The sewing machine has been a-whirring...

I've been taking full advantage of the shorter working hours this week as client work slows down for the holiday season. It helps that my boss is on holiday (at least in theory - she still works, but less than in a normal week) so the rate of task accumulation is much less, allowing me to clear my decks and tackle the 'rainy day' (or rather slow day) jobs like filing old emails.

I've been listening to a lot of background music this week, and my new discovery is Bella Harper. Thank you Deezer for your 'Hear This' section, I'm discovering some artists I really like through these recommendations. Check out her song 'Good Man's Wife' which you can listen to free and legally online here. (At least in Belgium - not sure how this works overseas...)

In addition to discovering new artists, I've been on a major sewing spree the last week or so. I've made a pair of pajama bottoms, from fabric I originally bought for a dress and then decided wasn't very... dress-like. I've got as much fabric again, and I'm toying between making a skirt for work which I can wear with blue and pink and purple jumpers this autumn (it's quite autumn-y isn't it?) and making another pair of pj bottoms for my sister, because the fabric reminds me so much of her somehow.

I finally got the pleats and darts right on the skirt I'm making from a pair of my boyfriend's wornout trousers. I'm now taking apart an old shirt of my boyfriend's which I salvaged from his last donation to the charity shop, and I'm going to make a skirt lining from the fabric. For those interested, the tutorial I am loosely following is on youtube here.

Remaining tasks after I make an inner skirt from the lining fabric are to attach the waistband, finally decide on the length, and decide what I'm going to do on the bottom hem. Ruffle? Plain? Lace? We shall see. I do feel ultra frugal with this skirt though - a custom-made skirt for work made from cast-offs? Even the thread I'm using to sew with is left over from the grey bedroom curtains. So far, the only cost is my time and the electricity to run the sewing machine.

What's working its way through your machine yet? Any projects you are planning? For me, I've got a very small and a very big project in mind... Any guesses?

Simple living songs

Continuing my music theme from yesterday, I thought I'd share one of my favourite songs which is very much in line with the simple living philosophy. It's by Chris Wood, an English folk artist who is not nearly as well known as he deserves to be. English folk music has often been the music of commentary or protest, a response to the changing modern world, an ordinary man's view of great events, and Chris Wood writes and performs songs very much in this strain.

He's written songs about the financial crisis, evolution, the death of Jean Charles de Menezes, and love songs about couples in retirement. They're all beautiful melodies and thoughtful lyrics, so I would very much like to share as several of them are on simple living themes. Take a trip also over to his website - his latest album is available for purchase and download directly from his website, and his music is also on Deezer. (I'm afraid I don't know about Spotify.)

One of my favourites is called 'The Grand Correction' and includes lines such as 'the backgarden's planted with spuds from fence to fence', which always makes me think of that BBC series The Good Life.

Another is about a refusal to sell a rural home to city folk looking for a retirement house - probably his best known, and I think it's beautiful. It's called 'The Cottager's Reply'.

Background music

I'm back! Sorry for my brief absence. Two reasons for this - firstly, work has been incredibly busy and stressful. I have been repeatedly reminded that rushing work just means I make more mistakes and have to go back and do it again.

Secondly, last night my lovely boyfriend took me for a rare treat, a classical music concert, for my birthday. We saw Bryn Terfel singing various operatic exceprts and it was brilliant - he's not only a good singer, he's a brilliant performer and entertainer. He thoroughly deserved the standing ovation and the riotous applause at the end.

Image from bozar.be

I was thinking on the way home about music, and how I listen.

When you're at a live music event, you're fully there. (Or at least you should be - anyone checking emails when Bryn Terfel is singing needs their head examined). I turned off my phone and focused totally on enjoying where I was, and it's very rare that I'm so present, so switched off from distractions and worries and a constant stream of reminders. I enjoyed it so much, it made me wonder why I wait for such rare and special occasions to be totally present in one experience. Why do I allow experiences and pleasures to be diluted by allowing interruptions in?

It's been quite a while since I sat and fully listened to a piece of music. I often listen to music, but it's normally background music. It's a kind of escapism really - by listening to music or the radio while I'm at work, I'm trying to half-pretend that I'm not there. That's not a very good practice, and to be honest it probably reduces my focus and my productivity. I'm thinking I might challenge myself to a week of no headphones and see how that changes the time of day I leave.

Using music as background noise also means I don't get to think about the music itself - to learn to understand or appreciate it, to develop preferences and favourites. I haven't 'discovered' a new piece or a new artist for quite some years. As you may be able to tell, my music tastes tend towards the classical, and the pieces I love most are those I know well, so that each note is a memory of another listening experience, and a reminder of the person I shared it with. With the first note of Die Walkure last night, I was standing with my dad in our old living room, bums resting on the radiator, listening together, while my Dad identified the different themes and marvelled at the precision of the brass section. It also reminded me that we haven't done anything like this together for far too long.

Many longer pieces of music take you on a journey, and I loose out on that when I instead have fragments beamed into my ear while I'm also having a conversation. I can vividly remember when I was given a CD of Karl Jenkin's 'The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace' for Christmas - when I arrived home I flopped on my bed with the liner notes and listened to the whole thing from beginning to end. I have a far better sense of what that is about, and how the different segments fit together, than many pieces I know snippets of nowadays.

So four lessons from a wonderful evening - be present, turn off distractions, make new memories, and follow the journey from beginning to end.