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Wig Smith



Last Updated: 12/6/2009

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Status: Single
City: Bristol
State: Southwest
Country: UK
Signup Date: 12/18/2006

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Tuesday, April 28, 2009 

Category: Music
You can buy my album on my myspace page if you like -
its £8 including postage to anywhere and I'll throw in my piano EP for free...

Also, if anyone wants to do a swap, I love doing swaps!

You can buy the hand album on the hand myspace too...

Wig x
Currently listening:
Joanna Newsom & the Ys Street Band EP
By Joanna Newsom & the Ys Street Band
Release date: 2007-04-09
Wednesday, January 28, 2009 

Current mood:  excited
Category: Music




Hello! We are two musicians from Bristol who play collectively as The Hand, and separately as Rachael Dadd and Wig Smith. We have recently returned from Japan where we were touring to promote our new albums released on Angel’s Egg. In the spring we’ll be joined by Japanese solo artist Ichi,
and together we’re looking for live dates across the UK (Mid April –
Mid May) and Europe (Mid May – Mid June). We're happy to play in shops,
cafes, galleries, and all sorts of music venues. If you are interested
in booking us or know somebody that would be, and would like more
information and cds please email: rachaeldadd@googlemail.com  or message me here at myspace, or call Wig on Thank you!


THE HAND
The Hand
I met Wig a few years ago working onBristol ferry boats. We shared a love of all sorts, Robert Wyatt, Joni Mitchell,Jolie Holland.
Wig made me the best compilation cds, introducing me to wonderfully
obscure and enchanting music. On quiet winter shifts I would bring my
banjo to work and sit on the engine cover as Wig drove, and we’d sing
Leonard Cohen & Sybille Baier
songs to lone commuters. Wig had been in love with world music for a
long time and so bought a kora and taught himself to play. Wanting to
explore our shared love of music we started to write together. Using
kora, banjo, guitar, ukulele, piano, harmonium, clarinet, autoharp and percussion,
we began making music that was primarily instrumental. When we’d sing
it was usually together and usually in harmony. We’d start with an idea
and the idea seemed to take itself off on an adventure, and then we’d
have a song that neither of us owned and it felt liberating. We named
ourselves after one of Bristol’s ferry stops where stands a huge bronze
cast of a hand, recorded a demo, played a live session and had track of
the week on Brighton’s radio reverb, and went on a UK tour in autumn 2007.

Since this time we have played extensive gigs and  UK festivals including Camp Bestival and Truck Festival, made a self-recorded album titled Berries From the Rubble which has been released on Japanese label Angel’s Egg (along with all our solo albums), and have just returned from a 3 week  Japan tour. While in Japan we recorded as guest musicians for the forthcoming World Standard
album. With new inspiration from our recent travels under our belt we
want to continue playing to new audiences at home and overseas. We
recently discovered that the banjo is a descendant of the kora. Our music is full of surprises, even for us!

“On we skip’ is typical of the album - English folk song cross-bred with desert campfire
blues to produce something that is at once gentle, dramatic and timeless….Against
the kora’s distinctive ring the duo harmonise, producing a sound that has the same
skein of beauty as Le Mystère Des Voix Bulgares…It’s immediately beguiling, but
it also grows more impressive with each listen”
Jumped Up Pantry Boy http://pantry.wordpress.com/....

“The hand do some indescribable things with their fingers: her banjo and his guitar nimbly
spin yarns, conversing about closing gaps in the music staff, and how romantic
everything seems up close, by the light of the candle”
Venue magazine


ICHI

Ichi,
from Nagoya in Japan, takes the notion of a one-man band to new limits
- combining steel-drum with ping-pong balls, tape-loops with double
bass and trumpet with xylophone, all in the space of one short set.
Somehow
there's an ancient, ritualistic feel to his performances. He's like the
misplaced leader of a tribe and perhaps he will be - it's this kind of
excellence and innovation which inspires a cult following. At the same
time, his music is so playful and unusual - it gives you the feeling
that you're witnessing something entirely
new. It's fun, it's danceable, it's exciting.

His album, Mono is released on the Japanese label Coup, and if you heard the CD before
you
see him play, you'd never believe he reproduces it live, but he does
(minus the mewing from his two cats, some atmospheric sound recordings
and a few contributions
from some other friends).

