Capercaillie and Cateran

It isn't every weekend that you share a stage with an international supergroup and then follow in the footsteps of marauding clans and cattle thieves. Not to mention the realisations that I am becoming addicted to Britain's Got Talent.

The weekend began at the Fintry Music Festival. The traditional music group I am a member of, Get Reel, was asked a while ago if we could support Capercaille. Unlikely you would think but a fact. Under the able instruction of our tutors Mike (Malinky) Vass and Barry (Spad)Reid we learned three sets to perform. This was our fifteen minute happening.

Karen Matheson passed through our rehearsal area back stage a couple of times and gave us smiles and hellos. I think she probably felt sorry for us as we screeched and droned.
At 8.00pm on Friday night we walked out into the stage in front of the packed hall of Fintry Sports Club and played our wee hearts out. The audience clapped along and gave us a massive applause. The Capercaille show was pretty fine too.

I have heard the bookings are now flooding in.


The Cateran Trail

I found a flyer in a magazine about a new walking trail in Perth and Angus. The circular trail starts and finishes in Blairgowrie. It follows the paths that the Caterans used and takes about five days to complete. Colin and I only had a couple of days so we opted for short sections.

The first section was from Bridge of Cally to Blairgowrie. The track takes a high route over the Cochrage Muir and give the walker wide landscapes of clean ploughed fields and up close and personal access to the many nestling birds in the area. At one point we were surrounded by lapwing mothers flapping over their youngsters, while the fledgling flustered round ground nests wondering what all the fuss was about.

We completed the section in a couple of hours and caught a taxi back to the Bridge of Cally Hotel where we enjoyed a well prepared and presented meal.

The Dalhenzean Lodge B&B, just up the road, was clean, comfortable and gave us the biggest cooked breakfast I have eaten in years. It was just the job to see us off on our next trip.

This time we opted for a variation on the Cateran trail so we could enjoy a circular route. This route took us past Loch Beanie where a fledgling oystercatcher was chirping and birlin in circles like one of those wind up toys you see in Chinese markets, the only difference was this little bird never ran out of spin.

Part of the walk took us on road but it didn't spoil the enjoyment too much. The thousands of lambs we encountered brought back to mind that age old puzzle - Why do such cute lambs turn into ugly sheep? It isn't right somehow.

One lamb made friends with us, I was tempted to stick him in my rucksack but in the end sent him back to his mother.

One lamb trying to make his escape

Poor Neglected Blog

The Clutha Vaults - The only place to be seen on a Friday night in Glasgow.

I can't believe it is almost a month since I last created a post. I have been delivering four new courses into the community and the preparation and teaching time have elbowed everything else into the background.

The courses, Excel, Kitchen Gardening X 2 and Creative Writing, are all going well. I am finished with the Excel and one Kitchen Gardening this week and hope this will free up some time to push me out into my own garden and reintroduce myself to my novel.

But it hasn't all been work. Colin won a weekend for two at the Jury's Glasgow Hotel and we thought we would combine it with the Bob Dylan concert.

We came into town on Friday night and had dinner at an old style Glasgow restaurant. It was at one time the place to be seen. We had eaten there before, on Valentine's night, but like all Valentine meals, we were disappointed. This time would be different, I was sure.

But it wasn't. I was served over cooked scallops to start. They were no match for the succulent fresh beasts dished up at the Applecross Inn. There they are so fresh you pass them on the way in still sloshing about in the fisherman's bucket.

The main course of swordfish wasn't too bad, but it wasn't that great either. The most startling thing about the restaurant was the clientele. They all looked like gangsters; old guys trying to impress young straightner-straight-haired women. It was a bizarre experience.

We needed brought back to earth, so we went for a drink in The Scotia Bar, an old Glasgow institution. A live Blues band was belting out many decibels, but a couple of old guys in the corner told me The Clutha Vaults, across the road, was better. And it was. Another live band was playing, this time seventies and eighties rock. Before I knew what was happening I was up on the floor dancing with four women from Pollock. They don't make pubs like that anymore.





