Tomás Murray
@tomasjmurray.bsky.social
2K followers 60 following 8K posts
Lean left • Tom is fine • Far from the west of Ireland now • Fond of cats, jazz, old films, paintings, poetry, stout, & Sylvia • Sylvia most of all 🎷🧵 https://tinyurl.com/3bvnbyfb 🎬🧵 https://tinyurl.com/47stke59 • https://tinyurl.com/2jan4tzd
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tomasjmurray.bsky.social
My wife, Sylvia, died this morning. 💔

“When the door
scraped shut, it was the end
of all the sounds there are.

You left me
beside the quietest fire in the world.”
Sylvia & Lily (Cork, Ireland, July 2007)
Reposted by Tomás Murray
levistahl.bsky.social
Issue 4 of my newsletter, this one a commonplace book issue full of quotes about parents and children, went out yesterday. Come for one of Waugh’s children calling him a sadist, stay for a comedian reflecting on making out in cemeteries as a teen.
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
Today is Billy Higgins’s birthday. He was a jazz drummer.
Billy Higgins
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
(One day, God willing, you & I will have a conversation.)
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
(I cannot get over how much alike she & my Sophie are.)
Reposted by Tomás Murray
levistahl.bsky.social
Film noir Tanuki. Your fate has found you out.
Our cat Tanuki, a white cat with gray smudges on her head, seen in high-contrast black and white.
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
#NowPlaying* #TMCC™

(*Heaven.)

‘In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning’: youtu.be/Z_MuyKjaEKU?...
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
(. . . and I circle back around because that is what I do:)
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
(. . . and since it’s also Harold’s birthday:)
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
“Everything
on this shrinking planet favours the survival
of the small people, whose horizons
are large only because they are content to look at them
from their own hills.
I grow old,
bending to enter the promised
land that was here all the time.”
filmsonwax.bsky.social
Thinking about this today, have always been obsessed with it.
A black and white picture of a picturesque isolated home. Hiraeth n. (Welsh) A spiritual longing for a home which maybe never was. Nostalgia for ancient places to which we cannot return. It is the echo of the lost places of our soul’s past and our grief for them. It’s in the wind, and the rocks, and the waves. It is nowhere and it is everywhere.
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
(My lame attempt at humour, D.)
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
#NowPlaying #TMCC™

‘You Go to My Head’: youtu.be/QAwSrAhlcMM?...
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
(And to the individual who, when I mentioned my first jazz purchase in That Other Place™, replied “Dave Brubeck is jazz for people who don’t really like jazz“:

I do still remember your reply, sir, but I don’t recall your name.)
tomasjmurray.bsky.social
Since I can’t recall a regret, Ms P., I am going to flip your q around. When I got my first job in Dublin way back in ’88 I, on a whim*, bought a copy of ‘At Carnegie Hall’ (The Dave Brubeck Quartet) that began a lifelong love affair w/ jazz.

(*Nobody in my family knew the first thing about jazz.)