Bank Holiday Monday and besieged by gloom. Spent the morning sullenly throwing things away and filing paper. Had gloomy conversations with MJ three and a half thousand miles away. And slightly more cheerful ones with Mum and Mason. Went for a gloomy walk in the afternoon by the sea, then more cheerfully down to meet Reuben and pick up the Is this you? painting I'd bought, which I am very pleased with. The Outside In show being taken down this afternoon after what appears to have been a justly successful run.
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Bank Holiday Sunday. Somewhat anxious and out of sorts today. Spent the morning cleaning and organising my house, and shuffling through reams of paper -- but with the result of feeling like I'd accomplished very little. Beautiful day outside. Sarah, who is quite heavily pregnant again, and her pretty daughter Amelia who is approaching two came by today. Felt sorry for Sarah who has a mountain of things to cope with... Court cases; fighting her own unfair dismissal; trying to sell her house; being pregnant; and the aftermath of having been very worried about Frase after his heart operation. Her daughter is clearly a source of joy to her parents, being very sweet-natured and cheerful. Later we went with Anton, Anna, Brian and Baby Klauds down to the sea. The weather meanwhile had turned cold and it was quite chilly as we sat outside a cafe eating. Anton and I played with the kids on the swings. After found a cafe venue called the Sanctuary, which is a venue for fringe plays and poetr
Wandered out to buy bread and a newspaper as the shops in the Lanes were beginning to open, and just kept walking. Feeling really happy with Brighton. Love all the music drifting from shops and cafes, and with few people about it was easier to notice the little eccentricities that make up the Lanes; a building with zebra stripes, odd carved faces, the graffiti art commissioned by shops, and all the quirky displays in the windows. Wondered into one selling graphic novels and comics because I have been working on my Mighty Thor monologue again, and the guy at the counter and a customer older than me having an informed and passionate discussion about the genre. Nice to be in a place with its own identity and enthusiasms. Borrowed some tools from Anton, and then ignored them all day, focusing instead on doing laundry, and sorting out the mounds of paperwork that I seem to have accumulated. Mike told me recently that Alan Sugar says that he regards every piece of paper left on his desk at t
Friday lunchtime and all is well. Weather very hot outside, inside the agency an air of slightly jaded cheeriness after large party last night, on an S&M theme and organised by my chums in finance. After yesterday's evening of steady quaffing, and heroic efforts with the knife and fork, plan A was to melt away after showing my face. However it turned into a fun evening, with an excellent drag artiste providing ritual humiliations and songs, plus other fun to be had licking vodka from pornographic ice sculptures and on two occasions being attacked by Max with her leather flay, despite the fact that due to prengnancy she stuck to drinking coke. And it was only while dancing with a six foot inflatable penis at about 9:30 did the call of the seagull assert itself again. Managed to return home on the train without exposing genitals to anyone which made a welcome change to the night before. Anton working in London today, so commuted in with him this morning. He told me about his ne
Damned ankle broke down again, so have temporarily resumed orc like loping. Despite this I had a splendid night last night, after what was a rather hectic day at work. Met Matty boy and Kate and the French Bloke and sat outside the Blue Anchor by the river in what appeared to be sunshine. Matty boy has just taken a voluntary redundancy, and is cheerfully contemplating weeks of summer idling before being snapped up by some species of forward looking organisation or other. First matie on good form too sipping rose, and pressing a copy of Jane Eyre on me which I will read after I have finished the Obama book. The FB having to slope off back to work after a few minutes. The tractor fancier then went home leaving Matt and me to go to the The Bridge restaurant where we ate food outside in the garden, and both burbled on the phone to long-suffering MJ. I ate venison despite it being rather dear. Arf. Matt kindly guided me into a sherbert to head for Victoria. Vile interlude on the train where
A bit brain dead lately. Reading and enjoying Obama's book on the train. Listening for the second time as I type to the talk by the Buddhist Sogyal Rinpoche that Sophie gave me. About how fundamentally happiness and suffering depends on the mind and the heart, and how the mind perceives through the five senses. Which is a pretty nice thing to give someone. In fact I shall give it my full attention.
