Tag: writing

Still singing…

I’ve said before, it’s not all about the performance…

It’s about the act of singing, together.

However, at the end of each term, ”Global Harmony,” the choir I sing with, compiles a concert, and it’s always a very enjoyable event. We’ve got two coming up in June!

20th June South Croxton, 26th June Melton Mowbray

But, it’s not all about the performance; it’s about the act of singing together. The whole thing’s bigger than the sum of its parts. Singing with these fine folk is a privilege.

Global Harmony choir sings a dynamic variety of world music in a fun, friendly, informal environment; songs that celebrate diverse cultures and the joy of singing. Exciting rhythms of Africa, stirring Eastern European harmonies, songs from around the world.

I started singing with Global Harmony in 2008! They are an a cappella community choir that aims to sing truly from the heart, and as such, they don’t use sheet music in practice or performance. See Natural Voice Network for more info – as they say, “celebrating the voice you were born with, rather than trying to train it to an ideal of perfection”.

The act of singing releases endorphins, the brain’s ‘feel-good’ chemicals. Singing in front of and essentially with others can be even more rewarding.

Singing is arguably a primal action, to express oneself in song – pre-language. It could be said that habitual structured language might even inhibit essential expression, feeling, thought, and being.

Singing requires deeper breathing. Singing can have some of the same effects as exercise. It’s an aerobic activity: more oxygen into the blood, better circulation, and helps with a “good” mood.

Many studies have found that after people take part in singing, over time, there are significant decreases in both anxiety and depression levels, and that habitual singers find that singing plays a central role in their psychological health. Singing requires attention; it’s hard to worry about work or money or family problems when you’re actively engaged in singing.

The pre-language primal song, of course, was a group social activity – the war chant, the rain dance, singing down the mine, cries from the plantation, the pub singalong, traditional church singing, celebrations, “happy birthday to you” – realisation that you are one of a group, identification, belonging, sharing…

Anyway, I’ve started to waffle!

Perhaps you might come along and join us on one Monday night? You’d be very welcome!

Or come along and experience a performance – as I say, there are two performances in June!

Check the website for more details: globalharmony.org.uk

20th June at South Croxton, 26th June at Melton Mowbray.

Tags Art, mental-health, music, singing, writing

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Good for you

God, I needed that. Thank you.

Light in the back garden… Simple blessings

Almost overwhelmed by the beauty of it all…

The depth of the energy that the sunlight has brought…

Not just the vibrant contrasting colours of the spring, scintillated by seed and the sparkle of sunglint, but also the strength of the tradition in the pinnacled church tower as its bells strike twelve… The god-given energy seemed to make some simple, homely treasures sparkle.

In the heat of the spring sun, the lyrics “hypnotised by the beauty of it all” come to mind. Lyrics from the Hothouse Flowers song ‘Good for You,’ from their album ‘Home’.

My ‘home’ is something I’ve struggled to pin a flag on. I am from Cornwall, so I might say I’m a Cornishman; the Cornish have a strong tradition and identity. But, I have ‘lived’ outside the County, in the East Midlands, for more than 30 years.

This weekend, shadows of the lingering winter seemed to be warmed by a few days of strong sun. ‘Were you there when the sun refused to shine?’ It seems I tend to suffer from an introvert’s ruminations and cognitive distortion, especially in the winter months. A recent health check suggested I was low in Vit D and Iron… that notion didn’t help my ‘perception’ of the world.

The Hot House Flowers sing;

“I’ve hoarded all experiences I’ve had
Written down all memories on a train…
And you ask me why I’m singing,
Well it is good for me, it can be good for you…”

“World is decay, life is perception”, said the ancient Greek philosopher Democritus. But this weekend’s light and warmth have definitely helped my perceptions sing, and helped me treasure some simple blessings.

‘Blessings’. The word always reminds me of being a boy, about 6 years old, circa 1975. Waist-high amidst a throng of Cornish faithful, singing with gusto in the upstairs chapel of the Royal National Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen in Newlyn. “Count your blessings, name them one by one…”. The RNMDSF; fishermen’s shadows in corners, a snooker table taller than me, plaques, awards, and a sense of refuge. I recall songs about anchors, safe return, loss, toil and light. The sound of my grandmother and the colour and spirit of this song.

The Hot House Flowers sang “I’ve spent my life watching sky and sea change colour…”

It’s what we do, colours change… perhaps ‘home’ is where the heart is. But, “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:21

“And I’ve woken to the sound of sweet dawn music
Where a hundred thousand songs are sung
While the earth and ocean changes
Four thousand million into one”

Treasure your blessings. ‘Life’ is in perception!

God, I needed that. Thank you.

