under another sun

The packing starts Lorraine asked if it were too early for a cup of tea this morning, to which the default answer is no, for there are few times when tea is not right and proper. It was 6:30am, however, and Lorraine fell quickly back to sleep, and so after lying wide awake for a while I got up and did various faffings on my computer. Once Lorraine was awaken she helped me to pack boxes with CDs and precious things. Thence to the gym. L has cunningly Grouponed some cut price tickets and did the hulk legs machine next to me for a while, and then some lady stretching. Her plan is to go every other day for a while, which is a good thing. Home again and Lorraine making pear tarte tatin and a species of banana ginger crumble which we took up to Anton and Anna's house. Anton had been slow barbecuing a chicken over fruit woods, which was rather delicious (as was the tarte tatin). Sat out in the sun chatting happily for several hours, and sipping an arcane collection of eastern European l

A day's holiday Spent hours wandering about in the sun with Lorraine. Across to Hove town hall to buy parking vouchers. Sauntering through parks and backstreets while I told the lucky Lorraine the entire story of The End of the Affair . Under my straw hat, found myself feeling as if I were on holiday, and more relaxed than I have been for weeks. The summer suck may be over. We went into the Gallery cafe where Wayne was working, and as they weren't too busy spent time chatting to him sipping coffee and elderflower and apple juice, and falling into conversation with a Hungarian woman who was showing Wayne her art photographs. Wayne is one of those people who makes you feel at home and welcome, and as the sun streamed through the windows the impression of being on holiday was magnified. Milled back into Brighton, via paint shops, to The Giggling Squid Thai restaurant, laughing it up over a cheap and tasty light lunch. Then returned to the Old Church Hall where I shall be moving

Heart on a page Working from home today, finishing off a dullish campaign implementation guide. Ordered a new hard drive, contacted the LaCie the manufacturers of my dead hard drive but they propose asking 899 euros for the pleasure of retrieving my data from a hard drive that simply shouldn't have broken in the first place. Salauds . Popped into the Marlborough Theatre to leave some flyers and posters for Betty the Spacegirl. Also looked at rather nice shelves made from recycled scaffolding planks with Lorraine. In other news listened to Richard and JKT do a splendid late show for Radio Devon. Excellent new poetry from Richard, and JKT on top form as always. Richard coming across wonderfully. Here is he is talking about fascination of writing poetry: "...I think the fact that it does require you to sit down with a plain page and put your heart there." Still listenable for a day or so here. Lorraine and I popped into the Basketmakers to meet Cath where the agency called m

A comforting ghost Oddly, considering I woke very early after a short night's sleep felt grateful to be alive, and full of cheer this morning. I was listening to the The End of the Affair , watching the countryside and railway sidings slip by, full of purple buddleia and yellow flowers. I had a vision on the train. Out of nowhere Dave my Grandfather was sitting opposite me and holding my hand. I guess he must have held my hand once or twice as I had a sense memory of what his hand felt like, and he was the same sort of age as I am now. A weird, passing thing, that at the time seemed natural and comforting. It was so real that it brought a lump to my throat and I almost cried. Very odd, like seeing an unalarming ghost. Into the agency, and again rather a thin day's work to the point that I'm not required to go tomorrow, though some work may be briefed in remotely - i.e. I can stay in bed an hour longer, and no commute. The French Bloke gave a talk to his agency like a kind o

A penny drops Up to the smoke again early. Been reading about passive aggression, which can I learn also be self-directed too, and manifest itself in self-sabotage, and snatching defeat from the jaws of Victory. Spent some time today combing through my life and times for examples, finding several dating back to childhood. As an example: I never did my homework at school. Year after year this led to me getting into trouble, and the exasperation of my teachers. But read as a self-directed act of passive aggression it makes sense. Suddenly I felt as if I had understood something new about myself, which doesn't happen every day. Went out to lunch with Keith, who I always like, to a pub called Jeremy Bentham where we ate ham and eggs, which I washed down with a glass of beer called, confusingly, TEA, which stands for Traditional English Ale. Then off out after work for an hour or so with Slug and Chris. Slug talking about making a fund-raising film in Burkino Faso, and journeying out i

