youngraven: (Default)
I'm working backwards through my days again. Well, not entirely backwards, but rather I'm having a few steps back in time.

'Cos I've said nothing at all about this thing. )

It's mine now. I've played it in two shows and one seisiun now. Cut for those bored by my animist bibbling )

It isn't as violently red as the photo would lead one to believe.

The way there - have I told this story already? I'd meant to do, only now I can't recall. Well, there's no sign of it in the archives, so I mustn't have done. Well, at any rate, I'd made mention above of Mallory and the ties that bind, right? So, I did that bit, and oddly enough, the drum maker to whom I'd written last November and had heard nothing from since writes to me.


So, I gave to him a list of qualities I find fetching in a bodhran, and he told me that he had one matching my description that could be altered a bit to suit my needs. Grand. Only I'm not content to have him drop it in the post, actually. I feel a strong need to put my hands on the thing before any palms are crossed with silver. This, of course, entailled me sending him yet another message requesting a meeting.

How good am I at this sort of thing, a chairde? Go on, have a guess. Sure, cutting a long and boring story short, the answer is not really. We all of us have our stumbling places. That's one of mine. Email, I can manage well enough, as it allows me to edit, delete, what have you. Only a sudden change in plans forced me to phone the bloke.

Eek. Shockhorror.

'Cos I've got the Clever, I copied down what I planned to say to him, and I prayed to something that he'd not answer the phone at all, but rather I could leave him that little message, word for word, in voicemail. Well, he didn't answer, but as I was about to begin the recitation, he phoned back.

Something in the quality of his voice startled me, and I babbled at him despite my preparation. We made new arrangements, no worries.

The following Monday, [ profile] shaddowshoes and myself drove down to meet him, and got our wires tangled in funny (now) knots. The both of us were absolutely assured that we knew what was to be, so neither of us actually checked with the other one on the trivial matter of where we would meet. Awkward moments ensued. Ah well, it isn't likely I'll ever actually see him again - he's going off to Denmark.

Inauspicious beginnings, really. What do you do, eh? After a maddeningly long drive, I've got a new bodhran - which is grand, and isn't likely to fall to bits anytime soon.


Jun. 12th, 2007 12:05 am
youngraven: (Default)
It's late, so I'll be brief, but first, a meme graciously donated by [ profile] peppermintkiss. Well, not exactly donated.

I should use a cut tag here. )

I wasn't wildly fond of 'Spanglish'. Tea Leoni's character drove me round the bend. What do you do, eh?
So, at the moment, I:
Am occupied by a large feline
Feel slightly less than glorious
Have got rather a nasty blister on the back of my left hand, lovingly bestowed upon me by my bodhran
Think my head may split in two

So. There it is.


Oct. 19th, 2006 09:46 pm
youngraven: (Hrm...)
Nicked from [ profile] bookwench

Why yes, I could be doing something more productive. )

My how educational that wasn't. I feel as though I'm cheating the world if I don't now provide a real entry. Only...I haven't got one. I've been remarkably lacking in words and impetus in recent weeks. Considering how often I make a statement to that effect, it's a wonder I can communicate at all. I think I'll invest in a couple of sticks, and something to pound with them.


So, speaking of bodhrans, I've nearly got the dosh to buy a new one. Hence the reason (oh dear, we're anthropomorphising again. How boring) my present one is giving me so much aggro. She knows she's soon to be replaced. Poor thing. Thrown over for some highborn expensive tart. This is really only amusing to me.

So...I found out last night that we'll not hear from NTIF as to whether we made the cut till November. So the cat in the box remains neither dead nor alive. I'm glad for that, I think. It means I can still hope. The demo I sent to the board was Interesting, so we'll see, won't we. Oh, and supposedly there's a Vote for Your Favouritest Ever Irish band on the Net someplace. I wonder whether we're eligible...
youngraven: (whack-fol-lol-de-ra)
Someday I'll get round to a proper update - preferably before the entire month of July goes by with nary a chronicle ('cos I'll forget what I've done if I don't mark it down somewhere).

