under another sun

First of the Month. Pat confirmed I have a week of freelance work to look forward to next week.  Just as well as the Chiswick agency's pencil for next week failed. Otherwise I slunk indoors, working on the horror story, although not so fluently as earlier in the week, waiting for another section of the story to open up before me magically. Lorraine working from home first thing this morning, which was nice. In the evening, after L got home from work, and I had a short walk, listening to the beginning of The Exorcist , by William Peter Blatty. Starts ominously, which is what you want with horror. In the evening, L and I jumped in a cab and went to the Station pub in Hove. John and Matt were setting up for their gig. Confusingly, their band, Body Talk, have a new bassist, also called John, who sports a near identical beard to our John's. They have a new singer, called Amy, who was pretty good too. This leaves  Matt to focus more on guitar and some backup vocals. They played ...

Up and a bit of my work, and a bit of tidying, before zooming off to my glass class. Another enjoyable session, where I did lots of soldering. Coffee afterwards with most of the class, and hung about chatting with Chris at the end. This done, I simply slipped around the corner to call in on Helen, and we listened to the entirety of act two of the Centaur opera, to which she had done lots of work, really sounding convincing now. Perhaps it was having been to Glyndebourne recently, but it helped me imagine it being sung on stage more easily too. Good to see her for a while, and escape into a world of music. Then I walked home. Lorraine having a bit of a wretched week at school for various reasons I won't go into here. Home, however, and we caught a cab and zoomed off down past Preston Park where a big fireworks display was going to happen, down to the Station pub in Hove again, where John's band Body Talk was playing again. Always nice to see Betty and John, and I enjoyed cha...

A rather blissful Friday, with a couple of smidges of agency work to be done -- and postponed some other stuff till monday so I could do some urgent stuff to get A Glass of Nothing rolling. Had an exceptionally productive few hours sat in Starbucks. I just wanted to escape the house and it worked a treat. I find the anonymity of Starbucks strangely helps. All the not being able to work on in meant that once I did that a huge amount of it seemed to slot into place right away. Suddenly I saw how I could underpin the three sections of the play with an overarching dark theme and got writing. I have had the set up for a long time, but I can only compare it to being some kind of detective. You keep looking at the opening scene hard enough, and the clues begin to reveal themselves. Wonderful to be writing freely again at something that cheers the soul. A glimpse of light. Home and once Lorraine returned from a hard day at work we jumped on a bus and biffed into Trafalgar Street. Had a Diavo...