under another sun

Two days in one Worked a proper self-employed 15 hours. Infomedia booths to begin with, and then had to use my loaf on the French bread project. Working from home however makes it fine and entirely do-able. Managed miraculously to do my back in without moving. Got up, had some tea and breakfast sat down at my desk on my new comfortable chair, and two hours went to stand up again, and could hardly move. Crept Igor-like off to a coffee shop to work in the afternoon for a change of scene. Otherwise spoke to Anton, and to Mum who is sounding bright and cheery today, and at length this evening to the Cat with the Hat, and Lorraine. The good news is that after tomorrow I should have less to do, and will have a chance to do some of my own stuff, which will be splendid now that I don't feel queasy and weird. Below I had some interesting correspondence with Chris Allen, who is also obsessed with this door into nothing on the Icart road. Here's a snap of it I took the other day, and an

Moths again Sunday, so it must mean work. Locked myself away for several hours writing a lengthy presentation about things called infomedia booths. Noticed as I did so that there seems to be lots of moths in my house. A week or so ago I saw one or two lurking in my wardrobe wiping their mouths on the backs of their hands, and so bought a hanging moth repeller. Perhaps it is my own fault for writing a poem called The Moth Display this year, and lurking in the Booth museum ghouling at their boards of dead pinned moths. They have put their weird feathery heads together and decided to move in as punishment. Then once I could stand no more of writing about infomedia booths, Lorraine called by, listening to Muse in her car. She likes rock music generally, as opposed to the diverse and lofty stuff I favour. We drove off to the sea, which was green and choppy, and full of white horses and people windsurfing, and para surfing and generally being hairy chested and manly. I boldly took my shoes

All white on the night Inert. Spent much of the day sleeping, and actually doing things like standing up were a challenge. I managed however to collect my new business cards, which are cool, before crashing out again. However, by the evening had enough energy to go with Lorraine to Simon's 40th birthday party. First party I've been to for ages which had music. It had a theme of white, so I wore mainly white clothes, and Lorraine wore green because I neglected to mention the dress code to her until the last minute. The dress code was rigidly applied by most of the guests so Lorraine, quite unfairly I thought, brought my big and cleverness into question shortly after our arrival. However this blew over and, sipping champagne, we talked to some friendly, interesting and arty Brightonians, which was just up my street. We were clumped about outside for warmth, for despite it having been a hot day, the evening was cool and windy. Excellent party however, with loads of nice grub and b

Tetchy returns Slightly better night's sleep. Went for a walk before breakfast, low cloud and cool this morning. Felt very emotional and weird, and weak and sick in my stomach. Went back to the hotel for breakfast. The place has few tables, several staff but grew enraged by having to ask for toast and tea three times. Amazing how simply being given tea and toast can turn into a 30 minute endurance test. Quite enjoyed the stay in Les Douvres, although amazing how inept breakfast service can colour your whole experience of a hotel. The taxi arrived early to take me to the airport. However, arriving an hour early, I discovered the plane would be delayed. Felt cheesed off by this as I wanted to be home, as I was feeling weak and queasy. Eventually after a couple of extra hours another plane was found, to replace the one which had not turned up. They had cunningly hidden the replacement plane on the runway outside the airport all along. It was called A Sprint or maybe a Dash, either way

Pens & Lens & Fotherington Thomas Up early after a dreadful night's sleep full of nightmares. Had a full English breakfast and decided to take myself for a long walk. Started at Icart Point and walked to Fermain Bay along the cliff path. Felt nauseous and weak today for some reason, but decided today was not the day for to be ill in. Another beautiful blue-hot day with a cooling breeze. The cliffs jostling with flowers like in mum's paintings, and the sea was diamonding with the sunlight. Stopped off at Jerbourg for a cup of tea, and narrowly missed encountering a member of the family who I have fallen out with, and last seen at my Grandfather's funeral. She saw me before I saw her, and I only recognised her by the look of her broomstick. Shaken, I phoned Mum and Mase, who expressed surprised that I'd bumped into so many people already. Early in the walk I found a magpie feather. One of the poems being used in Guernsey for this Pens & Lens poetry/film busi

Moving pictures Look lovely shadows, and from Icart Point looking west.

