Winding around the world
Wind organs are a simple instrument that struggle in a noisy world
I learned how to make them from the website of Didier Ferment, which seems to be no longer online.
His experiments included describing the results of variations, such as:
A slit of 8 cm by 10 mm produces a deep sound except when the wind picks-up and brings the sound one octave higher.The idea of repurposing a plastic vessel to make a spooky sound was one of those wonderful discoveries of the early internet.
A slit of 11 cm by 9 mm gives a medium sound, relatively clear within a wide wind range as well in speed as in angle of attack.
A slit of 20 cm by 6 mm gives a shrill whistle but requires a very precise angle of attack of the wind.
A slit of 16 cm by 17 mm will deliver a hoarse sound.
It might've been 2008, as that's when I published my first recording (although it's a short and rough one, so be warned there's a lot of noise).
In 2020 I remembered the idea and thought it was worth sharing, so I made this instructional video.
One of the great things about sharing one's enthusiasms is getting that enthusiasm back again.
In recent weeks I've had a couple of comments on my instructional video from Ronald and have enjoyed seeing his creations.
Chase bliss where you find it
Recently I put a Chase Bliss sticker on my vacuum cleaner
While that adhesive message came with a guitar effects pedal, it captures something of my recent experience undertaking domestic duties.
My vacuum cleaner has been providing many weirdly joyful moments.
Last year I made the decision to stop buying paper bags for the Miele model that had been cleaning my homes for nearly 30 years.
It had seen my transition from being a university student living in government housing through to my third or fifth career and then co-owning my own home.
One thing I admired about it was the long steel tube that gave resonances to the particles being drawn into the bag.
There was a sense of satisfaction in feeling the work it was doing.
This is close to the pleasure that is even more pronounced when emptying a bagless vacuum cleaner.
Being able to observe the debris fill the clear plastic catcher is a strange form of positive reinforcement.
It has spurred me on to finding new areas of the house to clean.
First I was vacuuming mattresses, then couches.
Before long I found the brush attachment was good for taking the dust off the blinds that line our windows.
I'm now beginning to wonder if the vacuum might provide an equivalent amount of bliss as my guitar playing, although Chase Bliss Audio have been a part of that enthusiasm recently.
It's been said that nature abhors a vacuum, but I am really into mine.
They/them
Pronouns never interested me and now they make my conversations stumble
Perhaps this is a statement that reflects my age, but I'm prompted by seeing another friend declaring they are now them.
It brings to mind a funny exchange with my partner when the high school sent a letter home about one of my children.
My partner exclaimed that our offspring must have changed their pronouns as it referred to they and them.
There was a laugh when I realised the school had a letter template that moved beyond the unwieldy s/he and, with it, any reference to the concept of biological sex.
Anyway, I am happy for anyone to promote the language that best suits their identity.
It's one of those aspects of contemporary life that is so fascinating and warrants deeper reflection.
For example, recently I read this observation in an interview with poet Forrest Gander and it's given me a new appreciation for taking a non-binary label:
As people are choosing the pronoun “they” to represent themselves, it has occurred to me that beyond the specifically gendered notion of what that means… I think that we have to admit how much we’re composed of others and how much that “I” is changing constantly.
In our lives we assume many roles and very few of them have anything to do with gender.
Just as feminists rejected the idea of being defined by their marital status, I think there's an opportunity to embrace pluralism.
The identity that I hold as a parent often collides with the immature posturing that I adopt in social situations.
Increasingly that model of authority I have as an older human conflicts with the carefree attitudes I have been disinterested in maturing.
These have been strained by the role that I am learning to fill as a teacher, particularly if it involves keeping a straight face while disciplining colourful language.
Being they/them seems an authentic reflection of feeling that the roles assigned at birth don't capture the person you grow to be.
We each contain so many identities, possibly wearing different masks to do so, which means it's a great step for society to embrace this kind of pluralism.
If that's "woke" then I'm happy to be awake!
There is a further dimension to recognising plurality and it goes beyond our roles or even the binaries with which they are usually framed.
In his book Entangled Life the author Merlin Sheldrake describes human as composite beings:
...we all inhabit bodies that we share with a multitude of microbes without which we could not grow, behave and reproduce as we do. [...] A growing number of studies have made a link between animal behaviour and the millions of bacteria and fungi that live in their guts, many of which produce chemicals that influence animal nervous systems.Maybe, in addition to redefining the notion of the individual, we also need to reconsider freewill?