Cyber-yokel Up to London again, working on a few concepts on the train, before turning gratefully to listen to my Graham Greene's The End of the Affair again, or at least I would have if the iPod battery hadn't instantly died. Listened to it on the way home, however. A wonderful book, a tortured mix of God and love, jealousy and bitterness. Work was pleasant again, and pressed on with bits and pieces quite happily. Had a small walk in Tavistock Square looking at the statue of Mahatma Gandhi with a pigeon resting peacefully on its head. After work I went down to the Salisbury where I met Mex for a quick drink, as we'd not seen each other for ages. She was detained at work, and this made me realise that the last few times I have met anyone there, they have been late. She was full of news about her new job, which is to do with haut cuisine online, and about social media in particular. So much so that I began to feel a bit of a cyber-yokel. It was good to see her, however, and

London calling To London early this morning. Started to listen to a Terry Pratchett book Anton made me buy, but struggled. Instead I began The End of the Affair by Graham Greene, which was rather splendid, and listened to the rough tracks of Clameur on my iPod. A lovely sunny morning as the fields slipped by and London sprawled out to meet us. Stopped to snap the statue of Newton (after Blake) outside the British Library as I walked from the station to Tavistock Square. A pleasant day. Lots of familiar faces there. Including Barney, with whom I had recently had a pint in Lewes, and Slug a former partner of mine who I'd not seen for years. Our relationship ended under poor circumstances, but the world has turned since then, and it was actually really nice to talk to him. Spent much of the afternoon with Keith working on a brief about teeth, which was in fact like pulling hen's teeth. Having a laugh as is usual when we work together. Other brief chats with The FB, Matty boy, P

Read-throughs Slept like a large log after last night's wild dancing. After returning to the Twitten and attending to a few chores and matters, I listened again to the CD recordings, and marvelled at what Matt and I have achieved. Very exciting. I returned to L's house where I met Betty, Mark, and Callum to discuss the new plays, and brief Becky who is going to be our production elf. Had a first run through of Betty the Spacegirl , which will be excellent I think. Mark's play Pirates Anonymous coming on very well too. Mark is I think going to do extremely well when he slopes off to do a degree in comedy writing next term. Nice to see Callum, who I've not seen since Wrong in March. I am looking forward to our 'Pack of 3' night greatly. Then Lorraine came back armed with loads of shopping. And after the others had left, and Betty had left for work in Eastbourne we ate lovely roast supper and sat watching the Swedish Wallander, before I returned home to ready mys

Big fun in big top tents A quiet day, with spot of gentle shopping this afternoon supervised by Lorraine, in which we bought a small pressie for Steve and Tasha, I scored a much-needed new jacket and some shoes. Suddenly I get retail therapy. Joan sent an email containing a picture of a lovely peach and currant pie she'd made, which had us both salivating and was slightly unfair given the pie was in Canada. I like pies. Pies and Peter Kennys are friends. Off in the evening to Firle, where Natasha and Stephen had got married that afternoon to join in a rather wonderful party. It was a beautiful double peaked tent in a garden. Tasha was resplendent in a lovely wedding gown and greeted us as we walked in. Walked around the tent to find Stephen and congratulate him only to find the French Bloke and Matty Boy (who is of course Tasha's brother). The FB led us past the band but I was seized by Max and compelled to dance wildly with her for some time before I could even reach the bar.