Ichi is also a 20-year long member of the Nagoya New Wave band Nohshinto, and has toured extensively as a solo artist in Japan, and has played with Shugo Tokumaru and Asa-Chang & Junray.


RACHAEL DADD

Whether
it be by handing out cake or percussive pots of rice to shake, Rachael
puts her audience at ease - she's had plenty of practice, having toured
England and Japan numerous times, and played festival slots since 2001
including an appearance on Glastonbury’s Acoustic Stage with one of her collaborative projects, Whalebone Polly (with Kate Stables of This is the Kit).
She enjoys performing in intimate settings the most, but can adapt
well, having proved this when she performed a series of shows in Japan,
each to an audience of 3000.

Rachael
makes most of her music by telling everyone that she's going to bed,
and then sneaking off to her trusty 8-track and plugging herself in.
Her songs sparkle with a wide-eyed wonder and exhibit a fascination for
the everyday magic of life. Soon after stepping foot in Bristol in
2003, Rachael gained the reputation by Venue Magazine as,
“the author of a deft, charismatic brand of folk music". Since then she has turned the heads of Rob Da Bank, Bob Harris and Huw Stevens, as well as  those in other fields such as artist Yoshitomo Nara. Her last album The World Outside is in a Cupboard was described as “absolutely staggering” by Julian Peck of Sunday Best Recordings. She has been adopted as part of the Fence Collective’s extended family, and has been invited to be part of several compilation releases, the most recent being Little Things on Indy label Flau, from which The Wire Magazine picked out her contribution as one that appeals most of all”

Her latest album After the Ant Fight, recorded with Ali Chant (who has worked with John Parish, Howe Gelb and PJ Harvey), is her third album to be released on Japanese label Angel’s Egg
and is her most varied and exciting work to date. On it she invites her
Bristol friends to play, leading her impromptu penguin café orchestra
down a lyrical and melodic path. On the album, not only does Rachael
turn her own hands to piano, banjo, guitar, clarinet and harmonium, but too turns them to
the album’s sleeve, appropriately dressing it in exquisite ant-depicting needlework. In this way she maintains a certain D.I.Y ethos that has been apparent since her very first 4-track recordings complete with hand-drawn covers

Rachael’s song writing is atypical – the obvious moves
are avoided in favor of the element of surprise. ‘Table’ in particular is
stunning…a Philip Glass-y piece of minimalism that rises to a peak on the back
of a just-so mix of piano, harmonium, clarinet and one-take drums, then falls
away again…the kind of freshness that draws you back for another listen, and
another.”
Jumped Up Pantry Boy, http://pantry.wordpress.com/

"The true star of a stage positively brimming with quality.
Authentic, unpretentious and lightened by Ms Dadd's loveable persona, the bands
ethereal folk seduced an audience already spoilt with highlights. Sumptuous
harmonies, pastoral melodies and banana grins abound."
Venue Magazine

"This LP will be filled with the same kind of magical, bewitching
tunes as Føroyar, with vocal hooks that send thrilling shivers sprinting across
your nerve endings and sink you into those hot joyful flushes that only come
with the experience of something quite unique."
Stool Pigeon


WIG SMITH

Wig Smith

Wig
Smith, an extremely gifted solo musician, has achieved a great amount
in the last 3 years. Having only played his first live gig three
Augusts ago (supporting the darkly enchanting Diane Cluck), he
has since clocked up an impressive list of achievements. In 2007 he
played a 13 date UK tour, and in autumn 2008 he recorded a solo album
which has since been released on Japanese label Angel's Egg.
One of his greatest achievements in 2008 was to travel by train and
boat across land and sea, kora and ukulele in tow, to arrive on
Japanese shores where he teamed up with Rachael Dadd to play a 12 date
tour of the country to eagerly awaiting ears.

Music
has always been a huge part of his life, of his every day existence.
This mould was set from the age of 10 when he began attending rigorous
rehearsals and
performing with the Bristol Cathedral choir (though
nowadays he is firmly agnostic). His interests in music were by no
means channeled for him - as if piano, ukulele and guitar were not enough, he bought a kora
from e-bay and set about teaching himself how to play it. Then, taking
influences from many different genres, particularly his great loves: world music, new folk music, poetry and folk tales,
he has been quietly and modestly forging his very own language (Wig
also helps organise a monthly story-telling and music night in Bristol
called Folk Tales).

