Happy One Year Anniversary to Rays of Light The Blog.

Hiya! By the time you read this, that means it has turned November 24th, and Rays of Light has been up in the air for exactly one year.
And what a year it has been!

Whether you have read just one post, or if you have been a regular reader, know this:

this has been an amazing journey!

I started out in November 2013 feeling not a little depressed, anxious, frazzled, morose, and-what-have-you. In short: not a happy little bunny!

Being an overzealous conscientious worker was finally catching up with me. In short: taking over and turning me upside down, inside out and generally pissing me about.

I started suffering (yes, really suffering!) from stress-related garbage, and traumatic events from my youth (long repressed) suddenly coming to the surface and costing me my peace of mind.

Still.

I do.

In the middle of all the shit, all the pain, all the heartache, there is good. I witness it every day.

It's in the little things. 

The smile in the street. The hand on my shoulder. The cup of coffee waiting for me when I get to work in the mornings. The warm greeting by a pupil. The palpable love given me. The wet nose of Viggo on my cheek in the night. The trusting look of Gina.

To get myself back into mental shape, I turned to three things: blogging, music and Ralph Waldo Emerson.

This is SUCH sound advice!

Hopefully you have enjoyed my blog. And you're welcome. I intend to keep on keeping on.

I'll post about music. About life in between the lines. And Viggo will join us from time to time.

I'll leave you with the soundtrack of my life. Just follow the link.David Bowie - Changes

So - Anyone Still Interested Out There?

Good (Saturday - Caturday) morning to you!
I've been extremely busy this last week (too much work, dramas at home, you name it I had it), so I didn't have time to do my usual post publishing. And what happened...attendance drops.
No, not just drops - it practically disappears.
Conclusion? I might as well quit.

Whoa! Stop. Rephrase!
My readers (you) like to drop in and read my stuff, but only when I take the trouble to upload it myself into various FB pages and groups.
Right? Right again.

I've asked someone I admire (actress and character both) to give you "the look".

And I've also asked myself, with my approaching upcoming anniversary on Nov. 24th, whether I want to continue with this blog.

Not because of you (I do like you, really, am simply stating the obvious here), but because of me.

Being the forever introspective type (call it self-obsessed, go on, I dare you), I am always investigating my motives. Life is hard, so in order to keep living it, I investigate and question. And, fast approaching sixty, I have earned the right to do so. I could have quit dozens of times already.

So. 

To blog on, or not to blog on. That's the question.

Viggo On "Rotterdam City of 2015" Election.

Hiya. You have reached the blog of a very proud Rotterdammer. The city of my birth has been elected Best European City for 2015 by some London-based committee. YAY!
Now, obviously us born in Rotterdam have known for some time that Rotterdam is great, but it's nice to know that others recognise this as well.
So, to celebrate, I have asked Viggo for his opinion on this wonderful achievement.

Q: Viggo, so nice of you to grant us this interview, it being a Sunday and raining as well.

V: Always happy to oblige, for my fans.

Q: Can I ask you what your first thought was when you heard about this celebratory fact about Rotterdam?

V: My first thought? Hm... Couldn't care less.

Q:Aren't you the tiniest bit proud that the city that spawned your woman won?

V: 'Spawned'? Are you a tadpole?

Q: Viggo, don't be like that, please!

V: Oh, alright then. Well. I must admit that I do admire my predecessor, the  red cat Peter. The way he watched over your birthing... that was classy.  I don't now if I could face that scene; a red squealing smelly baby dropping out of a woman 1 foot away... I'm told he kept his cool admirably, didn't move a whisker. And I know he lived in Blijdorp for years, which is Rotterdam I suppose. It's a pity he has been dead for the last 53 years, it would have been nice to hunt together.

Q: I'm sure. Rotterdam?

V: Oh, yeah, certainly. Rotterdam... Rotterdam... You know, I'm totally blank.

Q: The Euromast, The Erasmusbrug, the Kop van Zuid, the Markthal, the...

V: Enough! You sound like a Tourism Board Advertisement. 

Q: Schmidt Zeevis, Andalus Vis...

V: Ah...that's more interesting. But I'm not really into eating the stuff, sorry.

Q: Anything to say about Rotterdam, anything at all?

V: To tell you the truth, nope. But you can post that selfie I took today.

Q: Already did, it's at the top of this page.

V: Right. Well, you can post the full length ones in the windowsill then, they came out quite well, I think. Pity about those ridiculous African birds.

Nobody Tells You Out Loud - So, People of Ukraine, Thank You!

Today we of The Netherlands remember the victims of MH17.
And amongst all the blah-blah, and the heartfelt proper words that actually mean something, I want to add my own.
Whilst we dither about a memorial people can actually touch, there has been one erected in Rozsypne ages ago.

Photo Algemeen Dagblad

And I would like to thank the people responsible.
Simply: from one human being to another.

Thank you!

A Leap Of Faith...My First Musical Intro.