Little rituals Flying to Guernsey has all the ingredients I like: a) shortness - a mere 35 minutes, and b) the fact that I know the destination inside out, so no wondering what alien hordes are going to sweep towards you as you land, wanting to relieve you of your cash and/or luggage. The descent over Herm was lovely, banking over the greenish turquoise sea and through cotton-puff clouds. Windy and clear once we were down. Caught a cab and was soon at Les Douvres hotel, and shown to a pleasant room with that dubious delight - a twentieth century four poster bed. But clean and pleasant all round. Soon I was about my usual rituals on getting to Guernsey, I went down to my grandparents Gwen and Dave's grave and put some tasteful white carnations there, and straightened the next door grave, whose vases had been blown over in the strong wind. I also went off to pay my respects to the La Gran'mère du Chimquière and let her know I was back. She was looking fine, and adorned with flo

When le pain is no pain Took a briefing this morning for work on French bread products from my lovely French client Jeanne. After spinning about in my chair for a while thinking about what attracts Brits to French stuff I found my feet taking me the few steps down Trafalgar Street to The Real Pâtisserie . I scored a fresh baguette and then some brie and spring onions from M&S and had them inspiringly for lunch with a cup of coffee, flaking crumbs into an open copy of J-P Sartres' L'Être et le Néant . Thus fortified, off to get a haircut down by Seven Dials. There was some sort of shouty altercation going on between a bicyclist and a car driver. This caused my barber to talk about how he had been recently cut up on a bicycle and wanted to fight someone. I quickly changed the subject as in talking about it he was jabbing my head and shearing the sides with barely suppressed violence. Then an afternoon of faffing somewhat and vaguely getting ready for tomorrow's trip to G

Something almost being said A beautiful summer's day. Up very early and working at home today - the briefing I was expecting didn't arrive, so I contented myself catching up with bits of admin, paying bills and other humdrummery and spreadsheets. Spoke to Anton this morning, who mysteriously burst a blood vessel in his eye during our walk and for reasons best know to himself is telling people that I punched him. I just cannot settle at the moment, and have a restless and self-important feeling that there is something significant about to happen, although I have no idea what. Wandering about today with the sense of something almost being said. Instead of hearing anything, I had an early afternoon swim, which helped with the restlessness. Then talked to a butcher about sustainability and plastic bags. Did nothing truly creative all day, all the while trying to remind myself that this is part of the ebb and flow of things, and spent some time looking idly out of my study window. S

Under the Downs Off for a long country ramble today with Anton. Regular readers know that I live within a minute from the station. Anton, straining at the leash, appeared the traditional 25 minutes early, and we had plenty of time to score coffees in the station. One stop, just the other side of the Downs to Hassocks and then a long walk of five hours with the long line of the Downs on our left. As I've mentioned in this blog, down derives from the Anglo-Saxon for hill, as the downs are most definitely up . A strong wind today. Threading through green fields, and through farmland, among the tracks of disused railways, and through rippling fields of green corn with the first touch of gold about them was beautiful. It's amazing how much more balanced and cheery you feel after a five hour walk, as if all kinds of things have been processed and filed away without you being conscious of them. This is despite Anton interminably lecturing on SME arms for record players produced in S

A Shakey moment Last day up in London for a wee bit. I think my normal train was cancelled this morning. So I arrived late, hungover and hypochondriacal for my final morning. However all was well, and I had cleared all the work they'd earmarked for me for the week by about 10:30, so they gave me extra and I gave them good value. Crept off with First Matie for a restorative lunchtime beer at The Shakespeare. This is a pub forgotten by time and civilisation, sitting unhappily near a major road, and a sprawling Sainsbury's. The folks in the agency call it, much more aptly judging by its jaded clientele, The Shakey. It is home to about six taciturn middle aged blokes who stand at their usual positions at the bar. It has not much furniture, and what it has is strangely inappropriate. There is a decrepit and unhealthy ambience about the place, but it's handy, which is the main thing. This is where Kate's boss, who is quite a character, repairs to do most of his thinking. Des

Matty's birthday On the early train again this morning off to Mortlake and Katie's agency. Has been fun working with Kate again despite her teasing me, such as a get on with your work email. And No! pencil marks when she was checking my copy. This writerly banter aside, quite a quiet day writing about data storage issues till it was 5:30. Then and Kate and I zoomed off in her car. I sat on her balcony attending to a cold beer and overlooking the river while Katie transformed into a glamorous thing. Then Matt, whose 32nd birthday it is, appeared, and we all jumped into a cab and headed off to Richmond. Here First Matie had booked a room at the Rock and Rose restaurant, and a splendid party was had with lots of Matty's pals. Very nice place, with friendly, helpful staff. I enjoyed spots of holding forth, and catching up with Craig, who is very happy in his new job. Learned that Matty with Graeme and Gareth are about to embark on a three men in a boat style adventure down the

