under another sun

An early start in teeming rain. Lorraine drove me to Brighton station hideously early, where I bought a travel card to St Pancras, but due to various cancellations, got an early train to Victoria and caught a bus instead. Crossed Russel Squeare in the rain, and then popped into Starbucks below the office for breakfast. Left in reception for ages, watching the unfriendly receptionists service their facebook accounts. Loads of new people there since I last worked in Tavistock Square, but a few old friends. Slug who called me in to work on the pitch was on holiday. Karam is imminently about to be a father. And Fernanda who I will be working with had a gall bladder operation last week.   No brief however, so spent the morning idling a bit. Managed to follow up on Island Review about my poem, which they accepted about a year ago. Their reply to me must have gone astray, and rather embarrassingly they had published it last week.  Nice to see The Remembering Cliffs get a breath...

Web-site slogging Woke at an infernal 5.00pm this morning in a cold sweat. The cat delighted of course and kept putting her face in mine and making quizzical noises. Eventually I got up at 6:30. Up to London again for another day writing a website about premature ejaculation. Pretty much a hard slog all day. Walked back through London taking a couple of night snaps, while listening to The Night Watch , which I have now almost finished. Home approaching nine. A bite to eat and thinking of beddy-byes. Below the fountain in Russell Square. Particularly pleased with the blurry ghost figure in the background. And outside the British Museum. It was putting me in mind of de Chirico as I was walking past it, brightly lit and empty.

A happy Monday Lorraine has exchanged! She is finally moving house next Monday. Thank God. Walking through Russell Square in the sun this morning, and there was a man outside the cafe wrapped up and enjoying a coffee. For some reason he reminded me of Mase, and within a minute Mase, who is not usually in the habit of calling me at 9:30am, was on the phone discussing art show tickets. Funny how often we unconsciously summon one another, and how matter-of-factly this phenomenon is treated. Up to the smoke again to work on premature ejaculation. After a brief photoshoot Pat forced me me into where I was photographed pushing a wall and embracing a slim lady, there is a slim chance I will be the face of premature ejaculation in Europe. The FB reminded me that he had to be the face of erectile dysfunction for 5 years (on a site that we'd created) so it was only fair. A frightening call from the bank at lunchtime. Apparently I had an overdraft of 3K, which was news to me. Hurried back to ...

A moment of magic Onto the train at the last moment and walked along and found Reuben. Had cups of tea from the trolley and chatted enjoyably all the way to Victoria, he seems well and enjoying his new baby Aubrey, and pleased the other three boys seem to like him too. Tubed to Embankment and then walked through St Martins and by the side of the British Museum through Russell Square and up to Tavistock Square, where there is a bust of Virginia Woolf. As somebody said on Radio 4 recently, the Bloomsbury group lived in squares and loved in triangles. I felt elevated walking in the warm, autumnal sunlight. Feeling a magical surge of cheer in Russell Square watching the pigeons plump up in the fountain, and passing a man meditating in the morning light. One of those moments when you feel protected and taken care of, which left me with an afterglow all day. A long day and evening finishing my scripts for their pitch. Pat and the FB have asked me to help them pitch it on Monday. Late drink w...