Hiya, good to see you!
Do you know the feeling that sometimes Life gives you a nudge, and that when you do not react fast enough it gives you an almighty shove in the back?
This happened to me, today.
I saw an invitation by American singer Melody Gardot, to join her in a choir on her new CD. It immediately fired up my enthousiasm, for I so love to sing! 'All' I had to do was record my voice, upload it into a transmittable file and send it to her via email.

GarageBand is a feature of my Macbook Pro, but I hadn't used it for years, too busy with life, work, family, blogging, gardening and learning to play the guitar. So it took a while for me to suss out how to record, save, upload and then send in the sample of my voice.

Whilst I was struggling with this alien matter (well, to me...I am not a natural born computer nerd), I found a recording I had made years ago, out of boredom during the lunch breaks at my (then) work place.

I listened to it, and had wild idea, all of a sudden.

Here I am, a blogger, lately about music.

And I had produced some form of music.

And now I am taking an immense leap of faith.

And am inviting you to hear it. If you dare.

Here it is:

Do let me know if you like it.

A Very Personal Bowie. What's Your Life Song?

Hiya. Good of you to pop in!
Okay. First of all, if you hate David Bowie, you should skip this post! But: if you have an open mind, perhaps you should read it after all.

Long, long ago, when I was thirteen and living in the middle of nowhere, and cycling to school every day (took me thirty minutes there against the Westerly wind, and back again, more often than not again against the wind), and hating every minute of my life (I was a troubled kid), one of my classmates who was heavily into music pointed the following out to me: "There is a guy who makes music for people like you".
Oh?
The next day he was so kind to bring his cherished David Bowie album to school; 'The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust'. He promised me I could take it home for exactly one evening, in return for a grope and a kiss.
The grope he never got, but the kiss...I was a good bargainer even then.

That evening I put on the album, watched over by my dog Bello and one of my three cats, Bobby. I sat down cross-legged on my second-hand afghan carpet, surrounded by incense fumes, and staring at a candle (told you...), and prepared to be enlightened.

At first I was bewildered.
Then I was intrigued.
When I put it on for the third time, I was tapping along and anticipating the best songs.
The fourth time running (it was way past my bedtime by then and my room was misty blue and foggy from all the fumes, and Bello and Bobby had colonised my bed) I listened to 'Rock 'N' Roll Suicide' five times in a row and cried my eyes out.
There I was. I recently had had the most shitty time of my life, and here was a man who knew exactly - but exactly - what I was going through. And he didn't even know me! But he knew what words I needed so desperately.

Right. Long story short. I hung on. Became a life-long David Bowie fan. Even now, I struggle to play his songs on the guitar.

So, Hans, mate, haven't a clue where you are these days, but you were right. And I don't begrudge you that kiss for a second.
Rock 'N' Roll Suicide

Viggo Plays Guitar.

Hiya, happy Caturday to you!
When I told you I would start posting about music, I also promised to ask Viggo to make the occasional appearance, and I always keep my promises.

Ever since my tomcat Viggo trashed my brand new guitar to make a point (his point being that he wanted me to get out of bed at 3 am and feed him), Viggo and guitars have a somewhat fraught relationship. So I thought it an idea to ask him about this.

Q: Could you say that you dislike my guitar?

V: Yes, I could say that. But I won't. Because it isn't true.

Q: Then what made you decide to swat my guitar from its stand?

V: I simply saw an opportunity. It just stood there. You just lay there. I was hungry.

Q: Did you feel sorry afterwards?

V: Don't be silly. I cannot understand your weird emotions about that guitar. You almost cried, I mean...honestly. It's a thing made out of wood and strings, not a living being. And you should have spared a thought for me! You shouted at me! I was sooooo upset!

Q: I observe your somewhat...reluctance to come near my guitar nowadays though. Not that I am complaining. 

V: Yes, well, you would be reluctant too! That guitar crashing scared the bee-jeebies out of me. I didn't foresee that it would make that clanging noise. That, and you screaming! 

Q: But you take a wide berth when I am playing it, as well.

V: That's because you keep playing the same thing over, and over, and over....

Q: That is called practicing.

V: Oh...is that was it is. I thought it was simply bad music. 

Q: Watch your mouth!

V: That wasn't a question.

Q: I mean it, take care what you say, or I'll cut your ration.

V: WHAT? Even more? Don't you dare! It's barely a mouthful as it is! And Gina tries to eat it every time!

Q: That's your own doing, you keep leaving half!

V: I save it! It is for later! That's first cat rule, you save a bit for later! For when you want another little bite!

Q: Well, that's plain stupid, you should eat it all, because you know Gina tries to get at your food.

V: That's it. This talk is over! You can take your stupid guitar and stick it up your...Oh! What's that? Did you see that?

SWAT!

Q: Well. What can I say? And another dragonfly bites the dust. Did that taste good?

V: Mwah. A bit disappointing. It looked better than it tastes. So I think I'll leave the rest, if you don't mind.

Q: You just bit its head off, Viggo! You left the rest already anyway.

V: Pooh! Semantics! Okay, time for my wash. Oh...no...not the guitar, please!

Q: I'll put the headphones on.

V: Thanks. Tickety-boo, then.