Scree! More gardening, and Lorraine being her incredibly helpful self, and driving us off with bags of recycling, and purchasing sacks of slate scree, and sharp sand, which can be used as scree. My new garden is taking shape, however. Lorraine working herself to the bone. And I did a good deal of heavy lugging, and saying scree! to myself and Lorraine in a rather manic way. Weird to spend so much time away from my computer. Like coming off drugs. Talked to Betsy about covers, while buying scree bags. After labouring, and some snoozing I put a chicken in the oven, and had a couple of quick Harveys with Lorraine in the Batty before we ate. Watching a programme on TV about Verdi, which was interesting, what with my new found interest in Opera. Sparked me to think about a piece Matt wants to write for a large choir, and I had an idea. Possibly a good idea. Lorraine home, me to bed. All well with the world.
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Gardening with stones My second entirely computer free day, spent manfully setting about my yard under Lorraine's adult supervision. We cleared sackloads of rubbish, and emptied the storage space outside, which is really an old fashioned outside toilet, which still has a bowl and cistern in it. We are remaking and reshaping the flower bed, and giving it more verticality. We drove off in the afternoon to the tip, and then to the garden centre where I bought three big pieces of rock, one smooth egg-like piece and two jagged sharpish vertical bits. I almost opted for two smooth egg like stones and one pointy one, but stopped as made it look like some stone phallus. Also some shale and wooden edging for the beds. Lots of carrying of heavy things all day. Bumping into folks today as we were about our business. Janet and Ken by the station buying a ticket to see his grandkids, one or two of my neighbours, and a new friend Guy at the Garden centre. I really like living in a town were I ca
Basketmakers A bank holiday weekend, and naturally nothing but the wild rain hosing down on Brighton. Lorraine and I went to see her Bulgarian friend Romina, who had two newish sofas to sell as she is moving to Switzerland. We were given slices of cake and cups of tea and had a really nice chat. Romina's son Vas was a superconfident 14 who from his own account is a gifted drummer, and Michael Jackson devotee. They are moving to Switzerland soon. Out into the rain, and from there to the cozy Basketmakers where we met Matt and John for some grub and a few beers. A jolly good time. We got talking about Mark Bassey, one of my neighbours who is a trombone player. Turns out that he is a big hero of Matt's so I will try to arrange a meeting. Matt very pleased that Mark had come to our show. Home and snoozing on the sofa, woken by a new neighbour called Merlin wanting to borrow some kitchen scales. Then watching the enjoyably awful Eurovision Song Contest. The UK entrant was justifiabl
The countdown begins Was phoned by Catriona asking me to do some more work for the Guernsey Arts Commission, which is rather good, promoting Guernsey's first ever Literary Festival. Chats too with Richard and Betsy. Brilliantly, Richard has played a blinder, and secured a splendid venue The Glasshouse bang on the front in St Peter Port for our book launch. The official book launch day is 1st July, but we hope to have sold a few by then. All good. Meanwhile Betsy beavering on the book cover, and me still tinkering with one poem. But the countdown has definitely begun. Off to the gym again, feeling Butch and Manly on the hulklegs machine. After a while Butch and Manly asked me to stop (arf). Am definitely feeling better about my corporeal being for being back in the gym. A quiet night, Lorraine out with her girls watching Sex in the City 2 at the Duke of York Theatre. Apparently tripe, but they had fun anyway. Afterwards Lorraine came back to my place, and we went to bed amid hideou
Jersey Up early to finish off some work for the lovely French clients. Then long chats with Richard and Betsy about the book cover. A nice surprise as Sophie emailed to say she has already talked to some folks at BBC radio about the This concert shows, and is now following up. Crikey. Would be cool bananas to get the show on radio. Up the hill to babysit Klaudia and Oskar. They are adorable. Looked at a book about swinging monkeys with Oskar, and then read chapter 13 of a book by Enid Blyton called The Faraway Tree , while having Barney the green dinosaur lovingly squished on my head by Klaudia. Once read to and told to sleep, they kept getting up, and I had to be stern with them to make them stay in bed. Anton came back from London after a couple of days being schmoozed by his agency. We hung out chatting for a while, and he told me that they were going to Jersey for their summer holiday. Jersey!?! It is hard to type about this. I am full of turbulent emotions. Then home talking to
Roll over Metivier Calliope, no respecter of late nights, sprang onto my pillow, and dragged me from sleep hideously early. Once up, I lurched about working on bits and pieces, making and labelling a map of Guernsey for the centre of the book, as well as tinkering with poems. Then made off to the gym, which livened me up somewhat. This recent gym bout has made my trousers seem a bit looser. Betsy has some great thoughts for the cover of A Guernsey Double . Much relieved by this, as I couldn't see the wood for the trees on it any more. Amused by Richard writing: "Really excited about the Double. We are the new kids on the block. Roll over Metivier, tell old Corbet the news!" referring to Guernsey poets of the 19th century. Another night blamelessly sipping mineral water and teas, and enjoying this picture of a marine blobfish, from Practical Fishkeeping.