His
music comes from an inner strength and self assuredness, and possesses
an outer beauty and fragility. Maybe it is something that lies in the
intricacies - the relationship between vocal melody and the kora's
phrasing, or maybe it's the sentiment of such lyrics: "The lines have appeared to itch since I learnt their language", and "Our hearts are folded - it takes two to make a full frame", (both of which reflect his other life as a harbor man, along with one of his side projects 'a boat a boat'
which is music made from recorded boat sounds and blowing over the
necks of beer bottles); It's hard to put a finger on what it is
exactly, but there is certainly something about Wig Smith's mysterious
music, that for those who give it their time, will magically get under
the skin.

“Wig’s
as skilful a picker as a Spanish flamenco master, generating and
altering the rhythm of his songs in a way which makes it appealingly
difficult to predict where they will go next.”
Jumped Up Pantry Boy.
“Wig
Smith plays a fiendishly complex 21-stringed kora like a dulcimer
mutedin velvet with fragile and charming songs about snow and toes.”
Venue Magazine



Currently listening:
Parplar
By Larkin Grimm
Release date: 2008-10-27
Monday, January 05, 2009 

Current mood:  thirsty
Category: Music
here are the lyrics to my album...

1.Frost       (based on the russian fairy-tale known as twelve months or, in russian, dveenatsat meesyatsev)

We've woken to lots of snow,
Sana said "mother, I think that we cannot go -
out into the cold and windy morning,
where father frost comes leaping through the boughs.".

We've woken to wind that blows,
Sana said "mother, I've nothing to let me know -
how to salve a suitor singing blue songs
that numb me more with every word I hear, I fear here".

We've woken to lots of snow,
Father fled, heavy head, out to the forest road.
We've woken to wind that blows,
coat of fur hugging her, under the branches low.
"Daughter, how did you survive the harsh night?"
"I spoke to him with words as soft as snow"


2.Elm tree tall       (about dutch elm disease)

Once twenty-five men crown to sole,
the time of the last elm tree tall has passed.

So fall the fruit that will not grow,
no saplings shoot once the snow has passed.


3.Ivy       (though the song is inspired by autumnal virginia creepers -which are deciduous but look like ivy. 'virginia creeper is embarrased' etcetera wouldn't have worked so well...)

Ivy is embarrased,
turns red,
for fear she has offended the summit slopes.

Your hair, says she,
snow white at the crown.
Shortly it will work its way down from the roots.

Ivy is ashamed,
turns her face away.
Stems snap, leaves fall
like red cards wave
to indicate foul play.

4.Sprigging him with tansy      (complicated explanation. to sprig someone with wild tansy is to declare war. Im not a warmonger but the song was originally a poem inspired by someone who made me angry. Anger is better when it comes out in songs and not in fists)


The sodden bilge engulfs the boat:
you work like a scrimschander,
make snakes in my bones.

The lines have appeared to itch,
since I learnt their language.

A coil will not land in the same pattern,
the knot will not knot itself into a noose -

After muddying a verge,
the tansies, ever hardy to dirt,
are washed by the rain -
fit for sprigging again.

The lines have appeared to itch
since I learnt their language -
so at times I do regale them
with a flying bowline and a song that came at sea -
cover up your mouth when it is open,
yours words are a fog so thick i cannot see.

No charity for my fare,
just a stalk the stem is bare.
I can see it in your cheeks,
out in pink the roses peek.

The lines have appeared to itch
since I learnt their language.


5.The sentience of toes     (from a poem i wrote about spring-time and the feelings of my toes. in brackets is the unsung part of the poem)



(Cold solstice passes,
performs the inversion of curfew.
A steady drip of day,
and nights saturation ensues.
Then flora comes, all vernal,
brings a nascent rust to the copper boughs.

Toe nails still yellow,
I purge and preen,
for soon I will adorn my little piggies with leather thong.)

Hush now, dawn birds :
We ten pink fingers of the foot
are meeting with a snail and a slug,
in warmly dewed morning grass.

This winter we were kidnapped,
bundled into socks.
Our home is the moss at goblin combe.  