After that Saturday night at the SECC could have been a let down, but Sir Bob came up with a show. He played a mixture of old and new material and his band were excellent. I hate Bob Dylan's new staccato singing style, but it was an honour to see what was billed as The Poet Laureate of Rock.





Congratulations to Carol Anne Duffy on becoming the new Poet Laureate. Let's hope she will continue with the excellent work Andrew Motion began with the Poetry Archive.

Strange Phenomenon

I don’t know why it happens but it does. After years and weeks of managing to completely avoid the X Factor I always seem to end up compelled to watch the final. Is it because it is on a couple of weeks before Christmas and I am so knackered by the time Saturday comes round I just want collapse in a heap and be drip fed red wine and dross TV?

This year I have to be honest and say I did have a tiny motive. I had heard that Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah was to be the X Factor single. I guess many purists will be horrified, but poor Leo’s retirement fund has been ripped off so he needs the cash. This is one of my favourite songs and I was curious to see how brutal the murder would be. Alexandra, the girl who won with a little help from Beyoncé, did an OK job of the classic but it wasn’t a patch on the Jeff Buckley version.

I have been trying to play and sing the song since last week and have been failing at every F, it is full of them!




Leonard depends more on his songwriting skills than his singing style.



Guilty Pleasures

As the night progressed I threw out the last of my street cred (if I had any to begin with) into the recycle bin and watched and enjoyed The Girls’ Aloud Party. I had forgotten what a Saturday night was for, but I will make sure I have other plans organised for next week or I might end up watching the final of Strictly Come Dancing.

food and drink and foraging

High Brow or What






It is no coincidence that food and drink feature highly on my list of first fifties. I adore food (and drink). The weekend before last was the beginning of my collection of food firsts.

Every year Aberfoyle hold a mushroom festival and being close at hand seemed like an opportunity not to be missed for a novice forager like myself. I booked a couple of places on a mushroom foray. The weather has been pretty yuck here but thankfully the rain stopped just in time for us to meet Liz, our guide for the day. She led us under screaming children having fun on the Go Ape slide that operates from David Marshall Lodge. Liz was very knowledgeable about her subject and without being too technical managed to engage an audience of about twenty adults and teenagers. We were given an opportunely to forage for mushrooms and bring them back to Liz for identification. In one small patch we managed to collect a fair haul, most were inedible, some poisonous. There was one log covered in Angels Wings, a white fungi Liz said was edible, so I took a couple of wings to try later.

Next morning I chopped up a small piece of mushroom and fried it in butter. Colin and I both tried some and waited for an effect. When but there was no ill effect I chopped up the rest and put in our chicken gravy. I was not happy when clearing the plates away I found that Colin had left most of his mushroom lying on the plate. Coward.

The next first was a long overdue visit to a Concert, a Canapé and a Cocktail, which plays every Monday at Oran Mor and is a sister event to the much loved Play, Pie and Pint. The concert played by the National Youth Orchestra of Scotland was superb. Unfortunately the canapés were unremarkable and the cocktail had dubious ingredients and little alcohol content.

Not so the last of my firsts this week. On Saturday night we went to dinner at friends’. We were royally treated to champagne, red wine, roast beef with perfect vegetables and a cocktail I have never tasted before. ‘A dirty girl scout’ was served between courses, this is a concoction of three parts Baileys to one part crème de menthe, I think vodka might have been mentioned too. It tasted like peppermint creams and judging by the hangover I had yesterday it was lethal.

Echo Wall by Dave and Claire Macleod

Watch the trailer again


Last week I blogged the trailer for Echo Wall. This week I’ve been lucky enough to preview the Echo Wall DVD and can tell you that the full length version lives up to the thrills of the trailer.

