I once knew a man who tied a Staffordshire Bull Terrier to a car. The dog exploded with strength and became magnificent.
Once a man I loved, a thoroughbred, taught me how to cycle. I was a donkey following him till my father died. I then ran away to the hills and ate away all of my muscle and then my fat and returned to vanquish that.
When we were right sized and played nicely he would invite me into his home and feed me an 'Oatie' which was the flapjack like cake he liked to make. Good honest food to share after training men go to play together. It was made from only the ingredients, oats, dried fruit, butter and love.
When I returned after six weeks fasting and starving and anorexic as I stayed for many years, I was literally a pale, outsized, vain, imitation of what he had been in his prime. To him I then became death chasing him. Chasing with all my strength, hard earned yet stolen, I then passed him for he feared to use his full strength to catch me.
One day, I drank too much the night before and for a man like me it takes five hours to burn the toxins away and cycle smoothly. At the end of our first hour's cycling he soared away from me up a hill and then, before I had crested it panting and sweating and spent, he climbed the next hill still. He climbed on foot carrying his donkey, sorry, his bicycle with him cradled in his arms to sit at the top and be seen sitting there drinking his water.
I beam just to think of it, I loved him so.
David, sometimes the man who tilts at windmills is no ordinary nut for, sometimes, the windmills at which they tilt are sometimes giants indeed .
One last gift, the other King of the Gypsies, Dinicu whom Heifetz stole from. He stole Hora Stacatto to show off his technique and he put his name above the gypsy he stole it from. But still he bowed, he called him 'The most talented violinist he had ever met'. No, he had met the better man and stolen.
It's how they are taught.
There are better men, men who study their whole lives and respect all musics, share as much as they can and take only so much that they may feed themselves and their families well. Men like
Denis, Christiaan, Tcha
Here is the other King of the Gypsies, the mighty Dinicu, master of all the styles he touched playing Plaisir D'Amour, lyrics below.
The finest violinist Heifetz ever heard, look him up.
Thank you Sebastien for letting me know, I chase you in my dreams.
By: Johann Martini
My God loves me, His love will never end.
He rests within my heart for my God loves me.
His gentle hand, He stretches over me.
Though storm-clouds threaten the day, he will set me free.
He comes to me, in sharing bread and wine.
He brings me life that will reach past the end of time.
My God loves me, his faithful love endures,
And we will live like his child held in love secure.
The joys of love as off’rings now we bring.
The pains of love will be lost in the praise we sing.
Abide with me, fast falls the eventide
The darkness deepens Lord, with me abide
When other helpers fail and comforts flee
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me
Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away
Change and decay in all around I see
O Thou who changest not, abide with me
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness
Where is death's sting?
Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee
In life, in death, o Lord, abide with me
Abide with me, abide with me
Nkosi, sikelel' iAfrika
Malupakam' upondo lwayo;
Yiva imitandazo yetu
Yihla Moya, yihla Moya
Yihla Moya Oyingcwele
Sikelela iNkosi zetu;
Zimkumbule umDali wazo;
Sikelel' amadol' esizwe,
Sikelela kwa nomlisela
Ulitwal' ilizwe ngomonde,
Bemvaba zonke zelilizwe;
Ubatwese ngoMoya Wako
Sikelel' ulimo nemfuyo;
Gzota zonk'indlala nezifo;
Zalisa ilizwe nempilo
Sikelel' amalinga etu
Nkosi Sikelel, Afrika;
Cima bonk' ubugwenza bayo
Neziggito, Nezono zayo
Lord, bless Africa
May her horn rise high up;
Hear Thou our prayers and bless us.
Descend O Spirit
Descend, O Holy Spirit
Bless our chiefs;
May they remember their Creator;
Fear Him and revere Him,
That He may bless them.
Bless the public men,
Bless also the youth
That they may carry the land with patience,
and that Thou mayst bless them.
Bless the wives;
And also all young women;
Lift up all the young girls
And bless them.
Bless the ministers
of all the churches of this land;
Endue them with Thy Spirit
And bless them.
Bless agriculture and stock raising;
Banish all famine and diseases;
Fill the land with good health
and bless it.
Bless our efforts of union and self-uplift,
Of education and mutual
And bless them.
Lord, bless Africa
Blot out all its wickedness
And its transgressions and sins,
And bless us.
I sit here in my home and still half mad go outside to listen to the music of they gypsies who live her and whom I am proud to share my country and and gifts I might have. I then go to abide with my woman Maggie and my brother Siddig from Sudan. A brave humble man who though well educated is not to good to deliver our food to us with love and a smile.
Practice with a mirror, practice with your back to them practice facing them, practice. Nay PLAY nicely, respect your body, know when to rest and when to turn your hands to other good works and also know that when you go to play with others who show such self respect you may only play beautifully.
THESE TIMES WILL PASS, as my madness leaves me now with this confession.
The man I stole most from was Jim, my father for he was magnificent on his instrument the accordion, as is my friend Angus who abided with me last night so I could be safe and my woman get the rest she needed from me.
With love, only ever love
Wee Davey Freel son of Jim, fae Mull.
Just another man for
'A being is a being for a that'