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| Inside Abbey of Saint-Avit-Sénieur |
The Woman in Goggles music
project continues apace and has been elbowing out blog time. Eight, could it be nine? original songs are in
gestation, tottering on the edge of birth. Except for My Shrink is Pregnant, none are at large in the community. But the corollary
of penning tunes is the quest to have them aired, live - if only to three sympathetic
people - necessitating a rappety-tap on venue doors and asking busy landlords
and hard-pressed landladies for a gig.
Sometimes I think this
would all be easier if I were still in my twenties. But when I was in my twenties I was even more
scared, though of different things. Or
maybe they were the same things – that one isn’t good enough, that one’s
efforts, or barefaced cheek, will be met with guffaws of incredulity. At which my instant response has always been:
I was just kidding.
Meanwhile, limbering up,
I’ve done a little of what we could term song-bombing. Its crucial difference from photo-bombing,
which is defined by Wikipedia as 'the act of inserting oneself into the field of view of a photograph often in order to play a practical joke on the photographer or the subjects', is
to give pleasure rather than affront. It
consists of getting a song into a public place, spontaneously, non-threateningly,
and without a busker’s cap in sight. I've notched up only a handful of scores, largely in safe spaces, like an
empty church. I did rounds with
close friends and family in Nolay and Saint-Germain-de- Belvès in France. When no one was looking, or listening, I slipped a quick solo Hodie Cristus Natus Est by Benjamin Britten into the Abbey of Saint-Avit-Sénieur whose splendid
interior demanded something reverential and soaring, even though it was a
baking July day and this was a Christmas carol.
Two years
ago, when I was in the Svaneti region of the Republic of Georgia
Instead, I’ll need to
leave you with this version.
Enjoy!