Pizza, Prog & Rockabilly Up with the sparrows and off to London. The sparrows, incidentally, sleep on their backs with their beaks poking from the duvet in a neat row. Spent most of the day writing on a several page brochure about printers. At lunchtime First Matie drove me to Sainsbury's and, on returning, I mumbled on my sandwich and worked on the printer brochure again. Time hibernated. Some 100 years later, I left work the shadow of a man, after Kate had rewritten my brochure to stop it being rubbish. Then a slightly disrupted journey home, but heard from Mex whose important job interview had gone very well. Also heard from Anton, who was sans Anna (on a coaching course). So on returning to Brighton, I sidled up the road, to gorge on Anton's own unbeatable pizzas and polish off some Polish beers. While thus engaged, I also spoke on the phone to the Cat with the Hat, who was pleased with our meeting yesterday, and to Lorraine. Anton and I had an excellent evening, listen

Sustainable tagliatelle Toby lad's birthday today. I'm looking forward to seeing him back in Blighty soon. Up late this morning feeling a little groggy. Pottered about for a couple of hours before meeting Simon at Brighton Station and we headed up together to Kings Cross, and the Acorn House restaurant. All the Acorn's food is sustainably sourced and is very well cooked too. So there are mackerel and pork and lots of interesting vegetables such as samphire on view. I had pea soup and a light tagliatelle. We were there to meet Pooran Desai OBE who is responsible for the BedZED project, and a new development in Brighton. A very interesting guy, who I may do an interview with shortly. The Cat with the Hat, wearing a brown straw hat today, turned up and we all had a nice meal and several chin-stroking conversations. After a couple of hours of talking we shot off to Victoria, where I met Mex for a cheeky beer and a pizza. (Fortunately I'd only grazed at lunch). Lots of new

Memento Mori in Mortlake Off to London to work at Katie's agency again, listening to podcasts and yawning on the train. At least it is light, and sunny. Kate's agency are asking me in without telling her, allowing me to crop up like an embarrassing uncle at a wedding. At lunch First Matie drove me to Sainsbury's in her car, which she has customised to sound like a small tractor. I hopped out an bought myself some lemon and coriander humus and oatcakes and then went to sit in the cemetery near Kate's agency which was lovely. I love graveyards. I was asked back for Friday today too, as well as Weds and Thurs, and the extra day will help pay for my poetical visit to Guernsey which I am really excited about. Home and I watched some football on TV: Germany versus Austria. Footie is so much less stressful when your own team isn't involved, mind you I felt frustrated by the Austrians who couldn't hit a barn door. Heard from young Matty today, apparently he knows the ow

Easeful gardens Booked my ticket to fly over to Guernsey next week for two days. I am going to attend and read at the Pens & Lens event organised by the newly formed Guernsey Arts Commission. Very much looking forward to this. Got a package of material through in the invite, which all looked rather spiffy, and included one of my poems too which was pretty pleasing. In the afternoon, Lorraine collected me to drive off to the village of Southease near Lewes. This is the point where Matty Kate and I started our walk last weekend, and home to Matt's family. The village was having an open gardens weekend. So as well as the open gardens, tea and home made cakes were served overlooking the village green and the 1,000 year old round-towered church. We spent a happy afternoon lurking in these beautiful country gardens. One in particular called Corner Cottage was a wonderful maze of tiny paths, and leafy tunnels of burgeoning and dense growths of aromatic roses and many other plants inc

Sex and the City Working today, on the albatross-like report I was working with Simon on yesterday and feeling generally tetchy. Beset by excitable teenagers this evening, and for want of something to do, Lorraine and I went with Sam and Beth, and Beth's boyfriend Mark, off to see Sex and the City. I quite enjoyed this film, even though it's bad in so many ways. It was just like an extended version of the TV show. As a man, the trying on wedding dresses sequence gave me a nosebleed, and the much commented-on touting of labels and product placement was fairly shabby. But otherwise I was able to happily check my brain on entry and enjoy it. Made me miss New York though.

13 Triskaidekaphobia is one of the few phobias I do not have. So I got a grip this morning, and sent out invoices and dealt with one or two business matters in a reasonably butt bruising manner. Then up to Preston Drove to work with Simon for the rest of the day on a stunningly laborious presentation document. Simon is a really good guy, which helped considering I felt braindead. Trying to find some time to work on my own projects at the moment is proving very difficult. However financially things are not too bad, and I have some more freelance work at Kate's agency coming up next week. But far better to be busy than have nothing on at all. Walked home at about six, and found myself desperate for a cheeky Friday night curry and beer. Luckly Lorraine was happy to oblige, and sitting in the Cricketers sipping a pre-curry beer, life felt several degrees more cheery.

