Enter the Dragon?

According to the BBC, an interesting debate has been sparked off in the House of Commons. It appears that Wrexham's Labour MP - Ian Lucas, has called for the Dragon of Wales to appear on the Union Flag.

Peterborough's Tory MP - Stewart Jackson has opposed the idea and labelled it as "eccentric" and unpopular.

However, I'm all for it. The intellectual legalists will argue of course that Wales is technically a principality and not a full blooded country... so there is no need. Crusty traditionalists will be opposed because "it's been like this for 207 years and hasn't needed changing, so why change now?" However, we refer to Wales as a "home nation" in our sports... and most people seem to culturally identify Wales as a country if you talk to them. So surely this weakens the former argument. The latter argument against - the traditionalist one, isn't even a supported one. It's just an opinion based solely on personal feeling.

I actually think sticking a dragon on the front of our flag will give it attitude... I also believe Wales has a right to be represented on the flag. It's not right that we treat the Cymru as cultural pets. They are equal brothers in my view. This is something that should be debated. Okay lets not spend years arguing over it, but we should have a genuine open debate to see what the general consensus is.

The Unknown Bride

Sorry to have been away so long, I've been away in Abergele, Wales; representing my company at the launch of a new very sheltered housing development - Tannery Court/Cwrt Barcdy. I impressed a few locals with my layman's knowledge of Emrys Ap Iwan (we held the launch at the school bearing his name).

I try to keep my writings on Myspace, separate from my blog here (to maintain the accurate impression that they are separate entities). I usually only enter dreams on Myspace, however because of the strength and nature of the last dream I experienced, I thought on this occasion I would replicate it here:

I dreamed I was getting married at my parents church in Alcester... it seemed to be an arranged marriage. I have never met the woman before me, yet I seemed to have little choice about the situation (although logically one would think I would have, seeing as I was dressed for the occasion).

This woman was blonde and fairly tall, her hair extended to about midway down the length of the back. Most significantly, I could tell she was emotional and genuinely seemed to need me... the wedding was important and she was sure she could be a good wife if I gave her a chance, though I knew her not. She had some kind of spinal problem as she seemed to stoop a lot.

I remember coming away from the centre of the church to discuss this in the lady chapel (where the choir gets changed at St. Nick's). On the way in I saw Mrs Stally, widow of the first vicar I knew at St. Nick's and mother of an old childhood friend. On the way out I saw Steve Burch... our last vicar at Great Alne... and I was just walking over to go and ask him what he made of it all... when rather annoyingly I woke up. I could have done with some sage advice about that and a real life issue that is bothering me... although I'm not sure whether the advice of an imagined friend is the same as a real one.

The feelings I most remember are that I was incredibly tempted to go through with the ceremony because I had great compassion for the woman. I felt uneasy being plunged into the ultimate commitment with a complete stranger... and I felt that heroic part of me that tends to be the gallant knight wanting to say yes and hang the consequences... because a lady was in need. The other part of me was saying that hang on you've been at the whim of ladies in need all your life and it has led you to danger... is this wise?

I felt that I should say yes... that this woman was different... and that all the rottenness of the past had happened to dissuade me from making the correct decision.

Oh and the other night in my dreams I saw the moon shining a silvery blue. It was huge and you could make out the pock marks of all the craters... it seemed a lot nearer to Earth than it should have been. It was night in my hometown and there was trouble in town.

Any people with the spiritual gift of interpreting dreams would at this point be very welcome and in fact strongly desired... as my life seems to be heading on a one way trip into the surreal at present.

God bless

N

A Saturday Less Ordinary.

Today's been only slightly less mundane than most Saturday's.

I decided to go shopping for shoes, because my work shoes are frankly falling apart. Now, we have a shoe shop in town... I used to work their for a summer job while at college. My mum works their part time now. It's because of those facts that I won't go there, despite there being a possible discount. I'm just not comfortable being served by people who know me... especially family (though mum wasn't there today). I don't know why, its just the way I am. I suppose that's another thing that has to go out the window in the continuous evolution of Nick Payne.

So I checked my blog and emails.

Then I did a Monet!

I decided last night to wipe the mega long entry "Live and Let Live". I don't feel there was anything wrong in what I said... but it was that post which was throwing the sidebar on my page out of whack and after sleeping on what to do about it, I felt it was probably something that people didn't need to hear.

The reason I mentioned Monet, is because I was told a story about him once. He was renowned for his soft blue and green works... but there was a period in his life when he suffered from cataracts. It was during this period that he painted pictures in vibrant reds and yellows. He had one set of cataracts removed and painted half the picture in his older colours and the other half in the reds and yellows. When Monet realised that his eye problems had interfered with his artistic efforts, he destroyed most of his paintings from that time. Now that is a philosophical question for art... our pains, hardships, joys and sorrows form the backbone for our creative works... so was Monet right? Did his cataracts damage those particular works... or enhance them?

I digress. As I waited for the bus, a teenager came and asked what time the bus would come, he was very civil. However, five minutes later his mates came along and he had a personality transplant. It's interesting how easily we change our behaviour to suit our company... all the more interesting for me having made personal observations regarding myself.

Got my shoes and purchased two books from Waterstones to keep me out of trouble - "Stardust" by Neil Gaiman and "Hood" by Stephen Lawhead. Looking forward to get stuck in to those. The latter should be extremely interesting because it relocates the Robin Hood legend into Wales. Having said that... Robin himself is most probably an amalgamation of several different legends. I'm a fan of Lawhead's work, especially the books he has written that tie into Celtic culture and the ancient legends and lore of the British Isles.

Part of me was thinking of going out tonight and wandering into a pub to do some crazy man dancing. However I'm cooking myself chicken and asparagus with pasta in a pesto sauce... so I won't get time.

I'm hoping to cycle over to Astwood Bank tomorrow, to attend the church of some friends. However there is a very big hill between us... and last time it nearly wiped me out. I want to tell some of them the things I have concluded here recently. I'll let you know how I get on.

Blessings

N

A Family Feud

Last night, I clashed swords with my father. Don't worry, it wasn't over anything serious and nobody was permanently injured.

What pray tell was this storm in a teacup all about? It centred around me challenging my father's affection for Dame Shirley Bassey. He was watching the Royal Variety Performance and saying how much he was looking forward to seeing his favourite singer (she has held a plavce in his heart since he was young himself); meanwhile I was suggesting that I preferred Katherine Jenkins... yeah I'm sure some of my reasons are a bit shallow (she is easier on the eye), but her singing voice has a hypnotic effect on me and makes my stomach turn to jelly.

Honestly, what is it with me and my Father and the Welsh?

My mother was on my side, so dad had to justify himself by sulkily declaring "Us pensioners have to stick together!" He then pondered whether or not Dame Shirley got a winter fuels allowance. I don't think she has need for it as he probably has at least one home in a warmer climate.

So who are you with... me or my dad?

You can read more about Katherine Jenkins here, or Dame Shirley - here. Or Watch videos of them both below.

Still on a musical theme... and I have done my bit for local band Nizlopi, in their attempt to bag the Christmas No.1 slot. I've just purchased JCB from HMV. If you were a child in the 80's, I promise you that song will strike at least a few personal chords. It is full of charm... and being acoustically driven it comes as a much needed antidote to a lot of the manufactured nonsense out there... especially the infectiously addictive money spinning Crazy Frog (which is basically just a brainwashing scam to harvest kids pocket money).

My next blog should return to "normal service", as I give you my verdict on The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe... which I will be watching tonight at Stratford-upon-Avon Picturehouse.

Until then

Blessings

N