Heidegger again on the train. Finished the Being and Time excerpts. It is all so gapingly profound and impenetrable at the same time. I like the feeling of reading something really big and clever that is forever out of reach for me. I love the language sometimes too... Like this: "Time needs to be explicated primordially as the horizon for the understanding of Being". Not much work to do today. Went for a swim at lunchtime, which I enjoyed. Called MJ walking back. I am missing her very badly this time. In the evening went out with work people, including Pat, Andy and the French Bloke, and some pleasant clients to a place called the Bluebird Restaurant on the Kings Road. Quite swanky and the food good. Had lots of wine and chatted. Left at 9:30 and made it home at 11. Slept on the train. Called my baby and then slurred off to bed.
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Listened to my brainwashing tape on the train this morning, which I'd not done for a while. Makes me feel very positive. Must be in some kind of strange cycle, with contact from university friends and so on lately, and a thirst for reading philosophy again. It was The Continental Philosophy Reader this morning. Found myself reading excerpts from Heidegger's Being and Time . Heidegger has always fascinated me, but makes my head want to explode. It is far easier to read books about Heidegger than read Heidegger himself. But reading it slowly again this morning and again on the way home I found it a mite easier going than I remembered. Being and Time asks an incredibly simple question in a very complicated way: what is the meaning of being. In the introduction he says... "Every inquiry is a kind of seeking... Inquiry, as a kind of seeking, must be guided beforehand by what is sought. So the meaning of Being must already be available to us in some way." He is saying tha
Travelled into work from Edgware. Mason up early making coffee and toast for me, which was very nice. Despite this, quite Mondayish by the time I arrived at Hammersmith, but was cheered by a lovely message from MJ at work. Had to get hacking fairly swiftly, but made time to send that nice Weezer a birthday e-card. Otherwise little happened today other than doing bits of work. Went out for a chilly half-an-hour stroll by the river, calling MJ as I turned back towards the office. The French bloke sent me this today: “This is a strange poem. I was doing some research and was reminded of a rare event called a "stone baby". It happens when the foetus (usually at a late stage) dies. In rare cases, instead of expelling it, the body converts it to calcium carbonate - in effect limestone. It is almost unknown today in the western world, in fact there are only three hundred reports ever, anywhere. Interesting that this lady chose to use a poem to resolve the loss. I don't know if i
A late thanksgiving meal with Mum and Mason. Snapped this photo as an artistic symbol of the deadly menace mankind poses to the turkey. Mason actually cooked a goose. I can't remember the last time I ate goose, but this one was tasty and a little bit gamey. There were plenty of giblets which went unused, including a long string of neckbones which I had a quick gander at. Had a nice day relaxing day however, talking to them and to Robert and Tanya, and Diane who turned up later, and was discussing a possible move to Brighton. Mum's evil back had struck the day before and she was hobbling a bit, but she self-medicated with muscle relaxant pills and gin. Helped her in the final stages of making a pumpkin pie. Loads of food and so on. In between all the festivities I carried on reading my Robert Frost poems, and spoke to Toby, who was marking books on a Sunday afternoon, which sounds a pain. Spoke to MJ twice. I am really missing her. She was a bit traumatised, however, to learn th
Woken by Ken this morning phoning to double check that I will be attending his 75th birthday party next Saturday. Scrambling downstairs to the phone I realised I had overslept due to a traumatised body clock. He sounded in fine form, and was saying their place in Aix was now ready, and that he had been working on the satisfying business of writing a biographical note for an academic translation he has been working on. Looking forward to seeing him next week. Otherwise feeling sluggish today. Went for a short walk down to the sea via the Pavilion. I was wearing my beany hat which gives me a large and pear-shaped head. I have a wrong face for hats unless they have large brims. Cold here, although in Brighton there is no snowfall as there has been in other parts of the country. Then off to London to see Mum and Mase. Long journey due to repair work on the tracks. I didn't feel like writing today, however, and the battery on my ipod shuffle ran out so I brooded on things in a Heathclif
Overslept this morning... Cold when I woke up. Off to work, reading more about Robert Frost. Apparently he came to England to cultivate Edward Thomas before the first world war. Thomas is in my opinion the best minor poet in English in the twentieth century. Frost is very enjoyable however. Otherwise work inoffensive and me feeling a bit dull. Nothing much on. Went to the pub at lunchtime for an hour with Marilyn, Mike, Debs and Mandy. Lurked in the work bar before slinking off to meet Paul who was haunting Hammersmith with a small aquarium. Then headed homeward and slept happily on the train, arriving in Brighton in good enough time to score myself a nice Chinese meal. Spoke to Mum and I will slip up to Edgware at the weekend. Chatted to Sophie too.