A telescope More unspeakable nightmares. No idea why any more. Spent the morning working, and then broke off to have an eye test. Nice man who spoke a mangled ophthalmologist's language. I've written extensive websites about eye health, but found him hard to follow. The upshot, as far as I could tell, was that my peepers are no better or worse than last time. This was something of a result as I didn't have to buy new ones. Spectacles I mean, not eyes, that would be grotesque. Met Randolph for an overdue and rather jocular coffee this afternoon. Good to talk to a fellow writer, and hear about the ordeal of getting his new play staged, makes all my projects sound like a walk in the park. We got to talking about the comedies of the election, and literary quarrels where he told me about Dostoevskyand Turgenev. This from the New York Review of Books: Dostoevsky quarreled with Turgenev because they resented his “foreign” leanings and habits. Meeting in Baden-Baden, Dostoevsky tol
And so on Humiliation dreams: people laughing at the badness of my writing. This blinking book is playing on my subconscious. Up early and working on some copy for Catriona about next year's literary festival in Guernsey. Fortunately she liked it a lot. Then I wrote a front cover design brief for Betsy, and went to the gym and sweated somewhat. In the afternoon chatted to Betsy for an hour or so about designs, and sent her poems and photos, and laughing about her new relationship with a fellow designer, and imagining the conversations they have about interesting ampersands. Made some time to look at my poems and spotted two or three howlers. Spotting howlers at such a late stage is uncomfortable to say the least. Nice chat with Toby tonight, and with Lorraine, and watched a bit of football. Otherwise all quiet, spoke to a couple of neighbours, and apart from nodding pleasantly at the three young dealers hanging about at the end of the Twitten, kept myself to myself.
Spellbound Feeling shabby this morning due to ouzo excesses. Compounded by Mason and Mum getting up at seven thinking that Lorraine had told them she wanted to get up at this time. There must be something in the stars. A breakfast of crumpets and much gulping of coffee followed by a lurch about in the garden. Another beautiful day. Mum gave me a painting of Diana Yellyface, the death's head moth Skelton Yawngrave character. This will prove useful when I go to another school next month. A long hot drive home not listening to Chris Squire. Half of southern England decided it wanted to visit Brighton today, so the roads were very busy on the way home. Lorraine's arm caught the sun through the car window. A quiet and reflective afternoon. Calliope pleased to see me, running half the length of the twitten miaowing at me happily. I paused to stroke it and say my usual cat endearments, at which I heard a snickering from behind my neighbour's fence. A really watchable BBC documenta
Sophie's party Drove north with Lorraine through a hot central London to attend Sophie's party, while forcing her to listen to Chris Squire's mighty Fish out of Water as well as Amadou and Mariam's classic Dimanche à Bamako . Lorraine less keen on the 1970s prog for some reason. We arrived at least two hours before the party started. As I had independently decided it started at 3 o'clock, rather than the actual start time of 8pm. Sophie and Andros kind enough to take this in their stride. But it gave me a chance to talk to Sophie's parents who also arrived early, and who I had not seen for about 25 years. Sophie's father almost completely unchanged. A splendid party and a few people I'd not seen for the same amount of time. Good to see Christof and Electra, Christof funny as ever, and Electra at 12 turning, seemingly overnight, into a young woman. Lots of lovely food too. Christof trying to make me do "the bear", which is some sort of impressi
