regridded by katharine eastman

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very lofi very simple very-hastily-recorded thing sounding very much like so very much of everything else I've ever done - rather more repetitive than usual - perhaps that's a brave thing, perhaps it's just a lazy thing - I've never thought of either of those things as being huge faults or blessings anyway. I like this one a lot. But that might just be because it's been quite a while (by my standards) since I've last heard/done any music, and a break from music always heals so much
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yes I am back. Yes I have been away. No nothing has changed. But no, this time I will not do a huge long travel-report telling about every step of the way. I got back today. On a high for what I'd done. On a melancholy slight "low" because it was over and I was now back in just this same small house and its few distractions - though I am not complaining - I choose to have few distractions here at home - just music and reading and sleep really.

But the main cause of my melancholy, I think, was that for two beautiful peaceful weeks I have been away from the internet and all that - no I don't have a smart phone and of course I didn't take my laptop with me and I never saw an email for all that time and lost touch with everyone and people could've died and no one could've told me - though I can of course do as little about death as anyone.

All the time the newspapers are full of people telling us about the time they locked their smartphone away for 24 hours and how antsy they got being away from social media for a whole day. So it shows how out of kilter I must be - because two weeks without any internet or even my text-only mobe was as heavenly as all the other aspects of that escape.

So when I looked at my emails a couple of hours ago to see who had died, I found that it was absolutely no one. In fact no one had done anything much. My mother had got anxious and thought I must be dead after a car crash. But I think she was only kidding.

Being as emails and Bandcamp are the only two things I ever do on this laptop, after the emails it was time to make some music - this album. Would I remember how to do it ? Well it's not exactly as if I write operas is it. Of course I remembered. I once dreamed that I'd become a music teacher. If that "dream" ever comes true then my classes will last only about 40 seconds.

So here is today's album. Same as the last one. Same as the next one, I guess. Though I'm feeling more adventurous now and the next one might be tomorrow or it might be in a fortnight, or a year, or never. But I strongly feel that it'll be tomorrow. Till then. Then.
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(recorded this afternoon/evening, photo my garden this evening - I didn't take my camera with me on my long tramp, so this is the best I can do, and I rather like it)
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