Prevailing Up very early and working on agency copy till noon, and chatting to First Matie whose job I shall be covering next week. Then down to the gym for another sweaty session. Then a bizarre and annoying visit to the printers to collect the remainder of the leaflets, over which there had been a mix up. They attempted to overcharge me, and claim they had "spoken to your wife who knew all about it" about their misquote. A story they stuck to despite me explaining I wasn't married, lived alone and showing them my phone which of course had no record of their call. I prevailed. Then a few yards down the road to meet Matt and cheerily discuss the recordings in The Basketmakers over a pint of Seafarers. Simon sent us the raw sound files today, and I listened to them again - finding it hard to be objective about hearing myself recorded. I soon pushed off to Lorraine's house from where we went to the local Indian restaurant The Shahi to join Cath and celebrate her bir

Not inappropriate seagull noises Working on ailments again this morning, so making some money. I am still booked for next week in London too, which is excellent. To the gym just after lunch, and then to the printer to collect posters and flyers. This being a month when few wires remain uncrossed, the printer had got the quantity wrong. Home and Matt called around and we walked up to the Hanover part of Brighton in the rain, slightly bickering about the baroque route Matt had chosen. Off to Simon Scardanelli's studio to hear and edit the recordings he'd made. I have to say that it sounded better than I had dared hope. This concert will fall in love with you sounds absolutely fantastic, and I was also very relieved to hear that my own performance was really strong too. Made choices about which ending to put on. We chose the less shouty one. Clameur sounded marvellous too. It is in two parts and edited from two or three performances. Became aware of myself at one moment sitti

An old revolution Off to Lorraine's place to wait for a glazier to arrive. He was two hours late, despite repeated phone calls. However this was good as, sans computer, I made a series of strategic mindmaps plotting timelines for the CD/record label launch, house move, literary next steps, poetic next steps, business next steps, banking next steps and so on. Sam arrived later to play on his powerful gaming computer, and we had a nice chat. After the glass man came, was berated, and left, I legged off to the computer mending people. These say they can't fix my hard drive and that it is making a funny noise and you can't access the data, which is exactly what I told them a week ago. Also phoned by the agency who, unbelievably, cancelled the work for next week a second time, but offered me a day's work this week. Spent the afternoon feeling like I had lost a pound and found a sixpence, as the old folks used to say. Even more incredibly, on what is now the fifth decision, w

Pied Sunny morning and feeling more cheery this morning. Naturally, having decided to move next week, the job next week has miraculously re-appeared. I' did not have a very productive day. The truth is I feel somewhat jaded, and even a satisfyingly sweaty gym session did not increase my motivation. However I designed the CD label. In the afternoon found myself sucked into watching the Murdochs giving an account of themselves to the House of Commons select committee. Rupert appeared near-senile, while his son did the obfuscating US corporate drone impression. The committee was amateurish and toothless with the exception of Tom Watson, allowing the two to get away with murder. James knew nothing before 2007, when he joined the company. Does this mean that nobody briefed him about what happened a few years earlier in his father's corporation? An absurd defence that was allowed to stand. I enjoyed the custard pie moment in retrospect, and Murdoch's wife Wendi Deng's viscer

Ho-hum Rain tumbling from the gloomy Monday sky. Another twitchy morning in The Summer Suck, and between twitching I sorted out posters and flyers for Pack of 3 . Learned next week's work in London is not now happening. I am going through a streak of this kind of thing. But this is good news as I can bring my house move forward by a week, which will banish this limboish feeling. Once this is done I have to seriously focus on generating doubloons, as I can see the wooden bases of the Kenny offers. Visited Di and Adrian to talk to them about the photos I need, and discuss many and several topics. Talked to Lorraine who has the tired/cold lurgy, and I had little cheer to bring her. Worked till 11:30pm tweaking the CD cover. Design and art direction is a thief of time, you can be working away quite happily and realise that three hours have gone. Below between rain had a quick walk down by the sea. Hard to credit this is July. And one of Mum's new cat heads. We had a long chat this