Cover story A beautiful day. However I had a frustrating few hours getting nowhere on the cover for A Guernsey Double . Late in the afternoon I called Betsy, who has to my relief agreed to contribute some starry and stripy design elegance, and a fresh set of eyes. Talking to Catriona in Guernsey this morning, who has asked me to do some copy for the literary festival next year. Otherwise, I sloped off to the gym where I had slightly more energetic workout than yesterday. And repaired one of the poems which had fallen apart after I'd been tinkering with it a couple of days ago. If the poems are like a set of teeth, one rotten one will ruin the whole smile, but I'm hoping I've fixed it. Calliope bit me hard this morning as I was taking too long to get ready. She jumped repeatedly onto forbidden kitchen surfaces, shredded a toilet roll, and crept into the drier and made a nest there for an hour, coating all my clean clothes in hair. This punctuated with her going outside and r
Perking up Pep and manly vigour gradually seeping back today. Went to the gym, for a cautious session listening to my audiobook. Managed to keep cool when new French employee of French client sent back my copy saying she had "improved" it for me. Fiddled with the layout of a Guernsey Double, also a few urgent last minute tweaks to the poems, and some detailed emails back and forth with Richard. We share a determination to make A Guernsey Double be the best it can possibly be. After work met Matt in the Basketmakers for a bite to eat, a few beers and a general wash up meeting. Overall pleased with the reception of This concert. There are many next steps, and a variety of projects on the table: taking This concert on the road with Tacet, writing a new piece for the Rainbow Chorus, and working on an Opera. Oh and we are going to put on another show in October. As ever we seem quite in tune, and both keen to press on. I feel very lucky at the moment!
A glowing endorsement Edward Chaney sent me his introduction to A Guernsey Double . Towards the end he says, which has pleased Richard and I no end: "Not since the extraordinarily poetic Book of Ebenezer Le Page has a single volume made the soul of the island so unremittingly its focus". This is rather fab. Richard sent the quote back to me in a note simply because he wanted to type it out. Otherwise shattered and somewhat achy, making work arduous. Luckily the work for my lovely French client is for a website designed to encourage Brits to visit France to glug wine. Not the most challenging assignment.
Photos and poems Big steps forward with A Guernsey Double , Richard and I are close to agreeing a cover. I took myself out to the magic cafe in the afternoon and worryingly found about five things that needed to be fixed in the poems. The perspective of not looking at them properly for a couple of weeks. But I am comforted by WH Auden who said something to the effect that he never finished a poem, only abandoned it. Also popped in to see Adrian Turner's photos in an exhibition in Kensington Gardens in the laines. His seascape photos look fantastic at a larger scale. Lorraine came by this evening, and we occupied the gold sofa and did nothing, which was almost perfect as I am feeling under the weather. Below some shots by Jane Wrin of This Concert will fall in love with you Matt conducting, Glen on piano, Adam on vibraphone, Ellie on violin, me, and Tom on marimba. Lorraine third from the left singing.
