Holy, Holy, Holy.

Holy, holy, holy. lord God almighty.
Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee;
There is a sign at the side of thee, merciful and mighty
God in three persons, God in three persons, blessed trinity!

I have a love affair with Scotch.

I drink it socially, sometimes, but my favorite moments with it are very personal experiences--hidden away in between the stresses of the day and the eternal burden of social grace. It is the moments alone that Scotch and I get along best.

I appreciate it for its strength--the almost supersaturated sensation of flavour that it delivers cannot be easily described.

I drink Scotch neat--no water, no ice, no confusion. And I prefer it in wide, simple rocks glasses, rather than the curving brandy snifters that most scotch drinkers use when sampling it in its pure form.

Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide thee
Though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see;
Only thou art holy, there is none beside thee
Perfect in power, Perfect in power, in love, and purity

I was speaking with a fellow Scotch enthusiast a few weeks ago, on another side of the country, and he spoke of the danger of inhaling directly from the lip of a brandy snifter because the scent is so strong and carries so much alcohol with it that the fumes alone can overwhelm your senses. He recommended instead that you sniff carefully with your nose six inches from the mouth of the snifter--to experience the flavour in a more controlled manner.

I realized this is why I prefer rocks glasses. I want my experience to be close, familiar, not formal or reserved. I cradle the glass in both hands and bring my face directly up to the glass, and the wider mouth allows the scent to flow past me without danger.

Holy, holy, holy! lord God almighty!
All thy works shall praise thy name,
In earth, and sky, and sea;
There is a sign at the sight of thee, there is none beside thee
God in three persons, God in three persons,
God in three persons, God in three persons, blessed trinity!

I am not a simple man. For the past five years I have tended towards wanderlust. I have been a gypsy in each place I have lived and I have savoured the melancholy moments and often resented the joyful ones.

I have moved through my life like a wraith, real and present only in certain types of experience--distant or reserved in others. This is something I want to change.

Oh my friends I've
Begun to worry right
Where I should be grateful
I should be satisfied

Oh my heart I
Would clap and dance in place
With my friends I have so
Much pleasure to embrace

But my heart is
Returned to sister winter
But my heart is
As cold as ice

I'm only learning now, in the winter of my youth, that there is a time for laughter. That there is a time for love, I've always known, but now things are changing again.

Oh my thoughts I
Return to summertime
When I kissed your ankle
I kissed you through the night

All my gifts I gave everything you
Your strange imagination
You threw it all away

Now I'm wondering about the possibility that perhaps along with learning joy will come another lesson--stillness.

Now my heart is
Returned to sister winter
Now my heart is
As cold as ice

I have a balcony. The railing is gray and simple--a mechanism to keep one from falling to the marble steps below. I was sitting today with a cigarette and a glass of Scotch and staring at the rail and I noticed that each supporting pillar was turned on a lathe--by hand. They are not identical, each one has it's own special curve, some thinner, some thick, some rough and some smooth. They were created on at a time, by the hand of a man who is, I'm sure, long gone.

All my friends, I've
Returned to sister winter
All my friends, I
Apologize, apologize

I would never have noticed this variation if I were always in motion--it is an observation that can be made only in stillness.

All my friends, I've
Returned to sister winter
All my friends, I
Apologize, apologize

How many more lessons and thoughts would I miss if I spent the rest of my life on the move, on the run--always more interested in where else I could be than where I am right now?

All my friends, I've
Returned to sister winter
All my friends, I
Apologize, apologize

I'm here to apologize to each of you, my friends, whom I'm treated as my temporary environment rather than my present, and have denied the fullness of my attention.

La la la la la . . .

And my friends, I've
Returned to wish you all the best
And my friends, I've
Returned to wish you all the best
And my friends, I've
Returned to wish you all the best
And my friends, I've
Returned to wish you a happy Christmas

I know that I cannot start over, but I will try to begin again.

To wish you a happy Christmas
To wish you a happy Christmas
To wish you a happy Christmas

I hope you understand, and I hope that each of you see a change in me.

Merry Christmas.

Lyrics from Holy Holy Etc. and Sister Winter, by Sufjan Stevens.