Anna & Anton busy vomiting today so I took Baby Klauds out for a long walk so they could get some sleep. Klauds looking at me, as Anton readied her, in a penetrating and slightly disapproving way. But as soon as we hit the pavements she slipped into an untroubled sleep. A lovely day to be walking around in, with the sea very green, and the pier busy. Did a spot of shopping in the Lanes which I brought back to the twitten, where Klauds woke up and silently resumed disapproving look till I took her back home to an ill and wussy-looking Anton. Very enjoyable anyway, with only a faint dash of paranoia about her howling at some point and the police taking turns to cosh me in a cell for abducting her from her parents. Otherwise talked to mum who was making a copy of an earlier painting to sell, and talking about her Spanish teacher who is also a fan and want to buy her work. Then exceedingly enjoyable conversations with MJ about ghosts, among other things. Told her that Jack's interr
Very cheerful Saturday night with Sophie in Highgate. Sophie and I met at Warwick University where we studied Philosophy and Literature, and shared a place. For some reason we'd not spoken to each other properly in years, and it was only the second time I had met her husband Andros. I had never spoken to her children Electra and Cristof either. It was a big day for Cristof, who is eleven, and had just bought an electric guitar which he was playing enthusiastically when I arrived. Electra was very funny, chatty and full of life, recruiting me into doing cats cradles, which I was useless at, and talking Greek... Ditto. Andros put the kids to bed leaving Sophie and I to drink some wine and talk. I was fascinated to hear that she has become very interested in Buddhism, and gave me a cd to listen to. She showed me her office upstairs where she runs a successful PR business. She has persuaded me to go to the retirement party of our old Personal Tutor Martin Warner, which will be interes
Jetlag fog beginning to abate. Extremely sad to wrench myself away from Mary Jane and Jack and Kate in the sun at Northport railway station. Already badly missing MJ. Had a good holiday, but inevitably it felt too short. Found myself getting on really well with the kids too, which was clearly a good thing. Easy journey back to Newark however, and the flight home wasn't too traumatic. Sat next to a chatty ex-nurse who now worked as a flight stewardess, which I considered a good CV for someone obliged to sit next to me in full flight horror mode. When I reached the UK I turned on my phone and discovered I was supposed to meet Mike that morning at Great Ormond Street Hospital for Children. Made my way straight from Gatwick to London, arriving in London early. Ate breakfast in an Italian cafe in Fleet Street and walked up to meet Mike past the Old Curiosity Shop, which of course made me think of MJ and the Pies. Mike and I were given a tour around the hospital. Both of us genuinely ins
Getting ready to head back to the UK. Have had a fun time here doing quite family oriented things. Have built bridges with Jack and Kate, who are definitely quite relaxed with me now. Enjoyed, for example, sitting in Penn Station waiting for the train to Long Island eating hot dogs. Especially when I decided to use the camera function on my phone to take photos up the kids' noses. Travelled into Brooklyn to visit Weezer Jnr. and Troy. Amazing apartment covered in art. They are both painters with hugely contrasting styles. Weezer's (aka Diane June's) art has representational elements which are flattened into an almost silkscreen effect. She uses house paints, and her choice of colour is for me one of the most striking aspects of her work. Troy June seems incredibly prolific, painting on wood often. Lots of small paintings which climb in one huge group up the walls in the high walls of their apartment in a converted chocolate factory. Mostly representational in style, Troy