Rain Heavy drenching rain all day today, this being an English Summer. Was providing moral support as Lorraine sorted through cupboards, and Sam harvested the innards of an old computer. I enjoyed sitting under a velux window watching the rain tumble out of the sky towards it. I love everything about rain on glass. I suppose this is due to my Grandparents in Guernsey having a glasshouse running the length of their cottage, and I loved hearing the rain and, before they had it fixed, watching rain dripping into strategically placed saucepans and buckets, the air tainted with the astringent smell of geraniums and pelargoniums and my Grandmother's Du Maurier cigarettes. In the evening found myself engrossed in the Women's World Cup Football final between the USA and Japan. Japan came from behind twice, and ended up winning on penalties. A hugely enjoyable game, and two never-say-die teams.

Breaking cover Lorraine pulling the side panel from the bath and deconstructing her bathroom to look for the source of a blockage in the pipe early this morning. After a spell of this sort of thing, Lorraine off to get her back cracked by a chiropractor, while I repaired home. Listened to the soundfile of The Rainbow Chorus recording of Matt and my song Found . Matt added an organ part to the opening which was splendid. Then Matt arrived in person, and once he'd done stroking Calliope, we spent some time in the ghastly business of looking at photos of ourselves, and okaying the look and feel of our CD which I'd been designing. Both very happy with the direction it is all taking. From there, the three of us went around the corner to the Yeoman for three of their devastating Yeoman burgers. I blame Mason, who started all this Yeoman burger business. A quiet evening in. Below I took an image of a cactus flower in Kew Gardens the other week. I have obviously cropped it, reversed

Sucky Took my external hard drive to a local data recovery place, and told there was a 20% chance they'd be able to retrieve anything from it. However Paul in London swears by some bloke who can recover things. So I will try him next. Cheesed off by the end of the day. I've done no writing, made no money, lost half my data, and felt as if I have achieved nothing this week. It is a recurring theme of the Summer Suck. The summers are usually when difficulties arise. However I have made progress on the CD packaging and this is theraputic work. Long chat with Matt who has been feeling illish all week. Lorraine smelling of rose and geranium essential oils this evening, having had a massage. We slunk off to the local retaurant for a mild-mannered feed, and a cold lager. Back to Lorraine's place where Sam returned from work. He has fractured one of the bones in his arm while 'wrassling' a friend at a music festival in Serbia. His part time job still insisted he work in a s

A bloody day in the technology wars A rare earthquake under the English Channel at 8.00am today. Apparently buildings shook in Brighton, but I didn't notice it in the Twitten. No, for I was embroiled in technology wars. The Dell engineer called me to explain that, as he couldn't find a place to park, he was bumping the appointment to fix the computer. Sauron-voiced I encouraged him to change his mind, and he arrived with a new motherboard and a long magnetic screwdriver and, praise be, my computer now peforms perfectly. Calliope again investigating everything he was doing with great interest. However in the war against technology, one battle does not bring victory. For the knock I accidentally gave my metal-clad, Lacie external hard drive yesterday revealed itself as fatal. The data I'd been waiting to copy across to my PC is now toast. I have had the external hard drive for over four years, but the moment it is most needed, literally hours before reloading everything back

Sophie and a CSR Off up to the Smoke today. First to Highgate to see Sophie. We snuck off for lunch in a pizza place, where Andros joined us, full of information about anaesthetics. Sophie talking about a new insight that Buddhism has taught her: that we know we can influence our cast of mind for the good, because we can influence it negatively with such ease. Then back to Sophie's office. She is pitching for new business on Friday and we brainstormed with her assistant Suzie about this for a couple of hours before I left them to it. I tubed down to the South Bank to go to the Poetry Library. Bizarrely, however, there was the Marks & Sparks AGM taking up the whole of the Royal Festival Hall. I felt vaguely affronted by this: selling off the cultural crown jewels for a spot of corporate lucre. But of course if it helps keep it all going, that's fair enough. I was told the Poetry Library was open but I had to go to the artist entrance. Rude security guards told me to wait to