Down to earth Come down today from the high of last week & feeling about 90. Performing takes a lot out of me, which is why I am so fab at it ;-). Grrr, though. Some malfunction with the camera meant, typically, there is no film of the event, but there should be recordings and photos coming through soon. Meeting Matt later in the week to discuss next steps. The whole thing went far too well to let it lie. Reflecting on the show for much of the day. I am really pleased with how it went, especially on Friday. It's good to realise I've still got it on stage, because I have to stretch back to pre-blog days before I did any significant performances. Seem to have rediscovered my performing passion, which is just in time for the book launch. All good. Up in the morning and working on some French stuff, then fiddling with covers for A Guernsey Double , and doing things like airbrushing masts from photos of the already annoyingly suave and photogenic Richard Fleming. More work thro
Marimba magic Woke up after an hour our so and spent quite a bit of the night overtired, with my brain churning. Consequently was still exhausted and braindead today. Managed to go to some local open houses with Lorraine and her parents. Mostly tripe, but in one I saw some not for sale works in the house owner's private collection by Jim haldane. They were fantastic. Am going to find out more. Maureen cooked us a nice roast dinner, and that was me zombied. Slept some of the afternoon, and then Lorraine and I went to see a gig by Adam and Tom, the percussion duo who had powered This Concert... Great to be able to watch them without having to think about lots of other stuff. They were hugely enjoyable, and towards the end they also played Matt's Weelkes Despatched which sounded great. They rounded off their set with a storming Nagoya Marimba , a marimba duet by Steve Reich. Adam said Japan is full of wonderful marimba players. Completely uncharacteristically, Adam lost his line
Aftermath An early rise, hung over but happy. Shaila, Lakshmi, Lorraine and I all got up and drank tea. Then went to Bills where we were joined by Andros and Sophie, and Sam for a long and rather funny breakfast, despite moments of feeling like death warmed over. Feeling very rich and lucky in my friends. Afterwards fond farewells to all, a quick shower and out again, locating L's parents eating sadwiches on a bench in the middle of town on New Road. Lorraine and I went back to her house where I watched the first half of the FA Cup final which Chelsea won, making it almost a perfect week by winning the double. Then collected by the angelic Dawn and driven to Jan's house in Worthing, where she had a proper English barbecue with rain and sausages. However it was a fine time, marred only by the fact I was roundly exhausted, and faced by a man talking to me about recylcing bathroom tiles, found it impossible to locate any words to reply with. Dawn drove Lorraine and I back to her p
Last night of the This Concert run Up early, having been gleefully bounced by Calliope. Cups of Joyful Cliff Path coffee with Mum and Mas this morning. Then they went for a walk around town and I seemed to be on the phone half the morning. Had lunch at the Sussex Yeoman with Mum, Mas, Pat, Maureen and Beth and Mark. I had one of their tasty but enormous hamburgers that sits in the stomach like a stone. Everyone got on well, and it was generally fun. After Mum and Mas left, I grew increasingly nervous about this evening. There were so many friends in the audience that I hid myself away emerging only to perform. It had the potential to be like a scene from a nightmare, where friends from all stages of my life were to witness a humiliation. Luckily, however, it was a storming night despite one of the sopranos, having to be replaced at the last moment by Matt's composer friend Nikki. We biffed into This concert with some style. The only blot on my landscape was that my purple cummerbu
This concert day two Began to get an insight into the lives of proper show folk. The day is a hinterland of the night, and it was difficult to achieve much. Managed to grab a cat nap with Calliope on the gold sofa. Mum and Mas arrived in the afternoon, and I had a quick soft drink with them in the Yeoman before going back to the Church. Janet and Ken, Mum and Mas, Lorraine's folks Pat and Maureen plus Randolph and a few other friends in the audience, which had grown by another dozen or so from yesterday. And Bob was there at the back beaming support. Didn't feel quite in the zone tonight -- slightly too relaxed and a bit flat. The first half poems went well again -- Our song the last of the poems about love is proving a good performance piece. Slightly disconcerted by the opening theme of This concert which fell apart a bit, and sounded rather nice, if not exactly the music we were supposed to be playing. However the performance after this went pretty smoothly. And there were
This concert will fall in love with you The first night -- sorry the world premiere -- tonight. Off to the gym this morning, and a long steadying chat with Richard. This followed by some sustained faffing before Lorraine and Beth pulled up at the end of the Twitten, and I loaded my stuff into their car. Then setting up the venue, moving the piano, chairs, Tom and Adam assembling their marimba and vibraphone, people dressing up. Beth and Mark being invaluable fixing clothes and stands and microphones for me. Lorraine as usual seeming to be key to organising everything. The only thing downside was that the venue was cold. We hadn't bargained for the chilliest May temperatures in years. Tonight was always going to be the quiet night in terms of attendance, so there were only a little over thirty people. Was pleased to see Mark (who I've known since I was 11) and his wife Carol. Also pleasantly surprised to see Alex and Jen from next door, and Cath who snapped some of the shots be
Portly Prince To Specsavers to get my reading glasses bent back into shape, after I sat on about a year ago. Can't believe it has taken me so long. Put into a fury today by a person unknown, who parked their rucksack in my front garden crushing loads of plants. I hurled it venemously down the Twitten, and when I returned from Specsavers it was gone. To the costume shop again, where I met Beth who helped me, with the excellent Jessica, sort out some remarkable purple and black clothes for the concert. A 100 year old black silk top hat with purple filly band, black tails, purple waistcoat, some species of purple frilly cravat, pointed shoes, and a cummerbund. Suave, like a large portly version of Prince. Then Beth and I off to Sussex University for the final rehearsal with the Tacet Ensemble and the choir. All went fairly well, I think. Though I was not using a microphone, which I will do at the concert, so was always at the top of my voice, which meant I lost some of the colouring.
