charles barrow's writing

I've been watching the blackbirds in my garden; male, female and baby. All three rush around the lawn, searching for worms. The juvenile is learning the ropes from its parents. Soon the parents will stop feeding it, and it'll have to fly off and find its own territory. I sometimes see the male blackbird, on a high branch in the plane tree in the street outside, or sitting on top of the freshly trimmed hedge that divides street from garden. I do hear him singing some evenings, a loud, melodious, full throated song, designed to carry through the thick woodlands, wherein these birds used to live. Thick woodlands are no longer as common as they were, so my blackbird lives in a hedged around garden, and sings a song that is now a little extra for his surroundings. It's said to be good luck if a blackbird nests near your house. And in Celtic mythology a blackbird is believed to be one of the three oldest animals in creation, the first bird. The other two creatures are the stag an...

I once read a review of a Billie Holliday album, and the reviewer wrote, 'She sang, and singing was never the same again.' That, right there in a nutshell, is how I feel about Kate Bush. The first time I heard Wuthering Heights on the radio it rocked me back on my heels, and it still does. The Kick Inside was released in 1978, and I've bought every new album she's put out since then, and I haven't done that with any other artist. In 1979, I saw her play live three times at the Hammersmith Odeon in London. T he third concert was a benefit gig, at the end of her tour, in which she performed jointly with Peter Gabriel and Steve Harley. In 1980, I queued for hours outside HMV, Oxford St, to get my copy of her latest album, Never Forever, signed. I eventually made it inside the store, and to within 20 feet of her, and had to give up my place in the queue and leave, I can't remember why but I kick myself (inside and outside) now. Kate Bush fans have to be patient you ...

Kate Bush is all over the media at the moment, and for good reason, she's Kate Bush goddamit, and she's also doing her first live shows in 35 years. I'm sorry not to have tickets but I did see her 3 times on her first time around. Now, in amongst all the media coverage I picked up that Kate had said she's no longer keen on a song she wrote, way back, called Oh England My Lionheart. This is crushing news. It's one of my favourite tracks. It often winds itself, like ivy, around my brain and stays for days. It's a hymn to England, referencing Shakespeare, the Thames, the Tower of London, London Bridge and Peter Pan, amongst other things, all in a haunting melody. What do you do when one of your idols no longer likes a piece of their own work that you very much admire? What a dilemma.

Recently I sat down to watch a Sci-fi film called The Wall. That's all the info that the TV listings magazine gave me. It gave the film three stars. Perfect, I thought, and hoped for a brainless romp with aliens and big explosions. What I got was a subtitled, Austrian-German mood piece called Die Wand (dir Julian Polsler). It wasn't at all what I thought I was buying into. Twice in the first 15 minutes I reached for the remote control and twice I put it down again. The film drew me in slowly, and held me, and it's stayed with me since. I've just opened A Farewell to Arms by Ernest Hemingway, a book that has been gathering dust on my shelf. I chose it over a detective novel that would have been a familiar and easy read. I'm assuming the Hemingway will be more of a challenge, or at least take more of my focus, but I'm certain it'll live longer in my memory. I'm not the first to realise that indulging in quality creative works by top draw exponents is v...