Back to work. Managed to get up on time and so on. Work was okay but jetlag made me feel very disconnected from things. Quite nice to see the Gnome, and had a quick chat with the French Bloke. Apparently Max is due to drop at any moment. She is finally off work but apparently went for a bicycle ride this morning. Email from First Matie and will hook up with her next week. Spoke to Shaila too, who is back in Blighty. Otherwise not an arduous day, thank God. Cold though! Home and spoke to MJ who is forking into turkeys in Brooklyn for thanksgiving with Weezer and Troy. I am a bit braindead but reading Robert Frost on the train. Lots of images in the poems about leaves, which having seen a little of New England is hardly surprising. Enjoying one particularly this morning called A Leaf-Treader . I like the opening... I have been treading on leaves all day until I am autumn-tired. God knows all the color and form of leaves I have trodden on and mired. Perhpas I have put forth too much stren
Landed in thick fog at Heathrow. Amazing how, with no visibility, the pilot can land a 747-400 the size of a skyscraper, so gently. As we touched down it was so foggy that we still seemed to be in cloud. Lots of tiresome lurking in the airport, decided I needed to do something about my new case which is identical to everyone-else's case. Then Zombied home from Heathrow to Brighton. I don't know what these people have been doing here. It is bloody freezing. Anton told me that it had been down to minus 7 in the last week. Home and bought some chewy brown bread ate, then slept for a couple of hours on the sofa. Caught up with Mum on the phone and lurked about for a bit. In the evening went out to the Tin Drum with Anton. Collecting him, had a quick chat with Anna who will be on TV yet again having been interviewed on the train about people using computers in the carriages. Anton on good form and looking unnaturally healthy. He's off to Madrid tomorrow. Missing MJ. Had a couple
Boo. The day of leaving. Pathetic fallacy kicked in and it was stormy and raining hard. Gloomily looking at the weather map. Storms all along the eastern seaboard boded ill for the flight. MJ and me however made good use of our last day. Went to the Hokey Pokey again... but this time armed with paper and pens and made mind maps and ate large food and drank coffee and had important, top-level discussions. Then home to make phone calls and so on and make the most of MJ's wonderful company. Later went back to the Chinese retaurant next to the railway station, for mountains of noodles and ribs. Then I caught the train and headed back to Jamaica station, after saying wretched goodbyes to MJ. Leaving her offends the gods as I have said before. Made it to the airport fairly easily and early. Lurked about feeling glum and failing to find something in the bookshop. Phoned MJ who had been crying. Went to the bar there and drank a solitary beer before boarding the plane. Amusing dialogue with
Walt Whitman twice today. Was reading his poems, which suddenly make much more sense to me having seen New England. Found myself really enjoying them. Then later to the Walt Whitman mall with MJ who was on an unsuccessful shoe hunt. Feeling somewhat sad that it was my last full day. Collected Jack and Kate from school and did some more shopping and ate some pizza. In the evening we rented a film from Blockbusters about mutant ants attacking people, and we all watched this together. Before the film started Jack became a fantastically good monster. He was lurking under the bed and doing zombie eyes and speaking in demonic voices and making everyone scream by trying to drag people into his lair. Anne and Mike have been very kind and hospitable to me, and I had a nice chat with Mike, who had come to collect Genny before the scary film came on. Genny wasn't very impressed with not being able to watch the movie though. After the film had a long conversation with Kate who gave me a corn
A morning, so there must be a diner. Denny's next to the motel I’m told is something of an American institution. Did it justice by eating a large breakfast, but later was slightly regretful that I didn’t eat a dish on offer called Eggs over My Hammy . Then into Salem. Went to the Witch Dungeon Museum and The Witch History Museum . In the dungeon museum there was a re-enactment of some of the trial by two actresses on stage, and then we shuffled downstairs into a recreation of the dungeons that the witches were stored in for safekeeping. These dungeons were full of dodgy looking waxworks, but it gave you an idea of scale -- especially the very small cuboardy spaces for witches to be tidied into. Thence to the Witch History Museum, passing a statue of Elizabeth Montgomery, the actress who played Samantha in ancient TV show Betwitched . Amusing tale of the statue's recent unveiling here . The museum was another enjoyable waxwork tour with much the same story of the bizarre accus