It takes The Village People to raise a child
If there's one thing that I like about Donald Trump it has to be his enthusiasm for The Village People
It reminds me how 'Gloria' by Laura Branigan was used by Alan Jones, the conservative radio "personality" who opened his show with the song but defined himself as a disgrace for agitating for violence in the lead up to the Cronulla race riot of 2005.
Anyway, before we get into that sort of ugliness behind the tunes, who can't help but be moved by the Village People's well-crafted hits?
The sight of him dancing to their gay disco music something that I find myself enjoying about the recently re-elected US President.
I am of the option that it takes cultural forces like the Village People to raise a child and will share my own here.
When The Empire Strikes Back arrived at cinemas in 1980 (or maybe 1981 in Australia), I was seven years old.
That film doesn't remain in my memory for reasons that I'll explain, but it was impossible to avoid the impact of George Lucas' franchise through my childhood.
Many, many hours were played with figurines in the likeness of characters from the Star Wars universe.
In fact, I recall getting my first lesson about sex from watching my cousin acting it out with a Princess Leia figurine.
Before getting to the disco, I remember the triumphant feeling of leaving the first Star Wars movie about three years earlier.
While I would've been four I remember ascending the stairs from Canberra's Civic cinema with a feeling of excitement.
It was the same screen where I saw the original James Bond movie Dr No around the same time.
Maybe I'd had a birthday, because I came into possession of a Han Solo hand-blaster that I put into my little orange lunchbox and remember pretending to be the famed British spy while being babysat.
So when the sequel to Star Wars arrived a few years later I was enthusiastic to see it.
However, I wasn't alone.
The first opportunity to watch the Empire film came while I was being babysat by my aunt, who lived in Sydney.
All through my youth the movies released would be staggered and it wasn't something I really understood until I was writing film reviews while at university.
There was a limit on how many screens could show a new release film that was determined by the number of physical copies of the movie.
So films would arrive in Australia and screen in the state capitals, like Sydney, before moving on to the regional centres, like my hometown of Canberra.
The new Star Wars movie was hugely anticipated and, when my aunt asked about seeing a film, quickly became the focus of our plans.
I think we might've gone to the cinemas in George Street and joined the queue leading toward the box office.
At the point of buying tickets where we learned there was only one available and three of us needed seats.
The next screening was going to be too late for a seven- or eight-year old.
Since we had travelled into the city and didn't want the trip to be wasted, my aunt and her friend asked what else was showing.
Although I've seen the film a number of times now, I still remember how quickly my disappointment shifted as Steve Guttenberg roller-skated through New York streets singing along to 'The Sound of the City'.
It would be a couple of years later that I gravitated toward the Police Academy movies from that familiarity with Guttenberg, but it's interesting now to see his resemblance to Jacques Morali.
Morali was the producer who developed The Village People concept and shaped their material:
While in New York, Morali attended a costume ball at "Les Mouches", a gay disco in Greenwich Village. Seeing the types of costumes and some common ensembles worn by the party guests, the idea came to him to put together a group of singers and dancers, each one playing a different gay fantasy figure.
While Princess Leia might've acted out those early lessons in sex education, it was the pneumatic way Perrine's breasts appeared to float in a hot tub in The Village People movie that might have been the moment that I knew I was straight.
It seems ironic in hindsight that a camp movie celebrating gay subculture gave me this personal insight.
Now that I read about Perrine I can appreciate her figure has played an influential role in the representation of American sexuality.
She is credited as the first actress to appear nude on American network television by intentionally exposing her breasts during a PBS broadcast in 1973.
Can't Stop The Music is a musical biopic that reflects a version of history through the lens of what was considered palatable for a mainstream audience at the time it was produced.
This is to describe that the film fails to capture accuracy, but as a musical shows the kind of fantasy where characters burst into song and sets change to show desires beyond the scope of reality.
It's the kind of energy and representation that offers relief for those who are unhappy and reflects a kind of delirious enthusiasm totally in line with the crowds I see surrounding Trump.
Even though there's a dissonance between the increasingly overt homosexuality that a contemporary audience recognises in The Village People and the conservative Christian ideology that's defined the US Republican movement since around the time that the film was released.
It's that dissonance which defines our post-truth and "fake news" era, where so much doesn't make sense while explosions of colour (or colourful rhetoric) provide distractions.
Just as the film Can't Stop The Music glossed over the details that defined its origins to sell more records for The Village People, we're seeing their music continuing to be used by businessmen to dazzle audiences.