Encounter with a wasp beetle and other animals Sprang up from my airbed this morning for coffees with Mum and Mas. Then spent some time with Mum playing Carcassonne , the game that Toby and Romy sent mum. This was surprisingly enjoyable, and fairly easy to pick up, though I still don't know what the farmers are for. I've actually been to Carcassonne, and it does have a remarkable castle. Anyway we played it and it was fun. Mum and Mas then off to the dentist, and I did a spot of cleaning and sorting out my emails. Then a really enjoyable lunch driving off to a pub in Letchmore Heath near Elstree called The Three Horseshoes. Mum got talking to the landlady who was outside with her dog Angel, which was some species of barking boxer or something with one of those evil grotesque faces and bat ears. Apparently Angel was scared of cats and handbags. Or cats in handbags. I forget. Had a really useful conversation with Mas about business which helped me see the wood for the trees. Mum

Unknotting again Up at seven and made coffee and got straight down to work on my Skelton Yawngrave story. However, gallingly, the muse had checked out for the morning, so after gnashing my teeth, I contented myself with editing existing material for a couple of hours, as this seems to come from a different part of the brain. Opted for an early swim, feeling a bit sluggish going up and down, and quite pleased when half an hour was over. This followed by admin stuff, such as paying a fat fee to my glamorous accountant, and shopping for office paper. A couple of hours later I went for another wonderful massage. Painful at times, but in a good way. There is one point, low down, between my shoulders, that makes me flinch like a whipped cur when she touches it. I asked her to have at it anyway. After an hour of this, I felt drugged and woozy. Dozed for an hour before setting off for London, penning the start of a poem on the train, which was sparked off by the massage. Up through London to

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

A fluvial interlude A six thirty start today to head up to London to do a couple of days at First Matie's agency. Curiously cheery atmosphere on the train, due to the sun I suppose. Very hot in Kate's offices today, and a strange keyboard glitch made typing a bit of a trial. But all in all a good day, despite feeling that I was wilting like a lettuce. After work headed off to Strand on the Green with Kate, in her little car, and had a cold beer or two by the river with a splendidly-shirted Matty and Sylvia and a meal which included complimentary apple crumbles, which was entirely excessive but very tasty. Then spoke to Lorraine, who was having a difficult day, and Simon who was also having a difficult day. Kate and I strolled along the river to Kew Bridge and back, looking at a flotilla of 21 Canadian geese, and priest like herons, swans and other river birds convening at sundown. A lovely summer's evening, but I was soon ready for bed after a long hot day, snoozing in Grae

Sausages and strategies Apart from dreaming about being on top of bald hills, woke feeling fairly fresh this morning. Slow pottering in the morning, and in the afternoon off to work with Simon, who lives high on the other side of Brighton. Beautiful blazing day, and we worked together for several hours indoors getting to grips with strategies and shuffling bits of paper about on the floor. Then we enjoying a barbecue with his wife Caroline and lovely little daughter Jessica in Simon's nice garden. We're working together on some of The Cat with the Hat stuff. And as a talented and strategic designer Simon is a really good contact for me, and a nice guy to boot. Walking back through Brighton in a sunny summer evening was really pleasant. Home, and I watched some football and then spoke to Toby and the Romster. Good to catch up a bit, and looking forward to Toby's visit. Toby said he'd used my poem Heidegger in the Forest in a class of his, which was very flattering. Appa

Falling upwards Kate and Matty down on a day trip to Brighton, to take a bracing walk followed by some cheeky beers. We were going to do a walk that I'd done once Anton. Due to complicated train scenarios, however, we decided to go instead to do another walk which Matt and his family do regularly. The walk started well with competitive photography, some advanced hat wearing from Matty and myself, and poppies splashing the fields with colour, not to mention Guernsey cows pulling at the grass. As you know, I collect phobias like other people do stamps. My occasional horror of wide open spaces, I think started when I was four years old and living in Guernsey. I went through a phase convinced that I was about to fall up into the sky, and would hold onto adults or hedgerows to prevent this. Standing on top of high, grassy and treeless hills surrounded by the yawning horror of the existential nothingness affects me even today. Our hilltop route was essentially a Peter Kenny worst case sc

Chairman Took delivery of a proper Bonny/Verskam IKEA office chair today. Guaranteed to nip back gyp in the bud. This I assembled with minimal swearing, or without doing myself a mischief. Impressive. And manly. Not to mention surprisingly comfortable, with arms and the ability to spin, and thus complement the free spinning ideas I have. Spent some time involved in circular business conversations and general end of weekishness, so it was nice to escape out with Lorraine, who'd been supervising a young children's drama day, which included parents (the hardest to manage) and her nerves were in shreds. A couple of cheeky cold beers in the Cricketer sorted us out. Then a nice meal curry, it being a Friday night.

