I built a house in the middle of the ocean
Up to the smoke again, still plodding about like a zombie. Still working on the gargantuan piece about how product x now comes in a larger vial, but am now able to laugh at it a little. Contented myself with a banana and slimline sandwich at lunch. Have been teamed up with a bearded Basque (not Spanish) freelance art director called Aseir for a brief on something completely different.
During the brief by Lucy (who I have worked with several times before) and a chic French Tamil woman called Anne, my stomach was growling really loudly. Watched a filmed focus group. Luckily we were able to fast forward through it as it was on a DVD, which is fortunate as there is nothing in all of marketing more liable to spark self-harming that sitting on the other side of the one-way glass watching people in focus groups being asked the same questions for an entire day.
Reading Guillaume Apollinaire on the train. Beginning to really like his work. I re-read one of his more famous poems poems which, half-remembered, has been haunting me lately. Ocean de Terre, which in the translation I have by Roger Shattuck begins:
I built a house in the middle of the ocean
Its windows are rivers which flow out of my eyes
Octopus stir all around its walls
Listen to the triple beat of their hearts and their beaks
which tap on the window panes.
...
I have an idea that's been brewing for the last few days, and this is one of its seminal texts. Its one of those poems I wish I had written, and feel that I had been left like a Shakespeare-typing monkey for a thousand years I may have written myself. I wonder if it owes anything to the octopus in The Toilers of the Sea by Victor Hugo. I just love this: I built a house in the middle of the ocean. So simple, but the building of something supposed to be secure and rooted, but in the water with all the currents and disturbing things surging through is just brilliant.
Home before 8 tonight, and a low profile, and just as soon as I go finish this, I'm off to sleep.
Up to the smoke again, still plodding about like a zombie. Still working on the gargantuan piece about how product x now comes in a larger vial, but am now able to laugh at it a little. Contented myself with a banana and slimline sandwich at lunch. Have been teamed up with a bearded Basque (not Spanish) freelance art director called Aseir for a brief on something completely different.
During the brief by Lucy (who I have worked with several times before) and a chic French Tamil woman called Anne, my stomach was growling really loudly. Watched a filmed focus group. Luckily we were able to fast forward through it as it was on a DVD, which is fortunate as there is nothing in all of marketing more liable to spark self-harming that sitting on the other side of the one-way glass watching people in focus groups being asked the same questions for an entire day.
Reading Guillaume Apollinaire on the train. Beginning to really like his work. I re-read one of his more famous poems poems which, half-remembered, has been haunting me lately. Ocean de Terre, which in the translation I have by Roger Shattuck begins:
I built a house in the middle of the ocean
Its windows are rivers which flow out of my eyes
Octopus stir all around its walls
Listen to the triple beat of their hearts and their beaks
which tap on the window panes.
...
I have an idea that's been brewing for the last few days, and this is one of its seminal texts. Its one of those poems I wish I had written, and feel that I had been left like a Shakespeare-typing monkey for a thousand years I may have written myself. I wonder if it owes anything to the octopus in The Toilers of the Sea by Victor Hugo. I just love this: I built a house in the middle of the ocean. So simple, but the building of something supposed to be secure and rooted, but in the water with all the currents and disturbing things surging through is just brilliant.
Home before 8 tonight, and a low profile, and just as soon as I go finish this, I'm off to sleep.
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