However, that isn't now, so instead, I'm going to post something that [ profile] typsygypsy wrote for me:

Our very own Gypsy Youngraven, one of the shortest bodhran players in the D/FW metroplex, is playing with the Irish TIMES Band!

The next Irish TIMES Band performance is at Trinity Hall from 8-12 on Saturday, July 22nd. Players will include Christy and Gordon McLeod of Beyond the Pale, Mimi Rogers of Gallus, Gypsy Youngraven of Spriggan and Ken Fleming of Jigsaw. The Irish TIMES Band, with different members playing each time, performs to raise money for the Traditional Irish Music Education Society by donating its gig wages and tips. Come out and enjoy the music and support TIMES and the retreat! There is no cover charge.
youngraven: (whack-fol-lol-de-ra)
I haven’t made a seisiun post in aeons. The original thought was to make one after each seisiun. Ah well. I suppose some seisiunna are merely successions of choonz – and whereas I find that fascinating...

Marks down mental note to remember that she’s actually writing for herself, not the lot of youse...

Yeh, so at any rate, I arrived later than I’d wanted to do. I’d been making copies of DVD archives, and once the process (which takes a fair amount of time) is begun, it’s unwise to try to stop it.

We had quite the seisiun. Only one of the people who’s always there was missing – and we’d sprouted a new bodhrán player. Boing. This is always cause for a bit of tension. According to the Grand Rules of Seisiun Etiquette, there are certain instruments of which there Must Be Only One: pipes, guitars, and of course, bodhráns.

We haven’t got a piper – sure, it would be lovely, but the only piper of which I know is twelve years old. We have got, often, many guitarists. Perhaps it’s a bit of an aberration, but our guitarists know how to sort themselves out with minimal pulling of hair or dominance asserting.

Would that we bodhrán players were as even-keelled. Our poor seisiun instrument of choice, has over the years got rather a nasty reputation. There are some who even offer that bodhrán is the Irish for the instrument that everybody wishes to play, and yet nobody can. So, it’s not surprising that any drummer who wanders into a seisiun for the first time (unless s/he’s been invited) is met with a fair lot of scrutiny (‘cos we’ll not have you if you’re desperate – it’s harsh, but it’s true).

Fortunately, this fellow wasn’t desperate...a bit ingratiating, but likely that’s his way of clearing a space for himself. I’m not terribly ingratiating – that isn’t to say that I’m impolite or boorish, but rather I don’t walk into a new seisiun with the belief that if I act the beta dog, the alpha dogs won’t set upon me and rip me to shreds.

However, I do feel the need to prove myself to any drummer who wanders into my seisiun. It’s two parts Neurotic Fuckhead(tm) to three parts I Wish to Be Renowned. At least it’s balanced in the favour of winning a name for myself , eh?

So, I suppose I was playing a bit more flash than I usually do – but the other two fellows were kind enough to suffer me my bit of limelight snatching.

Jesus, it’s late. I should finish this quickly.

Here’s what I did: for the Silver Spear/Merry Blacksmith/Glass of Beer set, I played three bodhráns, a doumbek, and a practise snare. The other two fellows held them up before me so that I could strike them without dropping rhythm. See? Flash – and nobody pitched stones at me for cheek. We’re a kindly lot.

So, thus ends the craic. Now for the &c.


[ profile] typsygypsy had kept our bicycles at her house with the idea that we’d take them down to the ranch – only we didn’t do, ‘cos we were told that the ranch’s terrain dislikes a bicycle. So she brought them round to seisiun, and [ profile] shaddowshoes attached them to the rack on top of my car.

Erm...there was a tent in the car park – rather a large one, which usually isn’t there. Its presence made manoeuvring out of the car park a bit of a task. Too much of a task, really. In the space of time that it took for me to climb into my car and turn the key, I’d forgot about the bicycles. I’ll drive under the tent, I thought.

Grand idea. I’m sure you can work out the rest. At least the bloody tent didn’t fall, but my bike rack is bent and twisted on one side. Bah. I phoned the place where the rack was bought, and I’m going to have the car round to find out whether the broken parts can be repaired or replaced. Ah well, eh?


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