Off to Salem! Breakfast of home-made waffles with Mike and Anne. Mike then drove us to the care hire place where we got a gold car, he amusingly offered us a crucifix for protection. I enjoyed the drive into Brooklyn, and made me feel like we were in the The French Connection . Picked up Weezer and Troy who were armed with an interesting assortment of CDs, including some Bluegrass music played by people with eight or twelve fingers per hand. Lots of tunes in the car, and was taught by demonstration how to yee-haw! by my travel companions. New England beautiful -- I loved all the trees and the wide open spaces, and imagining what life would be like in the small and pretty towns we drove through. "Fall" more advanced here than in Long Island and the whole country seemed to be covered in leaves, and people busily engaged in apparently futile attempts to clear their lawns. Noticing again for the nth time how many flags there are in the US. Stars and stripes everywhere. Pride an
MJ and me into our suits and off to the family court this morning. Sat about for three hours waiting for the case to be called, and eventually it was postponed due to a legal technicality. Very Dantesque, with people discussing their cases with a sleaze of lawyers. Edward Hopper scenes of people sitting alone but preoccupied in the strangely featureless corridors with big squares of bright light from the sun through windows. MJ tuning into all the misery about the place. Gave her some paper to draw evil clown pictures as a distraction, and we spoke to Johanna and Michael. After discussions with her lawyer we were released from this and drove through the resplendent trees of long Island back to the Hokey Pokey again (the other places being closed) for lunch, and a much needed glass of wine. Collected the Kate from school and went to the Sweet Shop in Northport. Kate doing her extraordinary "raptor" hiss, which I copied in the car and painfully clicked my jaw. Back to school to
After the children went off to school, MJ and I went to the nearby Hokey-Pokey diner to talk each others heads off. I like diners. Not a shred of fibre to be found there of course, but made do with immense piles of eggs, bacon, pancakes, sausages and coffee, and I enjoyed the smiling turkey posters for forthcoming Thanksgiving. A lively discussion with MJ about the diner's name. MJ wrongheadedly debating the fact that the dance is actually The Hokey Cokey . Apparently in the American version they poke their butts in and not merely their left leg and so on. No idea which is the authentic one of course, but just found this which suggests that Hokey Cokey was invented to mock Catholicism. Then a lovely walk through woods by the coast to burn off some of the breakfast excesses. A fresh morning and Long Island is beautiful in a highly-coloured late autumn. We walked along discussing haiku, and Buddhism and how we were both big and clever. Afternoon, and an immense bout of playing games
Hurrah. Made it to America. THE most unspeakable flight. Hours of lurching turbulence. Fortunately the pilot said it may be bumpy before we took off so I took my emergency valium -- sadly this had worn off by the time things had got really bad five hours later. The landing too was horrid. Normally I don't mind landings but the lower we got the more the horizon slid up and down and the plane rocked from side to side. The massive air pocket we hit about thirty seconds before landing where the plane dropped like a stone did nobody any good. A wave of hysterical laughter once we had slammed and then lurched horribly on the runway. Disembarking, and one of the first things that always hits me about America is its distinctive smell. It's hard to describe; it's sugary and with a hit of cinnamon. Journey to Kings Park Long Island fairly easy. Travelling around these parts seeming quite familiar these days. Asked directions of a bizarre barking bullfrog-looking woman in the informat
Preparing for my flight to New York. Running about the place. Just back from a fast beer with Anton in The Eddy. Now poking the last bits into my case. Need to be up tomorrow at an unspeakable 4:50am. Increasingly cheery about my visit! Lurked out at lunchtime to buy a new case and en route took this snap of a full-moon-swollen Thames that was threatening to spill over the bank. Foreground Mark, background The Gnome.
Monday morning. Creative department had been moved again and I wandered about the agency till someone told me where they'd put it. Greeted by a nest of boxes and strewn stuff. Hard for me and The Gnome to focus. Flew into a rage with an unfortunate suit. Guilt forced me to go out and buy a bunch of freesias for her to say sorry afterwards. She forgave me. Otherwise nothing much happening. Looking forward massively to seeing MJ! Feeling a tad rubbish physically though. Enjoyed working on a poem, however, rewriting one of the starts I put on here in the spring into something more formed.
Introspective day, very enjoyable but little blogworthy. Working on bits and pieces of poetry and fiddling with other bits of writing. Feeling somewhat run down, and so welcomed a quiet weekend. Spoke to lovely MJ of course and to Anton. When on the phone lately or listening to the radio I have got into the habit of doing bitmap doodles. Some of them end up looking quite pretty.