Then two starlings halted mid-song,
so hungry from their morning mantra,
hopped off pronto, from the envy of their watchful foe.

And look! Spider got a bumblebee.
Bad start to the day.


Stop, step down,
a tread of mud gives way,
paints our pale faces brown.

(We mulch like a pot of stodge.)
We know the cost of keeping balance.



6.Rosie      (something my friend Rosie said when we were on holiday in cornwall)

Rosie said -
"love must be like the motion of the sea, churning over rocks."



7.Bellows song      (about the day my friend Rosie told me Saul Bellow had died)


On the day a poet brought bad tidings to the ferryman,
he diverted all attention from his task
to indulge in her sentiment
by looking to the clouds.

To the high horizon,
amongst the abundant blue,
were the beards of three frail grandfathers
dispersing there, effortlessly,
in the new spring sun.

And at that moment,
the prevalence of unobstructed sky
metaphorically swapped elements
to reflect on a mind-flood of thoughts
as intense as rivers overflowing
where water allows only lofty summits to show.



8.For an apple        (inspired by, and a sort of homage to benjamin britten's ceremony of carols which i sang as a choirboy in the cathedral with the harpist merrissa robles. About religion by default, and my renouncement of it as an adult, and also about the day i was working on the ferry and a lady told me it was impossible to whistle after eating an apple but i discovered she was wrong)

We never say deo gratias,
we came away from those days
when we said deo gratias.

All was for an apple,
an apple that he took,
as clerkes do find a-written in their book.         

Lady says
"its impossible to whistle after eating an apple"
Nay, I do discover,
performing my feat,
though it is a fruited sound,
my mouth being moist and sweet.

And all was for an apple,
an apple that he took,
as clerkes do find a-written in their book.

We never say deo gratias,
we came away from those days
when we said deo gratias.


9.Keeper of the swans          (edited from an unrequited love poem i wrote. the full poem is here : http://www.poetrycritical.net/read/37773/ )


Our hearts are folded -
it takes two to make a full frame.

And over the murksome mirror
comes a graceful brute to beak my dusky face.

This line of sight lays bait for thought,
and I lose my light to the food which is sought.

I truly wish to be feminised -
your chapped fingers startle my entire thrill
but there's soot over me,
and the finest chimney sweep I ever did see
is only to be had in a cloud of something i do not breathe and cannot precipitate.





10.Ashevak        (inspired by a sculpture entitled 'flying shaman' by the inuit Karoo Ashevak)


I am the bridge on a river
which shocks each mute couplet
to a grunt.

I see you come,
I see you go.
I cast a shadow even when the night is black.





11.Threecliffs song         (it was written on the beach at three-cliffs bay in the gower and the words are superfluous. its about feeling exhilarated)



Lo, the good man sings I am still with you after all
the winters, springs and summers,
Im still with you when the leaves, they fall.




There are some more poems here - http://www.poetrycritical.net/~sisotowbel/
if you're interested.

See ya later,
w x


Sunday, March 18, 2007 

Fish carcass and sea sponge.
All those pebbles, potential for thopping.

Full of rich italian food,
old codger Gordon strolls with an arthritic limp,
imitates the morose popular song.

Skeleton of the old pier still standing,
a slight haze on the evening,
the sunken promenade suggests a beached whale.

I wait at the counter for coffees,
ogling the compelling scottish man in his dirty trousers.

Stunned by the surreal to actual simultaneousness of the sea.

I wonder about people vomiting in toilets on the pier,
and if it gets emptied straight into the sea:
a liquid eclection of pebbles,
the entire spectrum of stonish hue.

The sponges are poised, suicidal,
on the crests of tided shingle.
A grated tunnel in the sea wall
imbecilically poses as an outmoded method of torture.

The pigeons flock, linguistic,
a mass of mismatched consonants
and vowels bannering the blue.
My suggestors:
flickering like an overfed thought.

Beg for forgiveness, they attempt,
flying through the piers underparts.

Side-tiding towards me - a body?
It is many things -
a diver, disembodied whale-fin,
a pair of mating seals,
axil of a ripely shaped tree,
a sloth of a squid drifting effortlessly.

Tuesday, January 30, 2007 

Grass under my feet, the lake frozen at prospect park - the clearest sky, the birds do sing. Banana pancakes with maple syrup for breakfast.