Climbing was a mystery to me until I moved to Glasgow in 1998. Back then I sometimes accompanied Colin to the Glasgow Climbing Centre at Ibrox. There I would piddle about on a couple of climbs trying the reach the top of easy walls before wimping to the café in the rafters to sup hot chocolate and watch the show on the really, really hard walls. One night I noticed a dark haired climber who bore a striking resemblance to my horrible ex boss, I was fascinated, not by the resemblance but by the sheer eloquence of the climbing. Even I could recognise this climber was special. At the end of the night I asked Colin who he was. ‘That’s Dumbie Dave, he’s from Dumbarton’.

The climber was Dave Macleod, now one of the world top climbers as proven in his astounding film E11, when he pioneered one of the hardest rock climbs ever.

A year ago Dave and his wife Claire moved to Fort William to concentrate on their professional climbing and film careers. They might not like this comparison but they seem to me to be the Posh and Becks of the climbing world, but with substance and much more to offer.

Echo Wall finds Claire behind the camera, filming her husband training for an attempt on a dangerous climbing route, a blank wall on Ben Nevis. Where this film differs for other climbing cinematography is that there is no Big Wall American hype or zoom-in shots of worried faces; no phoney tension build up or histrionics and no strangled cries of ‘OMG this is awesome’.

Echo Wall is clever. One powerful opening shot is a wide angle of the massive, terrible ice smeared cliffs of Ben Nevis and a single, small figure (Dave) moving up the face, the shot is super imposed with the climb’s name ‘Don’t Die'(XI). My heart stopped at that point and I began to bite my finger nails.

The training in Spain shows Dave climbing 'Darwin Dixit' (8c) solo (no ropes – very bad if he fell). The techno drum soundtrack choreographed the piece into a stunning new art form; a synchronism of man and rock. It was wonderful to watch and I still had some nails left.

The training on Echo Wall itself showcased Scotland at its weather worst and best. The highlight for me was Dave’s training run over Tower Ridge, a ridge that most people tackle roped up.

It was fascinating to listen to Dave’s philosophy on risk and to watch him on hand and knees on his hall floor making a reinforced thighpad (next years must haves) and explaining how it would give him a few minutes rest time on the climb just before the crux (the hardest part where he could fall off).

The actual attempt is arresting, I have no idea what Claire must have been feeling behind the camera and I wonder if having her there makes any difference to Dave’s obvious sound attitude.

I won’t spoil the ending for you but will recommend that, if you are planning to buy a Christmas DVD for an adventure hungry relative or Discovery Channel junkie, then this is guaranteed to thrill.

As a novice film maker, Claire must be applauded for the production of the film. The appropriate and evocative music is ModernTrad and very desirable to own. She would have been spoiled for choice of scenery shots in Scotland, in this instance the choices shows relevant locations, using the best light and angles. Even the fun shots of the pair digging a snow pack off the route lightens the tension and makes the whole project feel intimate.

I suspect we won’t see a perfume range produced by Brand Macleod but I predict that thigh pads and hopefully the movie soundtrack will be the next offering. Even an art installation at the Glasgow Centre for Contemporary Arts (CCA) is a possibility.

The DVD can be purchased from www.davemacleod.com and selected outdoor stores.

Joan Baez wows Glasgow

Another first for me. Last night I witnessed the hard men of Glasgow simper under the hypnotic vocals of legend Joan Baez. The show at the Glasgow Royal Concert Hall was special for me because having just learned the rudiments of guitar I have a renewed love of all things folk.

Joan Baez was a huge draw when I was a child and to have the chance to see her singing live was a privilege.

This lady, who has shorn her hippy hair, now looks stunning with a trendy silver crop. She retains the crisp vocals and astounding range of early Joan. However she did admit last night, after forgetting lyrics for a second time, that her brain cells are not what they were. Her band played a little out of sync with her; this was explained when she introduced them as having met her only a week and a half ago. Because of this I enjoyed her solo set best, just Joan and her guitar.