Imagine My week began to take shape today. And by simply putting my computer into sleep mode, rather than turning it off, I have been able to use it. The Dell engineer is now booked, I re-read Betty the Spacegirl , which has a dark patch towards the end, and I have decided I want to retain this unless in rehearsal it gets too much. I also paid my musician amigos. Looking forward to being able to actually hear what we did. Not having done so or begun the edit feels anti-climactic. To the gym today, but feeling jaded and yearning to spread my wings. I need a holiday. Excellent TV tonight: an well-adapted The Night Watch by Sarah Waters on BBC, followed by Imagine , a film about John Lennon's last few years in New York. He was a mess, but he got his act together in the end and discovered a kind of peace before he was shot.

Tasks of small consequence Dell think there is something wrong with the circuit that starts the computer, after I held the phone so the man in India could hear the persistently beeping but dead as a doornail bastard. They will send another engineer to replace it. On the plus side this means that all the important parts of the PC will have been replaced, effectively giving me a new computer. If only it would work. However the conversation was done inside half an hour which was a mercy. With an imminent move, no working PC and no idea when the engineer will turn up, I began to feel myself drifting into limbo. So I repainted my green fence, chatted to Mark the trombonist about music, met Cath for a fast but enjoyable coffee as she was in town, had a haircut (skillfully avoiding the walrus-faced one and doging past the Police cordon outside the bookies which had been robbed), went to the gym and generally busied myself with tasks of small consequence. Naturally my computer started perfectl

The glowering stars To the garden and fish centre, to get some plastic bags in preparation for moving my fish and for Lorraine to drift happily among the plants. We spent the afternoon in Lorraine's tiny narrow back yard painting a brick wall. This we painted white to reflect light back into her ground floor, which is large but lacks natural light. Turning dirty old bricks white was therapeutic, and it seemed to work, with the room seeming brighter even in the evening sun. I mostly used a brush and gave myself a finger blister on my first-against-the-wall-come-the-revolution hands. After these labours off for a cheeky meal and cooling pint of lager. Explained to Lorraine how today is badly-starred (sun square sun). This vindicated when I returned home this evening to find that, having worked perfectly all week, my computer simply won't start again. I want to smash it with a hammer. Tomorrow holds the prospect of another day wasted haggling with Dell. The computer has generous

Chips on their shoulders Groggy this morning after yesterday's lively night. Soon off to Top Cats Vets at Patcham, where the pleasant cat-faced receptionist sold L and I some plug-in pheremones to smooth the nerves of cats, in what will be a challenging few weeks for them. I asked if they had them for people too. Lorraine also bought a catflap which works on the chips our cybercats have on their shoulders under their pelts. This will allowing them in and nobody else. I am apprehensive about how Calliope will get on with Basil and Brian. After the vet business Lorraine and I walked through Brighton for an hour or so, Lorraine pausing to buy a dishwasher, and me popping into the Basketmakers to retrieve the card I had left behind the bar from the night before. Funny, because I am known there, I had no qualms or worries about this. Then some shopping, popping into the bookshop, and feeling galled at the entire shelf of Skulduggery Pleasance books, and had a mild-mannered afternoon wa

Kung fu in the kitchen After lots more sleep began to feel better this afternoon. To mark this renaissance, and to celebrate Friday, I sauntered off in the evening to The Basketmakers. Matt suffering from a cold. But I had arranged to meet Steve Cartwright, who was on a high after what he said may have been the best ever Sumerian Kyngs gig this week. We also invited Dawn, who I felt Steve ought to meet, and Cathy. Nobody arrived on time, however Beth was there early waiting to meet her father (who drinks in the Basketmakers too) and we had a cheeky drink and a chat about Betty the Spacegirl. I quaffed pints of Seafarers with some enthusiasm, and gossiped at great length with everyone, I love evenings like this. Home with Lorraine to cheese on toast, where in the space of two minutes I managed to drop the grill pan and all its toasty lode, smash a glass coaster that stuck to the bottom of my glass of sparkling water, and kicked the door of a kitchen cupboard, which stoved in as if I