Love my spuds
Still amazes me that half a spud is considered a serve of vegetables.
Giving the finger
Late last year I was pulling up the grass that grows around the house and thinking that I should be wearing gloves
I thought it must be one of those spider bites that I've had from pulling up the grass.
Then it continued.
The feeling was more of a burning sensation and within the finger.
It seemed inconsistent though, like not always aching and there was no visible sign on the skin of a bite or redness.
Recently I consulted Dr Google and, while I don't put too much faith in getting the conclusive answer, the results suggested my ache might be early arthritis.
I am surprised it's in my left hand, although I did switch to using that finger for mouse-clicking after getting a raised bump on the tendon that runs along the back of my right hand.
This is the finger I also rely on for fingering the deep notes on my bass guitars.
At present it aches when I bend the finger so the first joint comes down past the second, which means it's mostly noticeable as I make a fist.
However, it's a little reminder that I'm getting old and joins a knee in triggering a kind of "go slow" response.
These are things that I find more confronting than spending time around small children at school.
It might make me reflect on my behaviour though, and stop the tendency I have to join in their games and activities.
Feels like getting old, I guess.
An incomplete known
The
popularity of the biopic can be traced back to the first feature-length
film, The Story of the Kelly Gang (1906). It feels as though in recent
years this genre has gained pace and I suspect that it is the format
through which an increasing audience engages with historical narratives,
which make sense of contemporary times.
When I
was at university my interest in studying history came from the film
studies major that carried me through my first undergraduate degree. The
unit called History On Film forced me to sit through Forrest Gump
(1994) and allowed me to write an essay on The Elephant Man (1980),
which was an early David Lynch movie that impacted me as a child. That
latter film was analysed through the lens of narrative to show how it
referenced Mary Shelley's Frankenstein story, for example.
Storytelling
has always drawn on the significance of other narratives to give
meaning and resonances and there are so many ways, from explicit
acknowledgment through to allusions or Shakespeare's famous plays within
plays. Soundtracks are also employed to great effect and there are
songs that have become cliches in movie trailers from overuse in
creating meaning. The musical biopic uses these techniques with the
added benefit of blurring diegetic and nondiegetic songs, through having
music performed by characters transformed into overtures.
An
aspect of storytelling in contemporary films, particularly those
influenced by Hollywood, has been a preoccupation with structure and, I
think, biopics often suffer from feeling like they've put a lifetime of
experiences into a mold like a biscuit-cutter to give them a certain
shape from the pacing of emotional beats. Academy Award-winning
screenwriter Michael Arndt has discussed a structure that is widely used
beyond biopics to create a satisfying ending through linking character
and contextual arcs —although, I'm not going to elaborate too much on
that here.
It does a good job of
explaining the outrage that accompanied Dylan's move to electric
instruments at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965, although I get the
impression from reading reviews from younger viewers that this is
possibly not as remarkable these days. In the film you already see
Johnny Cash performing with accompaniment from an electric guitar.
In
some ways I think the film's focus on concluding with Newport fails
to achieve those arcs mentioned earlier for character and their context.
Maybe this is part of what led one reviewer to write that the film
"lacks purpose," which surprised me as I found it gave me a new
appreciation for what Brian Eno calls the "scenius" -- where the milieu
of an artist becomes a focus, rather than the individual.
In
the cinematic version of Dylan's origins a good deal of the events
shown include those roles played by Joan Baez and a Sylvie Russo, who is
largely based on Suze Rotolo and she was significant for politicising
the folk singer. It's hard to imagine that a song like 'Blowin' In The
Wind' could've pushed his career along without either of these women.
It's their place in the film that prompted me to write, as I think the
equivalent of the Frankenstein moment in The Elephant Man is a bit early
on where Dylan and Russo/Rotolo discuss Picasso. The film could have
shown that Dylan made his own visual art in the 1960s, but I feel the
brief reference to the famous Spaniard is highlighting how we view that
painter's career through the influence of his muses.
A
Complete Unknown is a fun film and I found the music particularly good.
It left me feeling like clapping throughout! In particular I thought Ed
Norton brought a great dad-like energy in his role as Pete Seeger.
There weren't many people at the screening I attended, so go see it soon
if you want the cinema experience.
Worlds within worlds
Some years ago my partner made a prediction that, as the natural world declines, people would retreat into virtual worlds
At the time I had an image that would involve wearing goggles and living among pixels.
