under another sun

Saturday finds me working in the office. Or more appropriately having fixed one urgent job experiencing a severe motivation bypass. Yesterday we had our Creative Conference and all the creatives were allowed to have a day of most stimulating activities. We carved clay to make a mould of our faces. We listened to a variety of talks. One from a man who looks after wolves but who avoided eye-contact with people, and another from a brace of young fashion designers. There was an interesting talk from Professor David Canter styled "the leading pioneer of criminal psychological profiling". He described the geographical patterns that burglars, murderers, rapists etc. make in their crimes, and from this pattern it is possible to infer the likely area they live in: usually somewhere in the middle. I can't say that my hair was blown backwards as if in a wind tunnel by this revelation but it was nevertheless interesting how extremely practical this was. There was no talk about whe

Still no sign of a date for moving to Brighton, but the move from Chiswick has been profoundly good for my mood. Despite going back to live with my mother it actually feels like a step forward. And I have been fed porridge coffee and toast in the morning which is a fab way to start the day. Have been burning the candle at both ends lately. Last week, for example, I went to see pop group Keane in the Brixton Academy. They were inoffensive enough with some tunes. Not knowing their stuff I very much enjoyed watching the keyboard player rolling about about on his stool like someone from the Muppet Orchestra. Worth the entrance fee alone. Daunting morning, working over the weekend on a piece for some junk mail magazine, which I have been told this morning isn't what they are looking for so back to the drawing board. Meanwhile a tsunami of work is roaring towards me, and I don't feel like doing any of it. Bah. I don't know whats' going on but Shaila, yet another old

Blissful day today. Having moved all my belongings from my flat and put them into storage. Leaving my flat in chiswick was a fantastic feeling. I associate the place with a period of uncomfortable transition and quite a lot of straightforward gloom and misery. I walked out laden with four bags, after the removal guys had taken the rest, and did not look back. It was amazingly hassle free and I felt tired but cheery all day, even as I was cleaning fridges and toilets and so on. The removal guys were fine and I also got them to pack my stuff. One reeked so strongly of garlic that I could smell him in the flat an hour after he'd gone. I love garlic and eat it all the time, but I don't think I exude garlic like that. Reminds me of when Maddog reeked of garlic for a week after getting home starving hungry and drunk with nothing other than a raw bulb of garlic to eat. Anton was working with Maddog at the time and I remember him moaning about it. I was absolutely shattered when

Have had a great time over the last few days. Spent time with comedians this week. Saw my friend Di perform in a venue called Pear Shaped in Fitzrovia. I think I enjoyed myself more than anyone else in the room. There were about a dozen comedians and seven actual audience members. The comedians were busy not laughing at one another, and the audience were assailed by a variety of material (with Di's being rather good I thought). After this I repaired to an unremarkable soho dive with three comedians, which was mildly diverting. They spent time talking about who was good, and who wasn't. Bitching like a bunch of poets. I sloped off in a cab after realising that it was gone one. Following night went out in town again on an agency jolly. I showily consumed snails and had a lovely chat with a lovely woman who'd just started. We all went to the Comedy Store where there was another night of comedy to be had, with a real audience. After this it was to another soho bar and anothe

Now clear I will have to move from my current flat. The deal for the house I am buying is stalling so I'm forced to put my stuff into storage and stay at my mother's house for an unknown period. This is extremely trying. Celebrated Paul's birthday at Le Boujoulais in town, in the members-only restaurant. Michel is a member and went into full French mode on entry. Marvellous food though. And Paul touched by a good showing for his 40th birthday. The night after I went to see Kate and Gavin in Wandsworth. Gavin cooked Brazillian steaks and we gorged happily on these. They appear very happy together in their new flat. Like most of the world, was plunged into a gloom about Bush being re-elected.

Have started swimming again. Went yesterday and today. Amazing how a stupid flu stopped me swimming for a month, and what unspeakable physical degeneration can happen in this time. Waddled about like a sumo wrestler. Ever since I had the flu I have been feeling run down and somewhat depressed, so swimming again sends a good signal to myself. Monday very groundhog day. No progress on house. Work marginally less vile, leaving now in darkness as the clocks have gone back. Dealing with an aberrant stray threat from the tax office demanding money in error, which my lovely accountant says I will not have to pay. I will have to move out of my current flat in two weeks, so it seems that I will have to put everything into storage and rely on friends and relatives for a roof over my head. In moments of abject gloom I can see this dragging on past Christmas. Watched a wonderful dvd yesterday of the film Cinema Paradiso. Top film. Was invited round to Michel and Matty's place and ate