The moth blunders madly into the light Up with the sparrows. Spent my first four hours concentrated on a PowerPoint presentation, based on the conversations I was having yesterday with the Cat with the Hat. This delivered, slipped off for a swim, and to collect a package from Amazon. I found myself being kicked by the surging crawlers in the fast lane next to mine. How can this be right? Talked to mum, who is doing fairly well on her chemotherapy regime. Although certain foods are making her feel a nauseous when she has them. She has also been to the dentist, which she was advised to do before the treatment fully kicks in. I will be going up again next week to hang out with her and Mas. In the evening went to an excellent poetry reading by Brendan Cleary. See my daywork blog for more on that. I also tried out The Moth Display , in one of the open mic spots. This I did with a slightly mad intensity. The poem sounds rather tortured soul-ish, and was against the grain of the rest of the e

Monkish business A few decisions this morning. Wasn't going to speak at a festival, which I'd been invited to, but the organisation has been so shambolic I realised gleefully that I didn't have to put up with this sort of nonsense any more. Long conversation with Mex today too, whose career is facing some challenges, and also amazing opportunities. Then off see the Mike, the Cat with the Hat. Naturally there was a bit of hat business to be done first, and before I left I popped into Madhatters to see if his hats had arrived (they hadn't). A sunny day so I sported my new Panama straw with a black band, and travelled off to Longfield in Kent. This is an area I'd never been to before, and was quite small and countrified. Mike quickly turned up in an expensive open top car wearing an almost identical hat. I jumped in next to him, and the one white, one black combination of largish middle aged blokes wearing straw hats in an open top sports car proved rather amusing to t

The back abates For the first day in ages, a cracking day on my skeleton story. Also a few tweaks to The Moth Display, which is in the final flap. Then a swim. Feeling better than I have done for a while thanks to my recent massage. My back is not hurting all the time, which means I can sleep too. Yippee. Deep tissue massage rocks. Up to London in the evening. Spoke to Mum on the train. She had just returned home after starting her chemotherapy. She was feeling a little sleepy when I spoke to her, but she said that the nursing staff couldn't have been better, and it wasn't too bad so far. Also re-reading an old anthology called New Blood on the train. Rather than dipping into magazines, I'm forcing myself to be more methodical about catching up with anyone who is anyone in the last ten years in poetry. As I did so, an inky stain on my damp manbag printed itself neatly onto my brand new trousers. Pouring steadily in London, as befits a British June. I set off to Goodge Stee

Unknotting Up with the sparrows this morning, and finally was able to get on with writing about skeletons again, which was fantastic. Also worked on my Moth Display poem and made real progress. At 1.30 I went for a deep tissue massage of my, back, neck and shoulders for a whole hour. It was absolutely wonderful, and also quite painful as I have stored a world of evil up in there. I also experienced a passing surge of weird panic when Jule worked on the left side of my back. I firmly believe in this idea of tissue memory: that when you release the knots of tension you actually re-experience the emotions that caused the knots in the first place. The first time I had a deep tissue massage was a few years ago, and it was not only agonising, but I felt terribly depressed for a few days after. But soon after, I felt better than I had felt for ages. And the next time I went for one, the experience was almost painless. It think massage precipitates some kind of a healing crisis. Today thankful

The Sunday gardener Working on my The Moth Display poem first thing, then after some time spent mainly wanting to bang my head on the table, stopped. I also explained at length my new vision to Lorraine: 4 stone lighter the Peter Kenny way . Stage one involves lots of positive visualisation about what being 4 stone lighter would be like, and then stage two is to spurn & reject food. Simple but brilliant. After a small bowl of muesli, and me refreshing her on key points of my plan, Lorraine suggested that we do some work in my garden. Then she drove us off to a garden centre in the afternoon just the other side of the downs, where I bought a few plants that can endure a shady corner of a Twitten snail sanctuary. Garden centre doing enormous business, and it's hard not to go mad in there and return with an English jungle in the boot. Noticed it was quite a day out for the old folks too, who seemed to be enjoying its cafe and browsing happily among the busy lizzies. Home, and unde