For
example, recently I was in a public library working on an assignment
and it amazed me how many times people would have a conversation on
their phone.
Right there in the middle of the
area where a librarian would glare and even silence people with a finger
to their lips or utter "Shush!"
Yet there I was listening to personal details, at least that's what I could discern from those speaking English.
It's something that came to mind as I pondered an article about Spotify recently:
Then again, there are many companies claiming to sell food that has been demonstrated as hazardous to health.
A doctor once told me there was more nutritional value in the packaging of a popular fast food brand.
Clothes peg
Yesterday I was bringing in the washing and dropped a clothes peg
Over the years I've gotten a lot better at throwing the pegs into their container as I bring in the clothes.
In so many backyards I have honed my skill at landing these items within various repurposed containers.
I remembered when I was younger a scattering of clothes pegs around the ice-cream bucket used to hold them between washes.
There used to be a handful of them that missed when I collected the washing at my Father's home.
I recall that the washing lines of shared houses was where I began to hone my skills.
Sometimes the ice-cream buckets were bigger, then my in-laws had a metal container that was narrow -- so maybe that helped in my development too.
However, yesterday I realised how long it'd been since I dropped a peg outside their container.
It struck me how, even without trying, the repetition had contributed to developing this somewhat useful skill.
Then I began to wonder what I might be able to achieve if I consciously applied myself to practicing something each week.
Or even if I took moments during the day to chuck pegs at a small target.
Obviously I could be a bit more ambitious but that seems like a place to start.
Dylan still chillin'
Last year my son started listening to Bob Dylan
It followed from playlists of Dr John, which apparently had my teenager badged on Spotify as the late musician's number one fan.
I know Dylan is having another of his moments at present with the biopic movie, but my son was ahead of that news.
I also know that I got interested in Dylan when I was a little older than my teen is now, when I wrote a 10000 word essay for my English class in 1991.
Anyway, it was still surprising that the usual pop hiphop like Kanye and Kendrick Lamar had shifted to music older than me.
On the weekend my youngest and I were talking about the author SE Hinton, as he'd recently enjoyed The Outsiders and I'd given him Rumblefish for Christmas, and I had an idea.
There's an interview with the author where she's asked why her books are so successful and continue to be assigned to high school English classes.
Hinton recognised that she was still young at the time it was written and still had some of the idealism of youth, which resonated authentically with her audience.
Now it's left me wondering if that's part of the appeal for some of that enduring music from earlier decades?
Advice for artists
Do you talk with your elected representatives?
It led to a Community Recognition Statement about a CASP grant from years ago and Mum was chuffed to come along to the morning tea where this photo was taken.
We know the arts need more recognition, so consider sending your MP an email next time you're promoting a project.
Thanks David Lynch
If there's a silver-lining to waking up to a newsfeed talking about the death of a hero it is the opportunity to read more about them
I was 16 when I read about Wild At Heart and convinced my cousin that we should see it rather than use a fake ID to buy alcohol.
The terrors in Lynchian nights were so dark, yet somehow you get to walk away from those dreamy scenes feeling like everything is going to be okay.
Sacrificing children
Hard to believe that we're in the fifth year of a global pandemic
One of the things that worries me about becoming a teacher is that Australian children are mostly unvaccinated against Covid-19.
When you hear people describing this potentially fatal disease as a "spicy cough" it shows we're not taking it seriously.
I feel the Australian government has failed its 'duty of care' by using commissioned reports to drive policy decisions, rather than basing decisions like "living with the virus" on the advice of medical experts.
Thanks to Nick for sharing this information.
Kojo yakei
One of the things I like about my suburb is the industrial aesthetics mingling with gum trees
So I'm excited by the Japanese term ‘kojo yakei’ meaning "factory night view" that has become a tourism phenomenon:
This could be a project for me in 2026, I think.
Each blending is a new beginning
These days I can’t buy a takeaway because it hurts too much to pay for an unsatisfying brew.
The result is that I experiment with blending beans and find that the lesson of complementing hard and soft characteristics holds as true for coffee as it does for wine or microphones.
Tan lines
My tan lines are one measure that might be regrettable, but I did two consecutive lengths of butterfly today and feel that satisfying swollen tenderness.
Floral pedals
Anyway, I'm a fan. It's great to see this idea blooming!
Christopher Haworth Strictly Plein Air
Looking forward to seeing Christopher Haworth's solo exhibition
He's a plein air painter who spends a lot of time in the Riverina landscape, which leads to many observations about regional life.