Up at the crack of dawn cleaning the bathroom to prevent the plumber from contracting cholera when putting in the new toilet bowl. However the toilet bowl was delivered with a chip in it, so it is the bucket business till after I return from the states again. D'oh. Had a tidying frenzy. Threw away lots of things -- ancient payslips and statements from accounts that don't exist any more. Quite therapeutic. Thinking of Alan Sugar's comment that a piece of paper left on a desk represents a decision not made. Am trying to interrogate pieces of paper these days. What are you? Are you the sort of piece of paper that I will ever realistically do anything with? etc. It is a lengthy process. Happy to lie low today. Bumped briefly into Anna and Anton and some friends of theirs. Anton happy to be back in Blighty. Otherwise spent lots of time talking to MJ and my mum on the phone. Remembering with Mum about my grandmother's penchant for practical jokes. I'd forgotten the stor
Thinking about Wilfred Owen who was killed the day before the First World War ended on this day in 1918. I wonder how his poetry would have evolved should he have survived. Started reading The Monk and the Philosopher today on the train, a book Sophie had given me a long time ago but had slipped down the back of the bookcase. Interesting dialogue between a father and a son -- the father a French Philosopher, and his son who became a Buddhist monk who gave up a promising scientific career in research to sit at the feet of Tibetan masters. Disembarking from the train at Victoria, and a touch in the back and a whiff of sulphur and there was Spooner looking brown and slim and exceedingly well. Slitty-eyed twinkle present and correct. Dragged myself into work feeling less than lively. However, the agency has won a few pitches lately and there was a cheery feeling about the place. Caught up with the French Bloke at lunch, and saw Max too. She is very close now to full term. Spoke to lovely
Off work again today with writer's gyp. Ventured out to the quack, and a spot of food shopping as there was little to eat. Slept a lot. Chatted to MJ at lunchtime. I will have to drag my sorry butt back to work tomorrow. At least I didn't have a lengthy work phonecalls in my bed today. Watched a wonderful and traumatising documentary on BBC 2 tonight called The Last Stand . Where a TV crew had unrestricted access the recent pull out of settlers from the Gaza Strip. It was like some Shakespearian tragedy. Militaristic and extremist husband with three guns, and his extremist warrior wife who developed cancer as the stand off developed. I felt incredibly sorry for the settlers. They were incredibly brave but, to my mind, extremist and misguided. I also felt sorry for the soldiers of the Israeli Army who had to go in and drag the people away, and of course the Palestinians in the occupied territory... In fact for everyone. But ended up feeling most sorry for Datya Itzhaki (pictured
Zombie day. Took the day off work feeling wussy. Got roped into a long telephone conversation while in bed about member get member communications, and had to work through some bits with Mike on the phone. Otherwise slept a lot. Slunk out into Brighton for a few provisions. It was bright and nice. Day redeemed by talking to my beautiful MJ. We are most cheery that I will be over there soon. MJ sent me a picture of Carhenge in the Nebraska. Makes me want to write a travel book with her called Stonehenges of America.
Not a blogtastic day. Still feeling a little out of sorts but enjoyed a refresher listen to my brainwashing tape this morning. Work better today and travelled with the Gnome to another agency after hours to presented some concepts which went down quite well. Straight home tonight and managed to relight the boiler after it had been blown out, which was a boon after the ghastly struggles I had with the boiler in Thornton Avenue. Booked my tickets and holiday for a week off to visit MJ. Called her this evening, as she was laughing at Anton who was messaging her from NY. Mineral water tonight thank God. And now, joyously to bed relatively early.
A bit rough and ropy. Sluggish in the brain parts at work, which was a bit frustrating. Had to work hard to be positive today, especially as me and the Gnome had a hideous amount to do. Managed to scrape half an hour to walk by the river which was very enjoyable. Pleasant day, walked along talking to MJ, plotting my next trip to the colonies, as crows and seagulls and geese and ducks and helicopters all made themselves heard. Saw Maddog in the evening. Very good to see Bob, as ever. Had a nice Chinese meal in Soho, and generally caught up, telling me a lot about Milly his daughter, talking about Buddhism and Meister Eckhart. He also nicely gave me a beautifully-presented box of Japanese bean cakes as a belated birthday present. Very tired by the time I got home, and talked to MJ again for a bit before sloping gratefully off to bed.
