under another sun

Last night's dream: I was due on stage -- some kind of big break -- but was let through a door to reach backstage but instead I found myself on the street outside, and couldn't get back in to the building. Dreams like this most nights at the moment.  Up and after going outside to check on the tomatoes, which makes Lorraine laugh, had breakfast and after Lorraine left, I sat at my desk, where the keyboard was decorated with Calliope's Dreamies vomit. Fortunately this was dry. Worked on podcast, the poems that have suddenly emerged, and the children's story. A lunchtime walk over Hollingbury in the sunshine.  Lorraine home at a decent time, and we had a pleasant evening eating chicken and corn on the cob. She is doing cross stitching patterns all the time, and is finding it incredibly therapeutic, and she is getting really good at them. Lorraine wanted to watch Death in Paradise again, which I'll admit to being curiously comforting.

Vivid dream just before we got out of bed this morning. I was trying to stop a child from falling, held onto his Guernsey jumper, but he slipped out of it and tumbled onto a harbour floor at low tide and was horribly injured. I blame Anton for banging on about Guernsey jumpers the other day. Feel like Frasier Crane this morning. What did the little boy represent? Me? My inner child? Something precious I was unable to hold onto, and if so what? Or did it mean absolutely nothing? A chat with the Tobster this morning, now safely at Mum's place, and having tramped about in Hampstead with Mum yesterday afternoon. I am meeting Mum and Toby up in London on Friday, which I am really looking forward to. I sketched out a new idea for a short story, but far more seductive was the idea of slipping off the surly manacles of work and walking about in the sun, a spot of 'if in doubt tidy' tidying, reading and watching Apollo documentaries. Too much of this sort of thing, however,...

Another terrible night's sleep, and Lorraine with a cough and cold. All kinds of bad dreams, one involving my shadow , a disgusting version of myself. Another recent dream was being in a plane that because it was not able to fly high enough was skimming the rooftops near the Fulham Palace Road and was about to crash into the agency I once worked at near there. Up and slogging this morning first thing, but at least I had only one job to get done. Worked at this all day almost unrelentingly, till it was sent off late in the afternoon to mes amis in Paris. So the slog, temporarily, ends and I can focus on getting the Janet and Ken situation better managed. A sigh of relief, then I walked to Hove, albeit rather slowly as I have had one of those exhausting sore throats all week, and went to sit with Ken. Reem was there, making me laugh being entirely natural with Ken, and a carer who had dropped in. Reem and the carer left and I sat with Ken and we had over one hundred identical c...

Sock stealing Mad dreams. My fishes had all bred and I needed to find a new tank for the fry before they were eaten. Found myself on a farm full of huge stampeding cattle. Then on a tractor that tipped over breaking my leg, but nobody would believe it was broken. I then punched a belligerent man's face and woke up. Exhausting. Crumpets and coffee with Mum and Mas. I asked Mas if he had experience post traumatic stress after returning from Korea, and he said he hadn't. He'd been a US Marine sniper. He said the people he shot at appeared so small they might have been fleas. I met Jana for the first time this morning, who on holiday from the Czech Republic was coming around to go for a walk with Mum. Very pleasant and funny woman, and I was sorry I had to rush off. I decided to walk to Mill Hill because I am porcine. Typical to hit a fat peak shortly before being on stage and launching books etc. Before I left, Mum gave me a folder full of pictures of Skelton Yawngrave charact...

Vampires and twisters Woke up in the middle of the night feeling extremely panicky, after - of all things - a Vampire based nightmare. I have never been scared of Vampires in the slightest, and even in the dream they were risible. But once awake I had to cover several pages with scrawled mindmaps to sort my head out. When I eventually fell asleep again some two hours or so later, I had my recurring dream of twisters. I've never seen one in real life, but ever since I was a child I have often dreamt about them. Watched an immense black cloud gather over a mountain top and the funnel move down towards me, tearing at the roofs and fluttering fabrics of the far eastern mountain kingdom that my dream had taken me to. After all that, having a cup of tea on Katie's terrace was a fine and rather reassuring start to another beautifully sunny day. We walked to her office over Chiswick bridge chatting, and I had a nice trouble free day quietly biffing out a fair amount of copy before sett...

One toad, several ladies Crept into work today feeling fragile. But perked up later despite a mountain of work to finish before my holiday. Out in the evening to the Salisbury, where I met Aimee - who I'd not seen for several years - Lakshmi and Marcella. Aimee is in London (she lives in Dubai) on a course, and she is having a difficult time. Her aunt, who had been ill for a long time, died yesterday. Despite her being sad, we had a cheery night considering. We all met at the Salisbury and then had an adequate curry off the Strand, and an excellent evening of gossip and renewed friendship. A night out with the girls is a fine thing. Sleeping on the train home, when I wasn't thinking about golden toads that is. For Christiane and I have been corresponding on the matter. I consulted the ever-reliable Dictionary for Dreamers and became interested in the contradiction between the ugly toad and its golden quality. Christiane was looking into native American totem stuff... where toa...

Pies are BAD Walked today down by the sea at lunchtime, after stocking up on sore throat pastilles and Lemsips. The tide was high, and it was sunny and it felt better to be alive than it had done for a while. A man was playing with a yellow toy airplane with a little engine. This drew half a dozen onlookers as he made it do aerobatics against the blue sky and something about this was very cheerful. Bright clean light. I crunched down on the pebbles for a while just breathing in the sea air mixed with the honey and lemon of my sore throat sweets. Noticed half a dozen cuttlefish shells washed ashore, and an unusual amount of people taking photos of the sunlit sea. Went home via Waterstones and enjoyably lurked about about buying some books, including a Poetry Writers Handbook which mentions AnotherSun.co.uk my dormant e-zine. Makes me wonder if I should resurrect it. Also bought a book by Paul McKenna called I can make you thin . A while ago I bought one by him on changing your life in s...

More Lynch A good deal more lively today, and able to walk further without feeling unsteady on my pins like some sort of Victorian maiden. I decided I am going to go back to work on Thursday after what has been the worst flu I can remember having. The night before full of strange dreams. Of standing by an orchestra which was playing such a protracted deep note that it was making the air lumpy and tactile. Also dreams set in Guernsey which happen all the time. Watched the David Lynch film Mulholland Drive. Quite Twin Peaky in some ways. Difficult to interpret, very dark and dream-like and with conflicting narrative threads and just lots of stunning scenes and disturbing bits flecked here and there with humour. Looking forward to watching it again, which I don't often feel with films so soon after. I really admire the strangeness Lynch is able to inject into everything - just like no one else. Looking forward to being able to focus better. Feeling frustrated to have an agenda for ch...