Waiting for the Phoenix

Woke after a succession of nightmares. However these soon dispelled after getting up late and speaking to a sleepy Sprinkles before she set off to work. Worked on Mum's artist statement/CV this morning and then in the afternoon went for a mooch about.

Was thinking about Gwen my grandmother this morning and remembering being sent around the corner in Guernsey to Sampson’s store to buy Du Maurier cigarettes. The box was a design classic.

Stopped in a shop called The classical longplayer and browsed about. My knowledge of this kind of music is sketchy. But I bought a CD of Stravinsky's work, including The Firebird which mum had and I listened to when I was a kid. Also prog rock legends (and my favourite teenage music) Yes used the bit towards the end where it all kicks off, as their intro music. The version I bought is conducted by Simon Rattle who has a name even I recognise. I love the idea of rising like a phoenix at the moment, I want to rise up from being run down and feeling frustrated.

I also bought Spem in Alium by Thomas Tallis. I have been playing this continuously and it is like sitting in cathedral where voices create the architecture. Lovely.

I'd seen somewhere a competition to write a monologue about ecstasy but nothing much was coming to mind. Wandered onto the pier and had a coffee looking a the sea. Then walked went into the museum next to the Pavilion and looked again at one of my favourite paintings, which I was amazed to discover here in Brighton when I moved here. Dod Proctor' s Early Morning.

Spoke to Anton enquiring after the efficacy of the phono stage.

Mooched home again, and ate some of the bean jar I had been preparing. In the evening sloped off for a quick drink with Reuben and Clare in The Great Eastern. Turns out it was Clare’s 37th birthday, although both she and Reuben seem to look unchanged from when I first knew them. Although there is a coffee table book to be made of Reuben hairstyles.

Home and another chat with Sprinkles to top and tail the day.

Below Early Morning by Dod Proctor, and my Grandmother's favourite fags.