So here I am in Long Island, MJ is off at work and Jack & Kate are at school and I have a couple of hours to gather myself. Lovely to be with MJ, she raced down to Northport station with wet hair to collect me and leapt out of her car, left in the middle of the road, to hug me. Journey was execrable due to some species of bladder infection which flared up this week. At last I had finally found the one thing that could make flying suck even more. Despite being more than half way through the pills, not much seems to be improving. However is a useful insight for when I am next writing about incontinence at work. I understand toilet mapping like never before. Considering writing a user's guide to US public conveniences. Under Another Sun's gold award must go to the platform 1 toilet in the Amtrak waiting room at Newark airport station. The waiting room was empty bar me and the man who had elevated toilet cleaning to an art form. He watched with narrowed eyes as I walked into on
Monday night, and writing this just before I slide off to bed as am feeling unusually tired. Had a nice Saturday night and Sunday staying with Mum and Mason. Blurted at them about Mary Jane for quite some time, which they took in good heart. Went to Hatfield House again on Sunday for the craft fair. Lots of good work, and things to do and see, and pies to be eaten. Best of these was the Punch and Judy, which I absolutely love. It is so barbaric. Feeding the baby into a sausage machine, lots of whacking with sticks and so on. And mobs of little kids all shrieking at Punch when the crocodile appeared. Also Morris dancers, which Mason was busy laughing at for skipping about waving their white hankerchiefs in the air. One of the Morris dancers was dressed as a hart, and looming humorously over bystanders. Sunday was beautiful, with the odd shower. Mason telling me that when his cataracts came on that the thing he most missed was green and trees. We were looking at the grounds of Hatfield
Just returned from the show that Reuben has curated called OutsideIn -- bringing street art home . Went with Anna and Baby Klauds and we really enjoyed it. The place was as thronging as you'd want a private view to be. Reub every inch the dashing curator. The art had a real street art flavour and spread out beyond the usual confines of how art is shown, climbing up the walls and generally covering surfaces. Most interesting to me were two installation-like zones that were like a living room and a kitchen, which had been interfered with. Lightswitches and fridges graffitied over, for example, rather decoratively. And bizarre wallpaper. Lots of little “Is this you” canvasses done by Reub too, of which I asked him to red-dot one for me. As Reub's ticket invitation said "there's broken glass on the bathroom carpet. The smell of spray paint hangs in the air. And someone's done something very nasty in the living room." To the uninformed viewer like me I was also int
Back to work yesterday. Another office shuffle and we now have been moved to the part of the office I used to workin with a lovely view of the river. Little actual work going on, a momenatry lull, which is nice. General Election here on Thursday. The ward of Brighton I live in has a slim possibility of electing a Green MP. However old tribal loyalties are still making me want to vote Labour despite the conduct of Blair. Read a persuasive piece in Prospect by Matt Cavanagh to the effect that the left shouldn't cut off its own nose to spite its face because Blair has had the dirty business of actually leading the country. It is easier to be a purist out of power. Missing MJ really badly now. However have just booked another sneaky trip to New York, which I am greatly looking forward to! Remembering this morning on the train our lovely times in the West Country and swimming in a heated outside pool on the hillside with MJ and Johanna under a clouded English late afternoon sky. The lad
Bank Holiday Monday evening, and enjoyably lurking at home, doing a bit of work, and chatting on the phone to MJ, Mum and Anton after a lively weekend. On Saturday Max called me and arrange to meet her, French Bloke and Max’s Aussie pal Michelle in Brighton that evening. Had a previous with Anton and so neatly combined them. As a precaution before I went out I had pitta bread stuffed with tuna steak. Anton and I had a quiet beer where I may have mentioned MJ a couple of thousand times. Grey faced, Anton grew insistent about food so we sloped into a Chinese restaurant where I managed to fork down a second supper. Off then to Kemptown, which is a part of Brighton I’d not yet been to, and a pleasant pub called the Sidewinder, which was lively and had its own DJ. Soon joined by French Bloke and Max, and Michelle. All good fun. Unusually punctuated by two women having to be separated from scratching each other as the FB was getting a drink in. Though the two events weren’t provably linked.