Through the trees, a bird entirely red hops the branches, head-ruff tufting all galea-like. A man power-walks past me, his breathing rhythmic like a train.

Witch-hazels in the botanic gardens - ochre tendrils of blossom extrude disorderly - the grated peel of orange, collated like submerged anenome. Then another, like lemons.

In the Japanese garden, a single leaf skates across the pond. I am sat just above water level. Something akin to a heron arrives on the opposite bank, its long neck hunched over the ice. Now, in profile, a hieroglyph.

A mottled brown rascal hops over planking, enters the peaceful scene, returns skywards in a flurry, startled by an unknown. As each lone leaf approaches over the ice, it plays to me, subtly percussive.

Vines across the trellaced roof, the winter bones of a bearer of fruit. The bird steps down to the ice, tentative - slips, exhibits what could be construed as embarrasment. This hour has been divine.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007 

Grand central station, painted constellations.Staten island ferry, coffee and doughnuts.Bitter cold fingers, going to pete's mandolin shop.

Met a sweet lady from kiev on the 48 to forest avenue. She was pleased i had made my own hat, was knitting pink mohair with slender needles, told me where to find the finest yarn on staten island. Jumped off at pelton for the mandolin shop, played some lovely banjos, a perfect guitar - very dear though.

Waiting for the bus, craving a walk in the woods but i know there's no forest at the end of the avenue. Back on the bus, same lady from kiev, says she's bus-sick and jumps off early, wishing me good luck.

Words inspired by Karoo Ashevak (inuit artist) - flying shamen (sculpture) :

See my age and wisdom -

how the sun has baked my face like the bed of a dry river.

I have a mouth for tasting the hearts of deep hunters.

My tubular teeth protrude, harsh and raw, but neat as a turret. 

Through me runs an endless moat - I am the bridge and tunnel which shocks each mute couplet to a grunt.

I see you come, I see you go, I clap my wings of grainy bone. I am a fish, a stone, a crow - I cast a shadow even when night is black.

 

Bumped into a lady at the end of her tether, searching for beaver street - i pointed out we were right next to beaver street but from where she was standing, the roadsign was obscured by another roadsign - she trotted off happily, shouting back that she loved my accent.

Went up empire state, ears popping with the sudden altitude, terribly annoyed by the endless money-spinning diversions - walking round and round and round. Finally got to the top, the view - dazzling, and really quite peaceful amidst a slight flurry of snow, though the security guards do not allow sitting - pourquoi? hmm?

Brooklyn, late afternoon, driggs and robbling streets, bught two shirts from the thrift store - 'beacons closet', rifled around in 'junk', which is aptly named, though it would be heaven for someone obsessed with fixing things.

Grim sushi, carrot juice, and blueberry muffin for dinner, then wound my way to avenue A in the east village for the legendary open-mic at sidewalk cafe - crammed, a smiley blond waitress taking orders for drinks, a mixed bunch of music - the highlight being 'domino', a hilariously quirky lady singing (badly) "i am good cheese, you can eat me for dinner; i am mild cheese, i go well with salads; i am stinky cheese, not so good with lobster; i am delicious cheese" etc. she had a slight lisp and kept bursting into giggles - twas thoroughly entertaining.

Monday, January 22, 2007 
Words inspired by art from the museum of american folk art:
 
Martin Ramirez :
Trains, and tunnels of towering petals,
a golden transom, colossal mane.
Egypt is in the colour,
faded paper like papyrus,
shades of fire and sky at dusk.
These tunnels are the stomach flesh of worms,
their corrugated husk can be animated by my finger.
Marilyn extracts the brain of a mexican boy,
readies it for the pickle jar,
coils her monkey-tail
round the trunk of a palm.
Down in the courtyard of skunk and doe,
a train can be heard traversing the cloister.
 
