Monday, 31 August 2015

Rainy day in London

It's a rainy day in London I always like jazz when it rains

I nodded awake to sounds of the xylophone, some guy named Bobby Hutcherson from something over 50 years ago but it had Freddie Hubbard on it too and it sounded like magic

I went out the train platform was empty I looked at my phone I meant to buy that Bobby Hutcherson album but was tempted by the new album from The Weekend 

I bought The Weekend

I got on the train but then I bought that Bobby Hutcherson album too

I came back home and watched the rain fall on a quiet street from my window jazz was playing candles were lit food was cooking it's a rainy day in London.

The weekend can wait.

Sunday, 30 August 2015

Women are complicated.

Over 10 years ago, I traveled very far to see a girlfriend who totally blanked me and wouldn't speak to me. I came bearing flowers and gifts and only met resentment and anger, and a few days on the couch before an early departure home. I was confused a long time by that experience but only now am I realising what I should have said:

Women are complicated and I just didn't know what to say, which was I'm sorry and I love you. And. 

I want to be with you. And. 

I put you ahead of ambition, of ego, of career, of everything. And I'm sorry. 

That's what I didn't say then. 

I took your anger as rejection, and not for what I should have, which was a request, for dignity and love. 

I'm sorry.