under another sun

Up to London again. Settled into the train along with everyone else, but the driver never arrived. A pleasantly busy day at work once I got there. A rainy day which meant I could deploy my new Berghaus and watch with satisfaction the raindrops beading on its surface, rather than simply soaking in as my last coat, lost on the Brighton train, did. After work off to meet Paul, currently aka Dr Spacetoad at St Pancras. We settled into a pub and had a couple of pints and an interesting catch up. David Ryan, who had run the anarchic Troubadour poetry nights I used to religiously attend in the late 80s and early 90s had died, and he was going to his funeral. He is currently living up north, having moved back to Blighty from Paris. He speaks with some feeling about Paris, and says he is disillusioned with it. Noticed that Paul does the weird elbow thing I do, which I've not noticed in others before. Interesting to hear some of Paul's adventures as a modern Troubadour, and we parted...

Links and cycles Busy making decisions about the A Guernsey Double book today. Catriona has pointed me in the direction of the Arts Commission forms and it's time to get started with a costing. I also found that asking my LinkedIn connections about sourcing digital printers and had lots of helpful advice within an hour. A revelation. Snowflakes again, but they only made the streets greasy. Took myself out in the afternoon for coffee and a different perspective to my magic cafe. In the evening Paul called me as he wasn't gigging tonight, and he and I spent the evening catching up in the Batty and swapping some headlines from the 20 years that have passed since Paul and I used to perform regularly in the Troubadour Cafe in Earl's Court. Paul told me about the long years as a wandering Troubadour himself, and what living in Paris is like as an artist these days, saying that Paris has a soul but its people don't. He also talked me through his Dr Spacetoad incarnation. App...