Twenty Twenty

/ About 2 min reading time

This year started with some darkness for me. Then I had the snip, which brought with it it’s own darkness and a couple of pretty uncomfortable months leading up to March. March.

We all know what happened in March but for me it was the start of something good. An idea led to a website knocked up in a couple of hours and a bit of social media marketing. In the first week of the national restrictions I held the first Lockdown Open Mic; a virtual alternative to the now closed pubs and clubs. In the forty-some weeks that have passed since, we’ve built a wonderful community of musicians and more importantly, friends. It’s been a tough time outside of those Tuesday night Zoom calls, but for the people who join, it’s an island in the week’s stormy sea.

I did a thirty mile walk and got blisters that prevented me from walking at all for a few weeks after.

We’ve had performers from across the UK, all over the US and Mainland Europe. The appeal of musical expression is real.

It’s brought on musicians early in their practice and transformed them into artists and songwriters. The creativity that flows from this collection astounds me.

We’ve helped and supported each other, celebrated and commiserated each other. There has been joy and their have been tears, and a group of strangers who, in the large part, have never met, have found a kinship that they will likely never forget.

I’ve not been untouched by the general air of negativity in the world. It’s been turbulent. So much dark cloud wherever we look is going to bring anyone down. But the silver linings make the clouds worthwhile. I leave 2020 in celebration, and with positive memories of wonderful times with new friends.

And I wrote a bunch of songs about love, sadness, alcohol, bins and a Christmas record about pebbles.