father · friends · music · old house · piano · spiritual · vision

Revisiting Ghosts of the Past

The Old Home
“The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts”. ~ Italo Calvino

When I had the chance to wander freely around the home and garden of one of my best friends from my childhood, I did not want to miss the chance to take photos, lots of photos. Who knew when I would have an opportunity like this again, if ever?

It surprised me just how many features of this old house, built in 1915, had remained with me for all of these years, and upon seeing them again were just how my memory had remembered them. Now, I wouldn’t have to leave my memories to chance, I would have photographs to remind me.

As we didn’t have access to the inside of the house (yes, we checked every door!), my photos were taken mostly through both windows and flyscreens, so please excuse the poor quality of most of them. You will, however, be able to make out some of the features, such as the old fireplaces and wooden floors.

Neglected Features

It was an absolute stroke of luck when I aimed my camera at one of the windows to take an inside photo, when I happened to notice I had a “person” also in my photo. Can you see them, on the left hand side this shot?

Ghostly Image?

The light of the day shone at just the right angle to pick up Adam’s reflection in the glass. With all of his worries about the old house being spooky, he got a kick out of seeing his own “ghostly” image in one of the photos!

Back in the days when this old home had been loved and cared for by my friend’s family, there had been a lovely old piano in one of the rooms. I had asked my friend’s father during one of my visits if I could “play” the piano. I explained to him that I didn’t really mean I could play the piano, I just liked mucking around on them, because I loved them so much.

He asked if I would like to learn a tune. Of course, I said yes!

During each of my visits from then on, we would have a “lesson”, and true to his word he taught me how to play my first tune on the piano.

My own children have heard this story for years and I have taught each of them how to play my song. To this day, that tune is the only one I can play, although I have an old piano of my own and two of my children can play, one of them being Adam. I wish I could tell you what the tune is called, but I haven’t got a clue!

Of course, I had told Adam that this was thee house where I had learned how to “play piano”, showing him exactly where it had been in the house back then.

With the old house now being unoccupied the rooms were bare, so you can imagine my doubt when Adam went ahead of me, peered through a window, and announced, “Mum, here’s your piano”!

Ghosts of the Past

How could that be? What were the odds, that within this old empty home, the one piece of furniture remaining would be a piano?

Can you see it there, all alone against the wall?

Who knows whether it was “my” original piano or not, but it was indeed a piano!

Maybe Adam was right, maybe the home and garden did have spooks in it. But one thing I know without a shadow of a doubt, I wasn’t afraid, just filled with the joy of revisiting my old memories and resurrecting some ghosts of the past.

“Apparitions are often confused with hauntings. The difference is that apparitions are “live” (intelligent consciousness) and hauntings are “recordings.” ~ Loyd Auerbach


 

chocolate · music · son

With Gentle Music in my Mind…

Words escape me today.

No, allow me correct myself; the words are present, lyrically bouncing along in my mind to the tunes of the songs I listened to yesterday afternoon and last night.

It’s the written word which escapes me, so I will rhythmically share with you the music playing in my head!

How could I ignore listening to the final few songs of the “Top 100 Love Songs”, featured on television late yesterday afternoon when I arrived home?

My super cool, thirteen year old son joined me, singing along to the songs, as I listened, amazed yet again, at his knowledge of songs recorded decades before his birth.

Adam and I shared chocolates whilst singing along to romantic melodies….”I Honestly Love You” from Olivia Newton John, “How Deep Is Your Love”, the Bee Gees, “I Will Always Love You” sung by Whitney Houston (from the movie “The Bodyguard”, Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing” and the number one song of the countdown, from the movie “Titanic”, Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On”.

Romantic songs over chocolates with your son ~ it doesn’t get much better than that!

My musical interlude continued later in the night with the discovery of the 2011 “Grammy Awards”. Not a big fan of rap music, although rap is big right now and does appear to have many fans, I persevered through the rap, to be later rewarded by hearing “Lady Antebellum’s” smooth, lyrical voices.

Towards the end of the Grammy’s, which didn’t finish screening here in Australia until nearly midnight, came the artist with thee song…Barbra Streisand singing one of the most beautiful songs of all time, “Evergreen”.

In case you missed it, here is the song I’ve had playing over and over and over in my head, all day long!

Barbra Streisand, “Evergreen”…

I managed to find an old Barbra Streisand CD in my cabinet this morning, which went out in the car with me this morning. Evergreen (track 9) was on constant replay!

The realities and practicalities of life continued as they always do today, all day long, but oh, how much easier realities are to contend with, with a beautiful song spinning around your mind! 🙂

(Photo Credit)

Australia · music

My First, Last and Only Rock Concert

Perhaps I really have lead a sheltered life, but the only rock concert I have ever been to in my entire life was in Sydney. I was nineteen years of age.

