Eyes closed

I was miserable after puncturing the LCD on my play-time (and blogger’s) laptop. Thought only tires punctured. Told myself off as I went to do my teaching stint at the College for the Blind, and later to talk to a group with macular degeneration. They were all cheerful enough – how dare I be miserable?

Malcolm, a busker from Three Cocks, playing in Ludlow last year. 

Got me thinking about blind street musicians and Davy’s (you don’t know him) researches into the biwa hoshi musicians or ‘blind priests’ who toured Japan in the 1200s; the blind minstrels of nineteenth-century Ukraine, known as the Kobzarsto persecuted under Russian rule (who wasn’t?); the famous Irish Turlough O’Carolan and the more recent Blind Lemon Jefferson. (Was Jefferson Airplane named after him? Or the spliff-holding device of the same name?)

Nothing wrong with Malcolm's sight (above). Sometimes, like him, I close my eyes when I’m playing, just to concentrate. Maybe I should wear dark glasses, but then I enjoy the eye contact especially with people's dogs. You feel they'd sit there and watch you all day if their owners would let them. 

Currently rehearsing for a busk at Abergavenny Food Fest. Wonder if I should dress up and look official?