NaBloPoMo Day 1 - Inspiration

Inspiration is a funny old thing. It can come from the most unlikely (or indeed, the most likely) of places. Sometimes it even seems like inspiration is ganging up on you; different sources of inspiration banding together to corner you until you submit. As is the case in this instance.

For a while now, I have been following the escapades of Erica Lucke Dean, a wonderful up-and-coming chick-lit writer from Atlanta, who posts a daily blog. To my shame, I am a little bit behind and need to catch up on the last week or so, but her posts almost always amuse me, make me think, or make me smile and it is with a measure of jealousy that I view her blogging regularity. I find it a challenge to remember to brush my teeth every day, so writing a blog every day is an achievement I have often felt envious of.

My Dad, of course, is a huge inspiration in so many aspects of my life, but recent contact with an old school friend has reunited him with his muse and for the first time since my brother died, the creative juices are flowing. My parents have been on holiday for the last couple of weeks in Vietnam (a part of the world that I would love to visit) and every day he has made time to write a thousand or so words of his 'Vietnam Diary', which he emailed to me whenever he had reliable Internet access. I have particularly enjoyed joining them for the ups (27th floor of the Royal Orchid Sheraton Towers in Bangkok) and downs (Dad falling off a bike in Saigon, or Mum nealy ending up in the Mekong) of their voyage, but the real gem has been reading the final few days in the 'Mancheater Diary' when I get to see my life and surroundings through another's eyes.

Finally, I have mentioned before about the friend of at least ten years that I have not yet met. Aaron DeLay is a Denver resident that I met digitally when he joined my role-playing / PBeM / writing group years ago. Although the group has long since disbanded, I have kept in touch with a fair few of the members, including Aaron. He is a young stroke survivor, talented writer and keen photographer. And it was he that added that final level of inspiration to join NaBloPoMo (interNational Blog Posting Month) for October.

So here endeth the first post. I wil TRY to get into a good habit, even if it is just for October, and do justice to the various writers that have inspired me over the last few weeks.

Sing Live!

Blog posts have been a bit thin on the ground recently. A busy work schedule will do that to you because there's nothing worse than coming home after ten hours at a computer to sit in front of another computer! So, here I am, wondering what to write about. There's a few things in the news right now that interest me - or irriatate me - but nothing seemed to flow right. Then it occurred to me that I've done some pretty cool stuff recently and not mentioned any of it!

Think back seven weeks (has it really been that long?!?!) what were you doing? I was busy making final preparations to perform at the Bridgewater Hall in Manchester: hair, make-up, dress, shoes, hair again, organising water bottles and snacks, more hair faffing... The day mostly involved a lot of hanging around and waiting. Mostly due to the fact that half the band got 'lost' on their way to the Hall. Eventually, however, we had enough brass to get started on the technical call - our first rehearsal with the incredible National Festival Orchestra Big Band. I have been to 'The Bridge' a couple of times with my folks. We heard the BBC Phil performing Beethoven's choral symphony in December last year and then Greig's piano concert and Fingal's Cave (one of my most favourite pieces of orchestral music) earlier this year. But I was totally unprepared to step out onto the choir circle for the first time. Looking out over the empty auditorium from the 'other side' was amazing, nevermind when the band struck up and everyone started to sing. That single moment was almost better than the performance itself. Especially since the second time I stepped out on the choir circle I felt my stomach physically lurch as the empty seats were suddenly filled with bums and eager faces were staring back at us all. Not to mention my looney mates in the back row waving like nutters! Fortunately, any nervousness was relatively short lived. In fact most of the show is a bit of a blur. I remember it being very hot - this was right in the middle of the heat wave - and I remember my feet hurting... a lot! But the whole experience was awesome.

So awesome, in fact, that on July 26th I did it all again on the Bandstand in Kensington Gardens!

We did a selection of music from the Bridgewater Hall and this time around it wasn't just people from Greater Manchester, but we were joined by fellow choir members from Merseyside and the North East. It was a long day and we spent most of it on a very uncomfortable coach, interspersed with walking. We had a bit of time in London before the performance so Steve and I went for a wander around Harrods, which is only a 20 minute walk to Kensington Gardens. Needless to say, we didn't buy anything, but if it was possible to get a mortgage on a £135,000 set of speakers we would have! Steinway apear to make some stunning audio systems as well as stunning pianos! If anything, I enjoyed the performance at Kensington Gardens even more than the Bridgewater hall, simply because I was much more relaxed and we could see the enjoyment on the faces of our audience. But this show was special to me as well, because the 26th of July would have been my brother's birthday. He brought music to my life as I was growing up because he had an infectious passion for it. Plus his stereo, TV and keyboard were always turned up full blast so the house constantly shook. When he died our house became oddly silent. This concert on his birthday was a great way for me to celebrate and remember his life.

One other cool thing about the trip to London was seeing the Royal Albert Hall in the 'flesh'. The R.A.H. looks out over Kensington Gardens and it's the venue for my next performance, which will be on September 27th, and will be hosted by Judith Chalmers. The choir will consist of around 800 people from the UK and America and we'll be performing songs from the musicals of the stage and silver screen. I can't wait! Tomorrow we're having a big rehearsal in Halifax, so it will be an early start for me.

So as you can see, I have been bitten by some sort of crazy singing bug. But what makes all this possible is the fantastic group of people behind Sing Live. The company motto is "Ordinary People Doing Extraordinary Things In Exciting Places". I am just about as ordinary as anyone else and I'll soon be singing at the Royal Albert Hall. If that doesn't fulfill their motto I'm not sure what will... maybe St Peter's Basilica in the Vatican next year!

Sam Puttick

How much tragedy can one family bear? Clearly, only so much.

After just eighteen months of a normal healthy life, Sam Puttick was seriously injured in a near fatal car accident. He spent nine months in hospital before he was able to return home but would, sadly, be paralysed from the neck down for the rest of his life, requiring 24 hour care. His parents, Neil and Kazumi, spent every moment from then on doing everything they could to give Sam the very best life they could. On Friday 29th May 2009, Sam Puttick, aged just five years old, died from Meningitis at his home in Wiltshire. Shortly thereafter, striken with grief and unable to face a world without their little boy, Sam's Mum and Dad made the 140 mile trip to Beachy Head where they threw themselves off a 400ft cliff with the body of their beloved son in a backpack.

When I was nineteen my brother, David, died very suddenly. He was born with Spinabifida and Hydrocephalus. He was paralysed from the waist down and suffered brain damage as a result of the excess fluid on his brain. My Mum and Dad did their very best to give him a superior quality of life, nurturing his incredible gifts and overcoming his disability one day at a time. He was a wonderful person: musically talented, happy, funny, loving (and perhaps just a little too overprotective of his 'baby' sister!) My childhood is defined by hundreds of wonderful memories of the best family life anyone could hope for. My life since he passed away has been redefined by those same memories and by the gaping hole that his absence leaves in its wake.

For our family, life went on: Mum and Dad have literally travelled around the world (they are touring India at the moment) and we have continued to share many happy memories. But when one person is at the heart of your entire life and the centre of your whole world, it can be unbearable to think of anything beyond the immense weight of your sorrow. In just five short years Neil and Kazumi Puttick enjoyed the joy of raising a child. They almost lost their son to an accident, were given a second chance which they grabbed with both hands, only to then lose him again a few years later. Clearly, this was more tragedy than they were able to face.

This post is dedicated to all the very special people that make life worth experiencing - no matter how long or short that experience, or their contribution to it, is.

David, you made my life richer and happier than it could have ever been without you. I miss you every day. Your girl forever. xxx