It is a testament of our time, that her signature protests songs have now been reintroduced into the set. Dylan's God On Our Side was particularly telling.

The humor was provided by the guy in the first row who persisted in shouting out requests, despite Joan's plea for a translator. The affection the crowd poured towards Lady Joan was touching. I suspect she has a long career ahead of her.


Just Read The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver



In my quest to read more African books in 2008 than I have in my previous fifty years, it was a delight to stumble upon Poisonwood Bible in the Bibliocafe. The book is a former Oprah book club choice but, having now peeked into the list, with some exceptions, I am beginning to think that is no bad thing.

Set in the Belgian Congo at the time of Independence, this novel tells the tale of an evangelical minister who drags his wife and four daughters into the jungle to convert the natives. Told through the five very distinctive female voices, this is a masterpiece in character, plot and sentiment. With the exception of War and Peace it is the best book I have read this year.

to be admired

Congratulations Team GB! Nineteen Olympic gold medals and a shed load of others. I am please that the Olympics were such a success. The British reporters on the ground in Beijing were heaping praise on the organisation and the friendliness of the volunteers. Well done Beijing.

And come on London - you have a lot to live up to now.


Leave the girl alone

I was stunned at the weekend to hear normally egalitarian friends slagging off Madonna,

What is she like?
She should act her age
Why can’t she grow old gracefully?
She should be at home knitting

Kntting!

This woman is a dancer by profession, why can’t she be allowed to do her job. I have never heard anyone saying that Mike Jagger should grow old gracefully, they say of him ‘Isn’t it great he still rocks.’

I reminded these so called liberal thinkers that Dame Margot Fonteyn did not start dancing with Nureyev until she was forty three and she did not retire until she was sixty.

If fifty is the new forty then I think Madonna has a few years left before she needs to pick up her knitting needles.

Thank you for the Music

A great music experience

Life has been pretty quiet and I was struggling to find some thing to put on the blog tonight then I turned on the radio for my tea time music fix. I enjoy cooking but sometimes weekday meals become a chore; Radio Scotland’s and Bryan Burnett’s ‘Get It On’ is the best antidote for teatime blues. I have mentioned ‘Get it on’ before but to remind you the programme – now extended to a two hour slot - chooses a theme each night and listeners send in their requests. The format throws out the most unexpected selections and during the show you are constantly saying ‘Oh I haven’t heard this for years’

The programme has a definite cult following with regular contributors like ‘Jim the Jam Man’ ‘Mike from Fife’ and the ‘Inverpolly Crew’. On the Monday second hour one listener has the chance to feature their own summer mix; a play list with related stories behind the choices. These have been immensely popular and often hilarious but tonight’s offering deserved to win a platinum disc.

Maybe it’s because we Scots are a sentimental bunch but Donna’s summer mix was heart wrenching and judging from the comments read out, everyone agreed. Donna, an American pilot, came to Scotland for a holiday last year, ended up on the Isle of Skye met Bryan (not Bryan Burnett) and they fell in love, married, but live thousands of miles apart. I could hardly eat my tea for the lump in my throat. Check it out - Donna's story and her playlist are on the blog. I feel as though I am part of a big family. I hope Donna finds a job in Scotland soon.


Still On the music theme

Colin and I are currently working our way through our separate vinyl collections and converting them to digital. This is enjoyable but can often be an emotional experience. Last Saturday night I played Stevie Nicks' Bella Donna and it brought back painful memories of my first marriage.

Christmas Day 1980something I received this album from my parents, but I was forbidden to play it by my then husband. He maybe wanted to watch ‘Eastenders’ or ‘The Great Escape’ for the tenth time - I can’t remember. Once he was drunk enough and sleeping, I crept out of my marital bed in the middle of the night, poured myself a wee glass of wine and listened to my pressie. Sad eh?

