March has finally rolled around and with it comes the first month of spring. We find ourselves with winter at our backs (at least in theory) and move onward into the promise of warm breezes and clear skies, or at the very least, slightly warmer rain. Spring is a time of new beginnings as the world awakens from its slumber, flowers spring into bloom, trees throw on a new coat of leaves and bird song fills the air. With daylight growing ever longer with each passing day there world seems so much more vital and real, as if everything we knew and saw in winter was a slightly fuzzy photograph; a slideshow of frozen moments in time. It makes you want to go outside and just be.
Last March we went for a walk. It’s good to get outside and feel the world beneath your feet, to stretch your legs and set out to see just where the road will take you. I think we should all go for Another Walk.
I have spent the last few weeks stewing in a soup of my own stress. A relentless assault of bills, complications, inconveniences, irritations and down right vexation. It has not been a good month in that respect. But there is always tomorrow and there is always music. My days have been balmed by the electro tones of the Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories. This was partnered with the mind-bending New Age soundscapes of Mike Oldfield’s Songs of Distant Earth. They have kept me within the tenuous boundaries of sanity. It is quite fitting considering the theme of this month. For how else do you listen to music if not through a Music Box.
May. A month of dancing round poles and the subsequent phallic symbolism such an act invokes. A month of two sweet and solid bank holidays; the last before a drought that save for a brief respite in late August will last until the end of the year. Summer’s not quite here yet. I can sense it though, just around the corner, just waiting for a chance to start flaunting its heat. But with that heat there is the promise of cider, beer gardens and nights as clear and crisp as cut glass. And with the burgeoning swell of summer comes the desire to throw open all your windows and crank the stereo all the way to eleven and let music fill the air. And that leads us, by an unwieldy and overly circuitous route to May’s Pictonaut Challenge: Music Box.