The video above shares some of his creative practise and was part of the Ngurrambang exhibition that I curated at Griffith Regional Art Gallery, where he's now holding his first solo show.
Slice of the pie
Given
that Spotify offers very little financial return on investment for most
musicians, you've got to wonder why it's being used to judge the
success of local Australian artists.
This is the experience of Emmet Prime:
Peak industry association Music SA had used the Spotify metrics to evaluate which bands to include on a line-up:
To get any financial recognition from Spotify you need to stream past a threshold of a minimum number of
times your content has been heard, but you also need to get past the
number of phantom musicians whose content is crowding out original
music.
Critics like Ted Gioia have pointed out
there's an increasing number of shadow artists padding out the material
on Spotify and it's not clear if it's a further inequity for musicians
trying to be heard.
So it seems inappropriate
for an organisation promoting music with South Australia to rely on a
company that is not in the business of promoting these kinds of bands and musicians.
There probably are questions to explore on the role of metrics in decision-making for an organisation and it's here that Spotify looks like a potential benchmark.
Succumb
Summer is here and I've been succumbing to ice-cream
Sometimes a scoop goes well in a coffee too, particularly if you add extra milk.
It's a simple approach and feels in balance with the rest of my diet, I like to think.
Then I started looking at the varieties of ice-cream in those freezer cabinets and suddenly my tastes aren't so vanilla.
There are two in particular that appear when my mind turns to visiting the supermarkets.
At the European brand shop there's a Magnum-style knock-off that's white chocolate with raspberries.
(I know white chocolate isn't really chocolate but it melts better for not having the paste-like character of cocoa.)
The tartness of the raspberry is easily overcome by the vanilla and then the sweet hit of that sweetened condensed (misnomered) chocolate.
This same brand with a NZ-sounding name that I can't remember also has a passionfruit ice-cream but the second ice-cream I've been enjoying most is the one pictured.
It's nuts and outrageous, just like it says.
There's really no stopping once I hit a seam of the caramel that runs between crunchy peanuts and different flavours of ice-cream.
Otherwise I'll run the spoon around the edge of the packaging where it's melting and the sundae all blends together like a gritty sticky mouthful.
I can feel my brain doing these cartwheels while I'm eating it.
The peanuts probably aren't appropriate for everyone, but if you need to grab an epipen then consider giving it a go.
Vice-versa
Sometimes the Disquiet Junto projects really surprise me
There have been many examples over the years, such as the "layered sameness" exercise that led to a revelation when I heard all the takes together.
It was the "switch back" direction to "Make the quiet part loud, and vice-versa."
Listening back to it now and I'm surprised at how much I enjoy the spaciousness around the instruments.
I can hear a place that I'd like to visit again.
Are you chicken?
I have simple tastes, so one of my favourite things is finding the chicken has been discounted at the local supermarket
Their chicken is often given a marinade, either southern style or honey and soy.
They're both good and I like the wings best, but they also have good deals on unseasoned meat too.
Our town doesn't have a KFC, some swear by the Golden Chicken but I think the IGA supermarket has great fast food.
Okay, it takes an hour or so to cook but it's fresh.
In
fact, the chicken was likely from the nearby town of Hanwood, where the
largest chicken processing facility in the southern hemisphere is
operating.
If you drive that way to Griffith, you can see there are many chicken farms in the region.
It's
actually an interesting story about how a boy named Peter Bartter
started a business with 100 birds and sold eggs to local restaurants.
Along the way they built an empire and you can still recognise a lot of their farms by the oleander bushes planted out front.
New year new
Made this poem from my senryu/microjournal habit
The creative prompt shared by Naviar Records led me to revisit a process from previous years.
I sampled my daily writing practise, then quickly recorded a reading to go with a piece of music.