Terrifying Times

Fifty First Timer No.8


Plant a tree


A fig tree to be exact. I love figs, I have a gallon of fig wine on the churn at the moment and I love to eat them with my porridge, but they come a long way from the growing fields to my table. I have no idea if my tree will bear fruit but I have to at least try.



Last year I grew blueberries in pots and once I managed to bring them in doors, into safety from the greedy birds, I cropped enough of this mega fruit to last at least a month. Not much I know, but I also planted a couple of gooseberry and black currant bushes this weekend. If I can supplement all by plonking in two apple trees and continue to scrounge plums from next door, I can then stew, bottle and freeze these fruits to last a while. I may just be able to reduce my fruit air miles a teeny fraction.


I also saved a tree. While pruning some over grown bushes I stumbled upon a spindly wee tree struggling to reach its head above the vigorous neighbours. I dug the runt out and gave it breathing space beside the gooseberries – I have no idea what this tree is but it looks happy.


The plan is to plant a buddleia too. No fruit but it is the best bush to encourage bees and butterflies back into the garden.






Fifty First Timer No.9



Step into the spotlight


On Saturday night I joined the Get Reel AllStars for an appearance on stage at the McLintock Hall, Balfron. This was part of the Rural Blend Festival organised by the Tolbooth, Stirling.

Get Reel is the traditional music group I attend each week to try and improve my guitar playing. Saturday evening was our annual performance as a group.

I trembled on stage along side my three fellow Get Reel guitarists, the Get Reel fiddlers and, thankfully, a couple of professional musicians. I have never been so terrified in my life. Our numbers rang out a series of missed notes but the audience didn’t seem to mind.

Once our slot was over the professionals took over.

First twins, Mike and Ali Vass treated us to a stirring set, playing the unusual combination of fiddle and piano. Mike is the quiet Get Reel fiddle tutor, but I found it hard to recognise that quiet man in the vibrant stage persona. He was born to perform.


After a short break, Lori Watson and the Rule of Three stormed the stage and treated us to traditional and experimental music from the borders. The trio of fiddle, accordion and a unique guitar playing style had the Balfron audience wondering how their small rural village had secured such a fine line-up.
Thank you Tolbooth for making it all possible.

The rain has stopped, stop building that ark

Michael Marra, one of Scotland's best

Fifty First Timer No.5

The Cremation of Sam McGee - Tolbooth, Stirling Saturday 9th February 2008

This performance qualifies as a fifty first on two counts. Firstly I have always wanted to see Michael Marra live. I almost achieved this last year then he appeared in collaboration with Scotland's poet laureate, Liz Lochhead but by the time I got around to buying the tickets the event was sold out.

Secondly ever since I first heard a Robert Service poem during a performance at Oran Mor, Glasgow, I made a mental note to find out more about his work.

This staggering show at the Tolbooth was the creation of cellist Christine Hanson. She managed to cajole the finest musicians in Scotland to join her in this performance of multi media magic.

In The Cremation of Sam McGee, Hanson took the rascally poem of Robert Service and composed a series of intricate traditional pieces to blend through the story. As if that wasn't enough, her compositions were accompanied, not only by the fine musicians but by the bright, inspiring images of artist Ted Harrison, one of Canada's foremost painters.

Micheal Marra narrated the poem and for anyone one who has never heard Marra speak or sing, to say his voice is gravely is not only a cliché, it is an understatement. His voice is crushed concrete, fag ash and whiskey mash churned together and matured in the corner of a smoky bar room, it is perfect for this narration.

The Line up

Michael Marra

Christine Hanson

Rick Taylor (Peatbog Faeries)

Kevin Murray (The Cutting Edge)

Bruce MacGregor (Blazin Fiddles)

Gordon Gunn

Anna Massie (The Anna Massie Band)

Kevin Maguire

Brian McAlpine (Session A9)

James Mackintosh (Shooglenifty)

Spring is almost here

Today I heard a woodpecker rapping in the trees. Later my bird feeder was visited by a woodpecker, maybe the same one. His comic grin and red backside never fail to make me gasp in delight. Unfortunately he was too speedy for my camera.

