It's a foggy day in Toon, I'm just back from church. There's a big match on in Newcastle today. A lot at stake. There's always a lot at stake. Fans wrapped in scarves. Battle colours. Coats of arms. Black and white . Claret and blue. Making therir way up the slope in the opposute durectuin from me to Gallowgate. Not to see a hanging but to watch Brazilians and Germans and English and Durchmen chase a ball and net some momentary glory. Games with frontiers.Wars without tears.
I'm back in my flat now. There are plates and md mugs piled in the sink. But they can waut. I want to listen to this. The Fallen By Watchbird. The latest act of umagination and reimagination from Jane Weaver. A fifteen year anniversary release. Resilient female exploration and discovery. Bravey and wonder. Imagination has its dominion. Limitations don't exust., There are no watchtowers. No surveillance or control. .
In a new Age of Anxiety we have two fundamental options. We can panic and overthink. Stress about our emotions and the world. Our loved ones. Our kin. Our friends. Ourselves, Or we can luxuiate and burrow within. Escape into a hatch and relax into space.. Burrow into the past, Succumb to the idea of freedom and release,
This record is a perfect example of this. A golden pathway through the hillside. It's boundless frankly. Now. I think I need to do something about those plates in my sink. More on . The Fallen By Watchbird here.
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