The words are below, since you can't really hear them:
Clear a space for truth
put demons on the table
we all have monsters
The familiar
our lived experiences
we never escape
Preoccupation
knowing unmentionables
hiding maligned forms
In these descriptions
old paraphernalia
wrestling for new life
Anchored ideas
peppered onto bathroom walls
I read the comments
My steps unbalanced
finding a new way forward
these steep learning curves
Personal essays
images that resonate
using metaphors
It leaves me beaten
along branches of wisdom
stick with what I know
Dulled by the moment
anything is possible
love profound boredom
Title on the door
master procrastinator
holds me to account
I don’t play tennis
when the ball is in my court
I’m hitting it back
The role I’ve taken
allowed to fully occupy
where I’m meant to be
Sometimes giving up
letting loose parts of myself
and it’s positive
I’ve backed myself in
wet paint around the corners
I’ll spend some time here
A love of the thing
not really a career
expert of nothing
Enjoy the journey
it’s different for everyone
like so much guidance
put demons on the table
we all have monsters
The familiar
our lived experiences
we never escape
Preoccupation
knowing unmentionables
hiding maligned forms
In these descriptions
old paraphernalia
wrestling for new life
Anchored ideas
peppered onto bathroom walls
I read the comments
My steps unbalanced
finding a new way forward
these steep learning curves
Personal essays
images that resonate
using metaphors
It leaves me beaten
along branches of wisdom
stick with what I know
Dulled by the moment
anything is possible
love profound boredom
Title on the door
master procrastinator
holds me to account
I don’t play tennis
when the ball is in my court
I’m hitting it back
The role I’ve taken
allowed to fully occupy
where I’m meant to be
Sometimes giving up
letting loose parts of myself
and it’s positive
I’ve backed myself in
wet paint around the corners
I’ll spend some time here
A love of the thing
not really a career
expert of nothing
Enjoy the journey
it’s different for everyone
like so much guidance
interpretations vary
so I guess words will travel
Robust narratives
explaining our lives away
it’s not magical
Without little words
sensibly made into thoughts
would I know myself
Finding small spaces
unused outlooks on the day
to make a window
My opacity
hiding in the everyday
beliefs are porous
We can save those gifts
people don't want those insights
lies are easier
We hold opinions
underestimate vastly
how truths destroy us
That crushing feeling
to hold a sensitive heart
wishing it weren’t mine
Something in my chest
resonates with emotion
reciting your words
It’s the easy thing
seeing only what I know
can you really blame me?
A slippery slope
I can go down a wormhole
lose myself a while
These are summaries
so when revisiting them
I'll find my own words
Thinking of my poems
as conversation partners
go let them mingle
We sometimes struggle
as our own brand of magic
fails to charm ourselves
Sometimes I’ll look back
some will say I’m different
but it’s just I’ve grown
Through a world of sound
the only filter I have
my discerning ear
Scanning the dial
your radio call signal
I’m the antenna
so I guess words will travel
Robust narratives
explaining our lives away
it’s not magical
Without little words
sensibly made into thoughts
would I know myself
Finding small spaces
unused outlooks on the day
to make a window
My opacity
hiding in the everyday
beliefs are porous
We can save those gifts
people don't want those insights
lies are easier
We hold opinions
underestimate vastly
how truths destroy us
That crushing feeling
to hold a sensitive heart
wishing it weren’t mine
Something in my chest
resonates with emotion
reciting your words
It’s the easy thing
seeing only what I know
can you really blame me?
A slippery slope
I can go down a wormhole
lose myself a while
These are summaries
so when revisiting them
I'll find my own words
Thinking of my poems
as conversation partners
go let them mingle
We sometimes struggle
as our own brand of magic
fails to charm ourselves
Sometimes I’ll look back
some will say I’m different
but it’s just I’ve grown
Through a world of sound
the only filter I have
my discerning ear
Scanning the dial
your radio call signal
I’m the antenna
It seems obvious
that lozenge rhymes with orange
but maybe that’s me
that lozenge rhymes with orange
but maybe that’s me
Mechanical massage
Not sure where this massage machine came from
The rubber skin covers a series of mechanical fingers that work up and down either side of the spine.
This means that you can position yourself for it to focus on areas that need massaging, but it's weird.
Usually when I am receiving a massage I will be moaning and thanking the person.
So it's embarrassing to be trying to hold my pleasure in as my family goes about their days around me.
There as I am writhing and gasping, the machine whirs and I'm left feeling like I'm using a vibrator at the dining table.
It surprises me how the motorised noises contrast with the sensations and thrills.
Foot rubs
One evening last year, for no particular reason, I thought to ask my partner if she'd like her feet rubbed
After attending to both her feet, she reciprocated by rubbing my feet in turn.
I didn't think much about it until afterwards, when she said we should do this more often.
At that time I remember thinking that I felt my feet get rubbed when I have a bath and that's all good.
So
I was surprised within a few days when the topic of rubbing feet came
around again and this time she was saying it should happen every night.
It seemed remarkable that after living together for decades, we've found something new other than the occasional TV series.
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