I love this find on the beach - the flower (I think it's a danewort, but please someone correct me if you know otherwise) growing out of the well-rotted sheep's carcass. The washed wool reminds me of lava with the erupting flower standing proud, it's a mini Iceland out there ... with less impact on holiday makers.
I would love to be able to slide seamlessly and cleverly from this life in death image to the Mouthtrap gig on Friday but it's Monday morning, after a gorgeously lazy weekend in the sunshine, so am not going to even try.
Although I did also thoroughly enjoy Mouthtrap's turn on Friday at Totally Wired at Storey Gallery it wasn't really a life in death experience or even a death in life experience. It was a wholehearted engagement in listening, watching, environmentalism and old fashioned fun. The acoustics in the gallery were astounding, especially when we were un-amped and in separate corners, our voices curved around the whole ceiling, as if the place became one massive lung.
We improv'd off a villanelle of mine about lighthouses. Although I was the only one to use words in the event, and then only a few repeated lines, more phrasing, which seemed appropriate to the films that will also curving around the huge walls - we were harmonious, dischordant, pacy, expansive, menacing and probably a whole bunch of other stuff that I wasn't aware of at the time and have now no sense of at all.
Elswhere, we were treated to some fantastic jazz, a hurdy gurdy folksome threesome, gorgeous harmonies, intense films, wierd shit and a sense of being in the right place along with 130 other people. Cracking start to the weekend.