Bought a new moleskine notebook today. I am very snobby about them. There's something about having a moleskine notebook which gives your jottings the proper respect. Walked down to the sea and sat in the cafe in the company of my new notebook. The weather was wild and stormy with a real gale, and stinging rain. The sky a dark blue grey, which touched the sea and shoreline with dark smudges of rain. The sea was almost khaki green and very rough, as you can see from the pictures. Really enjoyed the drama of it bursting over the groynes. Drank coffee, and watched the big waves roll by the pier for a long time. It felt like being at sea, apart from the fact there was no movement. Afterwards walked down by the sea looking at the strange flotsam. Saw several mermaid's purses, and storm-broken cuttlefish, and odd clumps of shells which I think were broken off barnacles. Matty called me and after I walked home and changed clothes I joined him and Taranjit and Craig in the Battle of Tra
John the plumber & his taciturn sidekick came at 8:30 in the morning. Turns out that the whole toilet needs replacing due to cracks and antique workings. This leaves me struggling with buckets for another week. Talking to John afterwards I learned that he is a passionate diver, and has even won an award for the most dives made, a previous winner being Jacques Cousteau which necessitated him flying to Las Vegas and giving a speech. He told me about swimming with sharks too, to get good photos of them. Had a long chat with MJ today. We are missing each other a great deal. We were feeling very cheerful talking about my next visit and she also floated the idea that Matty boy wasn't to blame for my hangover. I really enjoyed life today. But found there were just not enough hours today to do all the Peter Kenny things I wanted to do. A while ago I started doing some bitmaps with the paint thing on the computer. Now I am doing a bitmap odyssey (a rough first page of which can be seen
Brooding this morning about the badness of Matty. Woke cirque couchant * with what can only be described as a hangover: entirely bad Matty boy's fault. After another long and hard-working day, met Matty and his accomplices at the Reef bar at Victoria. (Also bumped into fellow hack Jez there, who I'd not seen for some time.) Matt and his amigos were off to Brighton this weekend to enjoy the burning of effigies and the fireworks at Lewes . I explained to Matty that I wanted an early night and would melt quickly away once in Brighton. Onto the crowded Brighton train and bad Matty had bought a bag of Magners ciders and a bag of ice and paper cups. I joined Matty and his crew in attending to those uninhibitedly and rather noisily, attracting one or two stony looks as we did so. His accomplices were Taranjit, Jeff and Craig (both American, and both nursing broken hearts. My opening line to Craig was, Hi Craig, how are you and that lovely Chiara getting on? D'oh.) And Bei and her
Me and the Gnome have been hard at work for weeks. My new re-framing approach is working. Before we start any job, I say to the Gnome, "how can we do this quickly and easily", rather than sitting about moaning about it, or expecting it to be a nightmare. This has contributed to us cracking through work at pace, and working better as a team. Broke off to speak to my beloved MJ. The only place I could talk to her was outside and it was blowing a strong gale. Beginning to plan when we next see each other again which is always an exceedingly cheery conversation. In the evening went for a meal as an early celebration of Tracey's birthday. We went to The Old Fire Station again. Incredibly noisy that so ended up lipreading those people not sitting next to me. Apart from the FB of course whose voice can be marvellously penetrating. Other attendees were Bouncy Max, Mandy, Chris and his handily named girlfriend Christine. The evening broke up early, and I caught the 9:30 train to
Watery day. A deluge this morning as I went to the station. The gutter in Guildford Road like a brook. Read all of Lamia by Keats today on the train. Got to the line Martin had used: "Philosophy will clip an Angel's wings" in his lecture at the weekend. A hectic, rather hallucinogenic poem, which for some reason I had never read. With some resonance for Mike too... Philosophy will clip an Angels wings Conquer all mysteries by rule and line, Empty the haunted air and gnomed mine-- The Gnome, blinking in the surface light, and me quickly got ourselves out of the office to work on a rebranding project. Walked in the rain along the river to the Ship where we drank rubbish coffees and mineral waters, ate Thai grub and came up with a few concepts. Slouched back to the office several hours later, a few tiresome conversations and then I was out of the office like a rat up a drainpipe. An hour's walk by the sea tonight. Lovely and rough, with crashing waves. I went to my favo
Mary Jane in court this morning to negotiate for the children being allowed to leave the US. They meet again in a few weeks. Most of the day's thoughts revolving around this. Otherwise lurked at home for the John the Plumber this morning. J the P, peering into the cistern and shaking head, "Nasty!" Me: "What do you expect... It's a toilet." Naturally my cistern needs an obscure type of valve, not a bog standard one (arf!), to be specially delivered. So till Saturday there is an unsavoury struggling with buckets. Into work late. Tired. People kept giving me lots of tedious work to do which was far from optimal. I am on mini-health kick, however, and the Gnome is copying me. For lunch I drank green tea and ate vine tomatoes, and a little humous, and a few oatcakes and fruits. The Gnome consumed a packet of six pitta breads, a family sized tub of humous and a bag of carrots. And writing a short poem about Coventry Cathedral.