A joyful path A cup of Joyful cliff path, Guernsey ground coffee, today while working on Richard's poems. Getting quite excited now. It is feeling like a real book now, and is packed with, excuse me, some damn fine poems. A glitch in the file, however, and it was some hours before I could persuade Adobe that I wasn't writing in Korean. Gym again: and more gas in the tank. Spent the afternoon muttering and barking my lines. Calliope knocking over a wastepaper bin and watching me intently from inside it, before persistently trying to sit on the score. Is she trying to tell me something? I responded by tightening up the middle section. Feeling happy: the idea of music haunted by a spirit that possesses it, and pleads to be loved is very different, and exciting. Matt came around at tea time clutching a big tin of heart-shaped biscuits prepared by his friend Guido, before zooming off to his conducting job with the Rainbow Chorus. We are going to offer the biscuits to attendees.
Blue heaven After breakfast, to the gym for more gentle trundling. So hideously unfit and overweight at the moment. Later, pushed through a door decorated with Myleene Klass's boobies to buy some sensible black trousers in M&S, prompted by the show. In the afternoon Lorraine and I off to a bluebell wood, having stopped en route at a garden centre where we bought a large artificial rose. Once in the wood, it was surprisingly cold, and overcast, but it was a beautiful interlude. A carpet of bluebells in swathes of misty violet blue. Lorraine pausing to hug a tree as usual. A happy hour spent wandering here. Shortly before we were leaving, treading quietly in the wood, a big buck rabbit blundered through the undergrowth about ten feet away, followed by a large red fox in hot pursuit. An amazing sight, but also a weird intrusion of a life and death struggle over the heavenly carpet. Then Lorraine drove me home where I discovered that Chelsea were winning their must win final game b
Friller Hideous nightmares: tsunamis. After breakfast was taken by Beth with Lorraine to Masquerade Costumes. Here for half an hour or so tried on various clothes, under the tutelage of a decisive woman called Jessica. Dressing for This Concert -- a Victorian theme so a black jacket with tails, a Top Hat with purple lace, and whorl of purple frills around my neck, and some species of purple cummerbund. This seemed to me to be an appalling gut sling, but the others seemed to think it was okay. I was wearing light chinos at the time, and was handed a pair of black trousers to see how much better I'd look in black. These were black Lycra dancing pants, into which I dutifully changed. I glanced at myself in the mirror, top hatted, befrilled and puffed up, with nastily crotch hugging stretchy black stuff, and thin legs dangling below. When I opened the cubical door, Lorraine , Beth and Jessica greeted the Max Wall spectacle with quite a lot of laughter. However, the lady in the shop is
Morning after The Election resulted in a widely predicted hung parliament, though slightly short of the workable majority I thought the Tories would get. All politicians looking exhausted. God knows what's going to happen now. A Liberal Conservative pact, is the early indication. In my Brighton Pavilion constituency the UK's first Green MP, Caroline Lucas , was elected. I had some more French work to do first thing, which I started very early and was done by mid morning. Gingerly, and rather exhuastedly, off to the gym again where I am now listening to my iPod audiobook while on the hulk legs machine, and then home via the printer to view the proofs for the words for This Concert which I am having fairly cheaply printed in a limited edition of 100 to sell next week. In the afternoon, laying out Richard's poems for A Guernsey Double . Some absolutely gorgeous work in here, and I am proud to be sharing the book with him. More on this in the next few weeks. Fairly drained by
Election day Broke off early to vote. Returning from the polling station, I passed one of my Twitten neighbours who asked me if I'd voted. I said, yes, but that none of them deserved it. And he said he was off to choose the best of a bad bunch. Hardly startling, but the kind of conversation I suspect was played out a million times around the country. The reputation of politicians has utterly nose dived in this country in the last year. In my constituency of Brighton Pavilion, the leading candidates were Caroline Lucas, leader of the Green party, and Nancy Platts for Labour. I overcame my Brown nausea to vote for Labour, tribal loyalties proving impossible to overcome. But I am sympathetic to the Greens too, and Lucas has had an enormous amount of publicity lately, and seems a competent politician and likely to become Britain's first Green MP. Not that that is any kind of recommendation. Contacted twice by wild eyed Labour canvassers during the day, which clearly means it is tig