The concert was held at the Sydney Showground, which was the old venue for the Royal Easter Show, long before Olympic Park at Homebush Bay had even been thought of. At that stage, Sydney had not been given the rights to host the 2000 Olympic Games.

I remember the day well, it was a warm November day, and I believe it was a Friday. The well promoted concert was called Rock Arena and it was THEE place to be in Sydney that day.

It had only been six weeks since I had left my brand new job at Broadbeach on the Gold Coast, my home and my parents. Sydney beckoned and I had answered the call.

The line up of artists on the day of the Rock Arena was impressive and included, among other lesser known bands, The Little River Band, Santana and the big finale was to be Fleetwood Mac.

With apologies to L.R.B. and Santana, I will admit (now!) with all honesty that my only attraction to the day was Fleetwood Mac!

The earlier part of the day began in quite a civilised manner. The concert was open air and the audience sat around on the huge grassy expanse with blankets and esky’s.

As the day turned into night and the big names appeared, my civilised afternoon transformed into chaos. Arm and legs were flung willy-nilly and girls climbed up onto beefy boys shoulders. Long hair flew hither and yon as the crowd surged forward, taking over our once claimed patch of ground.

The horrendous noise (from the crowd, that is!) and smells of cigarette smoke (or whatever it was that people were smoking!) and sweaty bodies scarred me for life.

Fleetwood Mac were the band I had waited to see, the only reason I had sat patiently in the heat of the afternoon, feeling like a veritable fish out of water, and see them I did!

I dodged and weaved with the best of them, straining my neck and standing barefoot on unnaturally high tippy-toes and there they were, confirming that the band was actually there!

Between songs, I seem to recall Stevie Nicks reaching for her glass of water, a lot. After the heat of the afternoon, I needed water too.

Finally the concert seemed to be winding down. It was decided that a speedy exit would be wise as the traffic leaving Sydney Showground would be horrendous.

My shoes! Where were they?

Crawling around the grass between smelly legs and feet, my one and only pair of decent shoes that I had brought with me to Sydney when I left the Gold Coast were located.

On that warm November day, way back when, I experienced my first, my last, my only, rock concert.

To this day, the scarring of that November day still remains and I continue to view rock concerts from home, on my television set, comfortably curled up in my comfy chair.

Tonight, I watched a George Michael concert, which he performed in a massive, under cover stadium in London. Thousands of seats surrounded the stage, filled to capacity with fans who witnessed the charming George belt out hit song after hit song.

As I watched George Michael performing, it brought back to mind my patch of grass and Fleetwood Mac, and all of the other memories from a lifetime ago.

Rock concerts have certainly advanced during the goodness-knows-how-many years since I suffered through the heat and discomfort for Fleetwood Mac.

Wonders may still exist…if George Michael should arrange a concert tour of Australia, I may just buy a ticket to his concert! 🙂

music

A Beautiful Movie….A Beautiful Song

A commitment is a commitment, and yes, I did commit to a postaday2011.

So here I am at 11.30 pm, just to say today has been big.

And I’m tired.

If I talk about my day now, there is a danger this post won’t make it to being published before midnight, largely because my head will crash onto the computer keyboard and I will be asleep at my desk for the night!

It will have to keep ’till tomorrow.

I will leave you with a link to YouTube, to a song from a movie, both which hold a lot of meaning to me.

It’s A Beautiful Song….so until tomorrow, enjoy.

friends · music

Memories of My First Love

The power of the human mind fascinates me.

In many of my writings here, I find myself contemplating our abilities as human beings to shape our lives, moulding them to become what we would like them to be, by utilising the energies of an unseen being, a being with which we have total control over ~ our own minds.

However, our minds can be fickle little creatures, wandering off to parts unknown, if we let our guard down.

And most times our thoughts wander off into familiar territory. Our memories.

Some time ago I started another blog, one in which I would have a place to record my memories; a place where I could vent my thoughts and unmuddle my brain.

Once written, those thoughts and memories take their rightful place, in the back of my mind, leaving a void in which new memories can enter.

It’s almost like a therapy session!

The perfect conditions must prevail for me to write down my significant memories most of the time. Sometimes, a memory will rattle and clank around in my mind for many years, before I can finally put the ghosts to rest, in words.

The planets aligned perfectly for me just recently. Memories began a lifetime ago reached their conclusion for me.

I have no explanation for my feelings; they just are what they are.

Here is my most recently dismissed ghost, buried within the words of my mind, at “Memoirs of my Life”.