Yesterday was spent in the garden, pruning and chopping. I hauled a rusty old bin out of the corner of the big compost heap and started off another household waste compost bin with it. With any luck the resident black bin that happily plays host to hundreds of clever little worms and beasties that break down the waste, if left alone, will mulch away to fine compost by this time next year.

Result

After weeks of picking up, from the door mat, brown envelopes addressed to me in my own hand containing rejection slips, I received one this morning informing me that a short story had been short listed in a competition. The publication wanted to place my story in a forthcoming issue. Result!

Tunes of the Earth

Plain White Ts - Hey There Delilah

The guitar tune I aim to conquer before the New Year. Wish me luck!

Synchronicity

I am a great believer in synchronicity, when two things happen at the same time with a strong connection. Some people call this coincidence, I call it spooky.
Maybe I am more open to this phenomenon, but I experience this all the time.

One such incident happened last Thursday. I picked up a book of poetry from the library, The Tree House by Kathleen Jamie. That evening I received the latest newsletter of The Ochil Mountaineering Club, a club I have been a member of for fifteen years. I was delighted to read of one member’s canoe trip to the islands of Loch Maree, Wester Ross. In the article the writer describes a tree on one island that has coins hammered into its trunk. Something triggered in my memory, something I had heard about Jamie’s poems. I grabbed the book and was astounded to find the first poem The Wishing Tree, describing the very tree on Loch Maree.



What is Inconvenient about the truth?

Last night I watched the DVD The Inconvenient Truth, the film by Al Gore. Most of the points made in the film were not new to me, but it was clear that the efforts of the rest of the world were pretty paltry compared to the difference the US could make if only they would take this matter seriously. The one thing that may make them sit up is the failings of their car industry. I personally traded my guzzling 25mpg Chrysler for a nippy 46mpg Suzuki. It was one of the best moves I have ever made.

This film also made me think of the other positive steps I have made to improve my own carbon footprint.

Two weeks ago I began ordering from a vegetable box scheme at http://www.mylocalfarm.co.uk/ This seems like a good idea until I manage to work my garden into providing my own fresh produce. The only problems is that the company do tend to heap on the root vegetables at this time of year and despite finding a great website http://www.mrneep.co.uk/, I am struggling to use up all the potatoes and turnips delivered.

It is difficult to come up with different Christmas Pressies for friends and family and still try to be earth friendly. But this year I think I have hit a winner. I live within staggering distance of Glengoyne whisky distillery and their gift shop is a full of locally produced gifts. One piece of their moreish fudge probably has more calories than I need in a year, but is so yummy it is easy to forgo the healthy options. The best product is their range of organic soaps handmade by Purdie’s. I bought the Whisky Ginger & Barley for my own use and have fallen in love with the evocative rich spice perfume. The packaging is simple and the price is not deadly. In future I will spread my soap purchases between the distillery and my other favourite soap shop, Arran Aromatics, from where I stock up during my annual visit to the island.

This year I also switched to Lush deodorant. Lush produce an organic deodorant sliced from a block like a lump of cheese. 100 gram purchase can be divided into small pieces and kept in paper bag. It lasts for ages. No need for the heavy plastic packaging used by most deodorant suppliers. My one concern with Lush is I don’t know how far the products travel before they reach the stores, but I can’t find a local supplier of deodorant.

Writing, reading and music

The Black Cab Sessions

Check out the website. One singer, one song, one black cab, that's the theme. BCS are currently presenting twenty chapters on the website. It's an unusual way to listen to music and see some sights around London on the way. The cabbies seem to enjoy themselves too.

The featured clip is by Emmy the Great. Her myspace has more mellow tunes to sample.