Post 2000 Blogger tells me that this is the two thousandth time I have described a day in this blog. Amazing what a habit it has become. Up early working on the pitch all day for my lovely French client. Also managed to sort out the printer for the libretto, went to the gym, and attended to many chores. Richard has now sent me his poems too, so we are inching closer day by day to getting it all sorted. One very nice thing, was back in touch with Mario Petrucci, an old poetry friend who is now rather famous in poetry circles. And we hope to link up again soon, Mario saying we should do a reading together which would be cool bananas. In the evening escaped my screen and made off to meet Lorraine. We had a quick drink, and I had a bowl of asparagus soup in a pub called the Open House. Both rather exhausted. Matt phoned, and we have the microphone sorted now for the concert, this is good as this was definitely in my top ten gig worries list. Home, and brain dead. Feel like I have been out
A happy worker First several hours work for my lovely French client, and also given a brief for a new job to do over the next few days. Chatting to Jeanne was difficult due to the hammering and drilling going on in her office, till it emerged that it had been burgled over the long weekend. After the French work finished, I finalised the a press release and programme with Matt. I sent the press release off to the local paper and radio. Also sussed out a printer nearby to print my words for This Concert. These will be available at the concerts in a signed limited edition of 100. Then down to the Brighton Tavern to put up a poster. Home to write invites, and lay out the libretto booklet before I get it printed. Chatting to Randolph today, who I'll meet for a coffee later in the week. Also to Lorraine, and to Mum who told me an appalling story about Salty bringing a live rat into their bedroom, which then ran up mum's trouser leg, and was later carried struggling out into the garde
An idyll of England Lorraine and I went off to Southease to visit First Matie today, and mooch about the village green where plants were being sold on stands. We all came away with some, and repaired to the Abergavenny Arms for a fast drink. Puffin vastly entertaining and mostly seems to be legs. People loving her in the village. It whines when Kate is out of sight. Home early. Lorraine home to have a girly posse, and me to pot two pelargoniums with gorgeous leaves and brood on the million things to be done next week. Below the scene on the green. Almost idyllically English. Puffin's nose. And a beautiful garden owned by a nice man called Adrian, who first Matie introduced me to.
Hexing More football hexing from Anton this morning. "Hi mate just wanted to be the first to congratulate you today you will be deserved champions well done." A policy which dates back to this moment , when he prematurely "congratulated" me just before John Terry slipped over in the mud, missing a penalty which cost Chelsea victory in the European Champions League cup final against Anton's unspeakable Manchester United. Bank holiday weekend... So naturally teeming with rain all day. Lorraine a little under the weather. I went back home for a bit to feed Calliope, do some work, and go to the gym. Rather underpowered even by my currently underpowered standards, and felt rather worn out afterwards. Steady rain all day. Guiltily abandoning poor Calliope, and L and I went to Sainsbury's and then back to her place to pot plants, and eat roast chicken and become installed on the sofa to watch Hellboy, Del Toro's superhero film, on TV. Full of his splendid touch
Sizing up the venue Up fairly early working on stuff and things. Lorraine went off to watch the children's parade, then came back at lunchtime. I was working with Matt, and we put the final touches to the programme notes. Then to the venue with Lorraine. We met Beth who is going to stage manage and be an experienced directorial eye (I have complete confidence in her. She and Mark have been in more productions already at the age of 18 than I have had piping hot dinners). Walked around the Church again, and decided to alter where we are going to place ourselves. Turns out Glen Capra had just been giving a recital in there of piano music in the main part of the church (he is also in the Tacet Ensemble). He said that due to the cavernous acoustics he had to slow down some of the fast parts, so that individual notes could be heard. Our concert is in the older part of the church, with different acoustics. We spoke to Phillip who is director of music, and he has music stands with lights o