Betws Mountain, overlooking Ammanford

Distant, dumb hills silently green their faces and smile down the valley. A sentence of silence punctuated by rosy sheep and the call of black birds. I have followed these roads more than a hundred times since I was tiny, wrapped in blankets and the worn leather of old cars. Sunday afternoons accumulate on these slopes, drift gently upwards to slowly choke the swirl of clouds. Early mornings too; Sarah driving home and shooing the sheep out of her path. Mamgu still remembers the walk back up to Blaencardunen with bread.

It all changes in the night. You can see the ‘elephant’ and ‘bell’ constellations of streetlights, orange stars set into the gentle hills of Carmel. These are teenage nights.

Feeling Christmassy

Goodness me, how quick the year comes round to this most joyous of times - me preparing my annual Christmas EP. I've decided to go mediaeval this year, and I've chosen some really old Christmas tunes. Here's the tracklisting so far:

Gaudete
The Coventry Carol
In Dulci Jubilo
Un flambeau, Jeannette, Isabelle
Orientis Partibus
The Holly and the Ivy
The Boar’s Head
Tempus Adest Floridum
Here we come a-Wassailing

You can always have a listen to my other Christmassy stuff here, I've merged both EPs into one big one - and all free download too.

last.fm/music/FFLWCS/dolig+EP

Merry End Of August everyone, and to all a good September... x

Podcast 8.0

A piece of soundart/music in which the listener is asked to imagine a large wind-up machine, like a big musicbox being wound up and played in an open space like a church or cathedral.

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Download here.

Fucking full moon

She's upset my plans yet again. I've been having a busy week, granted, but on top of this I've had to contend with black thoughts; things seemingly ending; para-fucking-noia; stress, crying... oh blah blah blah, poor me.

I can see the end of the tunnel though, it's not too far - then I'll be back to happy old me (not Andrew-trist-Williams, as Alison calls it).

Keeping busy is key (though not work-busy, which is detrimental). I'm making some remixes at the moment: Scott Walker, Belinda Carlisle, not sure who else to do yet though. I want to finish these ones first.

Even getting ID'd in the supermarket just now isn't enough to cheer me up (I had no ID on me either, so the boy behind the till had to call a supervisor. My argument consisted of showing her my white hairs and telling her I was born in the same year as Star Wars. She seemed satified with that.)

Maybe a lazy day reading the paper will help. Maybe some unexpected emails from faraway friends will arrive today, maybe I'll get texted some unexpected loveliness. Who knows. The world (as far as the living room, study and garden) is my mollusc.