memories

Time goes by – 2

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Time has gone by since living in Africa, getting married there and conceiving my eldest daughter there. I still remember all those we spent time with – Francis (Thabiso Tamae), Lebo, Ipa, Motsi and so many more. I remember talking to the ANC refugees who came through. I remember the people, the views, living in Lancer’s Inn, laughing, playing, loving, crying, living. I wish all of you could see this and know that I still think about you, there and all the rest. It is music that brings it back to me as well as the photos.


It may seem like little but these times and memories have added so much texture to my life. These are things I carry with me even now, especially now. There have been times when I have revisited the music and I tear up. I wish I could go back and see all of them and there.

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Time goes by – 1

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Yes! time goes by, tastes, likes, loves, appreciations all move on with time. There were times in my middle youth (in this instance for me that meany my 50s, as if I will ever truly grow up) when the things that made me look up, listen and all the rest – generally paying attention – were the loud, the brash, the banging, in one way or another. These were the days of free parties out in the Peaks, warehouses, abandoned buildings. These wer the days of club nights attended, run, played at and those for whom I was providing visuals.
In such days I acquired an appreciation of quite oddly contrasting things:
– odd trails through woods and seemingly ordinary patches of rock, grass, countryside
– old buildings, dilapidated, disused, derelict but still standing and serviceable in one way or another

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– tarnished clubs, nightclubs with a hint of distress or just a certain well lived texture, hence the Adelphi, the Arches, Corporation and more

 

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– scrappy flats, old caravans, particular estates and corner shops, ordinary old pubs, things with a history of ordinary people’s lives, a history of efforts made, painful failings, odd successes and joys, too many pains, accidents and setbacks.

 

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These were days when ultimately I ended up going out to various parties and clubbing with my daughters. We had a common set of tastes for events and music. It was all very surprising to their friends when they discovered that the old guy wandering about with them was their dad –  quite normal for them but so unusual for their buddies. In these days and nights a bond was built of common tastes and flavours. Those textures still come back to me, they still retain a particular power for me but they are no longer as immediate as they used to be.