pub. A wholy acceptable afternoon I would say, and wholy deserving of the following comments:
1) John Adams's operas are strange because they tackle very wide political issues by examining, to an almost absurd level of detail, very specific
*There are six different kinds of Opera Expert
This is the name of John Adams' recent opera. I went to see it last Wednesday, at the ENO headquaters on Trafalgar Square. I do not claim to be any kind of opera expert*, as I think will probably become apparent. Let me set the scene.
I started the afternoon with lunch at St John's, (marrow on toast, of course) with a nice bottle of 2004 Vin de Pays de l'Herault, surprisingly structured despite a combination of four years aging (none in oak), and a position relatively towards the bottom of the wine list. this was followed by an eccles cake and madeira, and subsequently by an eccles cake and a madeira.
I like Farringdon, architecturally, and for the fact that it is never too busy, despite being slap in the middle of London.
I made my way to the colliseum (as they say) met friends, ordered a gin, slept through most of the first half, got another gin, listened to the second half, went to the pub. A wholy acceptable afternoon I would say, and wholy deserving of the following comments:
1) John Adams's operas are strange because they tackle very wide political issues by examining, to an almost absurd level of detail, very specific
*There are six different kinds of Opera Expert
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