Zoo of tin-can creatures - unknown artist:
I have captured ladybirds in my fin,
and wave my bulbous antennae with satisfaction.
I sit with a pearl on my tongue,
knowing it is best to salivate
with small stones sucked to the pallete roof.
I may look miniscule,
but compare my posture
to that of the strawberry dog :
he has brutal pincers
but such ragginess of tendril - pah!
I am strange incarnation of medusa,
banished to a ruby-headed realm -
my snake tongues dazzle you.
I am a coffee-table
with the head of a stork,
feathers of a phoenix -
marvel at my companions, eldritch arachnids who,
in spirit, encountered men
at the raid of hapshetsut's tomb.
Walking forever with them now
is the foggy blood of sloth.
Saturday, January 20, 2007 
19/01
What do people think about on buses when they are listening to techno?
Dank sweaty clubs, pelvis thrusts, fuck faces, snorting in the toilets?
See, I understand dancing to it, but see few other merits - me, I listen
to Pierre Bensusan, for example, imagining a kind diligent French man
that takes regular walks in the woods, perhaps he has a little pig that
sniffs for truffles, and when he gets home he would eat rough pate on
french toast with sliced vine tomatoes. And Bjork, who stands in the sea
to record her vocals, wraps gum around her fingers, has played every
organ in iceland. We roll over slight hills. To me, in this context, techno
is the aural equivalent of sitting in a call-centre office.
Farty man sits next to me on the plane, stereotypical dutch moustache,
grunting 'beer' at the air hostess.
Diane has made me a nest of a green woolen rug she named after a
turner cody song, boils water for tea in a chinese herb-pot. It finally
clicked I was in america when i saw the roads outside nostrand subway
in Brooklyn, which i found thanks to a girl called chelsea and a banker
from tower wharf.
Bought some tobacco from the store, asked a cop for directions, he
urged me to be careful around here. Thin and isolated scatterings
of snow, tall handsome buildings. Diane's crumbling block - smokes on
the red oxide balcony, my nest smells of herbal tincture. Friendly
cockroaches circumnavigate jar-lids, congregate in drawers next to the
oven.
20/01
Snow! oh lovely snow! how happy am i?!
Went for a walk down nostrand avenue, twas bustling, saw about five
white people in an hour. Hannah in a fit would love it, roads that go on
forever, she could walk, wak, walk.
Sat on the balcony while someone cleans their car, playing 'no diggity'
full blast. I keep getting blown by dust of snow - there must be a word
for that, I should ask an eskimo. I inadvertently blend again - browns reds
and greys.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007 
Cold solstice passes,
performs the equinoctial inversion of curfew.
A steady drip of day, undwindling,
and night's saturation ensues.
Then flora comes, all vernal,
bringing a nascent rust to the copper boughs.

Toe nails still yellow,
I purge and preen,
for now I will adorn my little piggies with leather thong.

Hush now, dawn birds :
We ten pink fingers of the foot
are meeting with a snail and a slug,
in warmly dewed morning grass.

This winter we were kidnapped,
bundled into socks.
Our home is the moss at goblin combe.

Two starlings halted, mid-song,
and hungry from their morning mantra,
selected the juicy morsels,
and hopped off pronto, from the envy of watchful foe.

And look! Spider got a bumblebee.
Bad start to the day.

Where is he taking us now?
It's the torture machine, bicycle.
We feel all sickly.

Stop, step down,
a tread of mud gives way,
paints our pale faces.

We mulch like a pot of stodge.
We know the cost of keeping balance.


Tuesday, January 02, 2007 
This must be one of the giant redwoods they talk about -
it looms like authority over infants and is greatly enjoed by spiders.
It is a curious alien amongst common pine,
a rigid pillar in the lanky sway.

Goat bells chime their pleasant dissonance,
unlikely companions to todays sun, the tropical mimic,
which webs through spacings in the thin needles.

The wood is soft on my back -
this hulk hosts with greater generosity than it's deciduous colleagues.

Such an intriguing array of colour and shape -
branches tusk like obscure orchestral clefs.

Like a silly oaf,
this tree has been tricked into growing upside down,
and probably feels quite lonely -
perhaps it is shunned by bigoted insects,
reluctant to build a community with this foreign beast.

Sometimes I glimpse bears,
but realise they are dry needle clumps,
posing like brown ankle hair.

I am altogether pleased to be sat on your fat limb,
so here, I'll bite you so you feel wanted.
Not tasty, I have to report,
but you crunch like an apple and that will suffice.

Were this my land, I would surely live in you to share the view,
and at my end, be picked apart with a satisfied smile.
I do not envy your relative permanence -
I always have been a humble temporary compared to what springs from the earth.