We had a chilly morning yesterday. There was frost in the garden when I looked out shortly after sunrise, and Olga acted like I was torturing her by making her go on a walk. She kept digging in her heels and trying to turn for home. Finally, after (ahem) essential bodily functions had occurred, I gave in and we went back.
She promptly got on the couch and hid almost entirely under her pink blanket. She wanted nothing to do with the cold.
Last night I went with Sally and Mike to see Björk in concert at the O2 Centre (also known as the Millennium Dome). Dave didn't come -- he's not very interested in Björk, and when I asked him to name a Björk song, he responded with a string of syllables that sounded like they came from the Swedish Chef.
But I've been a Björk fan since buying her album "Debut" back in 1994. It was widely advertised on posters in Spain when I traveled there with my friend Arthur that year -- in fact I remember being in a hotel room in Granada watching her video for "Violently Happy" on the TV. To this day it's one of my favorite Björk songs.
Anyway, her concert was a brightly colored, digitally enhanced spectacle. Photography was prohibited but I don't think Björk would mind me providing this 50-second teaser:
That's her in front, looking like a big white exotic bird or feather duster. Her voice hasn't changed a bit over the years.
She only played a few songs I knew: "Isobel," "Pagan Poetry," "Hidden Place" and a bit of "Venus as a Boy." I say that a bit reservedly, though, because although Björk doesn't sound like the Swedish Chef (and why would she -- she's Icelandic), she does have an accent and I often only understand every fourth or fifth word.
The concert, called "Cornucopia," focused on nature and the planet's ecology. A message about climate change scrolled across the screens in front of the stage, and later a video of Greta Thunberg speaking directly to the crowd. And of course everyone cheered the message, but I couldn't help thinking, here we are in this gigantic arena using untold kilowatts of electricity and drinking from our plastic cups. The message sounds good, and in fact it is essential, but acting is so much harder. It's not Björk's fault. It's just the way we live now.