Artist's Waywardness

I have fallen off the Artist's Way. Oh, I try to read through the weekly chapters and I do try to work most of the exercises, but I find it is distracting me from my other writings. I will persevere and finish the exercises for the end of this year, but the course is receiving low priority from me these day.

Top Priority

The Scottish Association Of Writers is holding its annual conference in March 2008. I have registered to attend for the first time ever. They have a full programme of events, but the attraction for me is the many competitions the conference holds. Entries must be submitted in January, but I have been assured by previous conference attendees, that even though you may be unsuccessful in the prizes, each entry receives a full crit. I intend to make the most of this opportunity.

Just Read

Yesterday I underwent day surgery. after receiving a full anesthetic in the morning I wasn't up to much in the afternoon, I did my Elizabeth Barrett Browning impersonation, wrapped myself in a duvet and played invalid. I also read The White Bird Passes by Jessie Kesson from cover to cover. This book, set in the 1920s and written in 1958, tell the story of Janie MacVean, a small girl of eight growing up in poverty in The Lane, a backstreet of a city in North East Scotland. The story is semi autobiographical, but unlike the reams of hard luck fiction that fills the supermarket shelves these days, this novel contains some of the best prose writing I have read in a while. her characterisations are alive, the language is filled with poetic imagery and stunning metaphors. But it is the third person narrative of Janie that makes this book a classic. It is heartbreaking and funny without being sentimental.

I now own three Jessie Kesson novels, reprinted by B & W Publishing. These small volumes are a treasure. The front covers are emotive paintings by Dorothy Johnstone , a contemporary of Mrs Kesson. Two of these books I picked up from my favorite book seller, Oxfam Bookstore in Byres Road.




Thank you

I would just like to commend and thank the staff at Gartnavel Hospital Day Surgery. I have never been in hospital before and was terrified because of all the stories I hear of the British National Health Service. My experience yesterday was unbelievable. The day surgery was run with precision timing, I was processed through a number of well rehearsed steps and made to feel safe and well. All the staff were kind, helpful and friendly. The tea and toast was fab.

What a performance

Sigur Rós

Venus as a Boy

One of the best books I have read this year is Venus as a Boy by writer and musician Luke Sutherland. I heard the author on the radio a few months back talking about his the forthcoming adaptation of this extraordinary book. I was so enthralled by the story I bought the book and on Wednesday this week went to see the National Theatre of Scotland production at the Citizen’s Theatre, Glasgow. This is part of the Glasgay festival.

The narration begins with the author being approached in London by a young boy Pascal, who asks Luke to record the story of his dying friend, Cupid. Cupid claims to have known the author in Orkney. After ignoring this plea Luke was surprised, when a couple of weeks later, he received a package containing tapes of Cupid’s story.

This is the tale of a boy with a gift of love. Through lovemaking he can offer the most miserable beings a glimpse into the wonders of heaven. The story follows him from his tortured childhood in Orkney to pot washing in Ullapool, where he discovers his gift. After a stint in Edinburgh he is forced into male prostitution in London.

The book is crammed with original observations and a poetic language that grasps the gut with its simplistic beauty.

The Tam Dean Burn's stage adaptation is equally awe-inspiring. Mr Burn acts and directs and makes the piece his own. He relives the life of Cupid aided only by Luke Sutherland, the author himself, who performs his spine tingling score as accompaniment to the narration. Mr Burn’s performance, in the intimate Citizen's Circle Studio, is exhausting and emotional to watch, he must feel wrecked after the hour and a half performance.
The Citizen’s run ends on the 10th of October. The production will then move to Liverpool.

New music and film (to me)

A new film ‘heima’ is released next week. The film features the music and artistic creations of Icelandic band Sigur Rós. I have been listening to downloads featured on their website all afternoon and am hooked – check them out!



I won’t have time to go see the film, which is screened at the Glasgow Film Theatre (GFT), because I am off on holiday to my beloved Applecross, the place I fell in love with ten years ago and pilgrimage to every year.



Applecross Bay