Incidentally, my kids bought me tickets to see the Hot House Flowers in Birmingham last year! Awsome.

Tags faith, life, music, writing

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It’s in everything

Post author By julesprichards
Post date December 20, 2025

What’s to be done? Estragon on my shoulder again. Nothing? Make biscuits?

It’s a seasonal tradition, along with the meat pies, to make Grannie/Nana’s Cornish ginger biscuits. Thanks Gannie.

Cornish Gingerbread Biscuit RECIPE here if you’re interested: Gingerbreads

It’s almost become a cliché, the self-helpers are tripping over themselves to share it, ‘stop, and notice, the everyday things’, breathe, slow down and…

But it’s not just a truism, it’s such an important idea to realise.

It’s not easy… As Antony De Mello suggested, to “understand the loveliness and the beauty of this thing that we call human existence. …tragically, [many] never get to see that ‘all is well’ “ Thanks Antony.

I was recently reading that our perception of time can speed up when life becomes routine and repetitive, and slow down when you encounter novel or stimulating experiences. As Ezra Bayda said, “What happens when we slow down and pay attention? Everything! Innumerable delights are right at hand.”

Christmas break is an ideal time to move out of what’s become a habitual fast lane.

Novel or stimulating experiences can be ever-present, some might say omnipresent. Some might say Emmanuel. From the delight to be found in a warm drink on a cold day, to birdsong, music, a ginger biscuit, a brief exchange with a stranger, pride, gratitude, compassion…

So what’s to be learned from another holiday break?

It’s been a good year; we could look back and list the things to smile about. We could also look back and list the things that have been a struggle and still strain our spirits.

But right now, as Eliot reminds us,

‘Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
… a perpetual possibility…’

A distant friend reminded me beautifully this week to “Let the birds sing over you.” Thanks Tim.

And another friend reminded me of the ‘multiple magpie’ days I experience regularly. Thanks Beckie.

My winter commute in and out of Leicester

I am still beaming with last month’s Howard Jones extravaganza… “There was a time when there was nothing at all, just a distant hum…”. Thanks Howard.

As I reflected back in…. Feb 23 It is well…

I looked upwards… diversity.
Three geese soar, whooping in formation,
while mallards scuffle below, with a shabby iridescent majesty.
Two moorhens totter across my path,
and a passel of pigeons mob a scattering of grain.
A rat sat beside the path, cleaning her whiskers, unphased.
Two squirrels spiral a tree trunk, as a brazen buzzard watches from her regular perch.
Coots mending their nest make me smile; flappy feet.
A few swans still sleep, necks curled, dreaming; while others awake with a stretch and a flamboyant flap.
Multiple magpies bounce; joy, secrets, and gold…
New colonist; a little egret… two of them… three!
The old crows crow.
There was a time when there was nothing at all, just a distant hum…

So we wish you hope for the new year.

Hope…
you find it in everything…

I hope you can find it in everything…

Howard on Leicester, DMH 2025

Happy seasonal contemplations!

Tags general, life, writing

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Milpreve – Stones

Post author By julesprichards
Post date August 10, 2025

Some people commented on the adder stones that we collected on our recent trip to Kent. So, I thought I’d leave a little info here.

My naturally holed stones found in Kent, UK (Adder Stones)

People have traditionally used the term “adder stone” to describe any stone with a naturally occurring hole through it. Often made of flint, they have also been called hag stones, fairy stones, and snake’s eggs. In Cornwall, where I am from, they were called milpreve.

There’s a lot of folklore (people-knowledge) surrounding adder stones, which, of course, is another story. But what does remain is a curiosity in the discovery of such items.

I guess it’s the form that creates intrigue.

As a creative artist, especially when I studied visual arts as a student, Barbara Hepworth was one artist who piqued my interest. Of course, in her created sculptures, she often featured ‘holes’.

I recall studying: ‘the hole’ as a way back as well as a way forward. Conjuring notions of time, past, future, and a space for potential possibilities…

I recall playing with T.S. Eliot’s Burnt Norton
Time present and time past
are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
What might have been is an abstraction
Remaining a perpetual possibility…

Anywho… I digress.

I guess it’s the ‘noticing’ of forms that is the essence of this. Projecting meaning onto them is what we all then do. Hence, the development of our language and cultures. We see the form of a sunset and it conjures feelings or thoughts, perhaps an overwhelming awe, or a speechless moment, a void… to be filled with meaning.

So back to the holed stones. Whether it’s the mystery of days gone by, or the beauty of sculptural ‘gaps or connections’. Holes exist in our world; space, void, potential… make of them what you will.

Tags Art, fiction, history, travel, writing