Permission to flop Snuffling on my way down from Anton's house the night before. Woke up disoriented and feverish in the middle of the night, and read for an hour and a half. Gave myself the day off, sitting on the sofa reading Alan Garner's first two books The Wierdstone of Brisingamen , and then half of The Moon of Gomrath . These children's books are rooted in Norse, Celtic and Arthurian legends, which creates a world that overlaps somewhat with Tolkien's. It has been decades since I read them, and they are nicely crafted. Garner's reputation deserves to be much greater: there are moments of great flair and real rootedness in Cheshire. Will re-read Elidor again next, I remember this one far more clearly as it is set largely in Manchester. The juxtaposition of things like bus conductors, iron railings, TVs with a disturbing magic from the past is wonderful. Normally a coldy bug corresponds with working in London, or having a surfeit of work, it was an absolute lux

Use your liberty to promote ours Refreshing walk by the grey blue sea, followed by food shopping and was back at my desk by 8:30. Not an amazingly productive day, but have at least tracked down the right people in the bank to talk to about mortgates, bank accounts etc. And I am beginning to prioritise all the things I must do, thanks in part to a chat with Mum. Chatted with Matt. He has a cold but is cheerful about our stuff. Off in the evening to eat Anton's home-made pizza. But not before having half an hour with the children, reading Oskar a story about a brussel sprout, and listening attentively as Klaudia read me a story about all the nice things that are going to happen tomorrow. Then a lengthy chat with Anton putting the world to rights, while scarfing some of his incomparable pizza, and listening to various tunes including The Wild Wild World of Mondo Movies Music which may come in handy for Betty the Spacegirl. Below a new mural in Brighton, blending the Pavilion skyline

Exploring limitations After the exhilarations of the weekend, now turning my attention to Practical Matters. I hate Practical Matters. Talked to my bank (five people, ten minutes of incidental music) and have discovered I will have to change my mortgage if I want to rent my house. My task is now to re-evaluate my bank accounts, find a new mortgage, and rearrange my tax and business affairs. Pass me the needles. Another long session in the gym, I cooked a dhal for lunch, and then Anna called for me and we went to collect Klaudia and Oskar from school (where we bumped into Anna their other Godparent). To St Anne's Wells Park, passing the sweet shop run by two older Indian brothers. They gave Klaudia and Oskar free sweets, and one of them, looking down at the children's scooters said that he and his brother could use them for the paper round. Anna and I had a coffee and tea in the park, and shared half a brownie between us all. I was picking Anna's brains about forming a limit

Unknotting A relaxed monday. Spent time sending designing posters and flyers, and sending images and copy off to The Marlborough Theatre for our Pack of 3 show at the end of August. Mercifully the computer is working well, though I still don't trust it. Also bumped into David Sheppeard from the theatre as I came out of the gym. A long gym session. Am working harder than ever there now as I have got very fat again. I get fat when I'm stressed, so whenever there is a big project going on where I am likely to be photographed, this will always coincide with chubbiness. It's sod's law. I had cunningly scheduled a massage today, a whole hour from three. Floated out from it dreamily, today's one not having been too agonising, though there are a few places she kuckles that make you want to yelp. Came back and sat before my computer for a while but my brain was mush. Spent the evening toying inconclusively with ideas for the CD booklet.

Paddle Round the Pier Slept the sleep of the just. Woke up to a cheery message from Matt who must have been up half the night buzzing. Lay in bed with Lorraine feeling very happy and relieved that the recording of the CD seems to have gone well. Later Matt forwarded me an email from Simon "Sounds great! Hi Matt I thoroughly enjoyed yesterday's session, and checking the recordings back whilst backing up data today wanted to let you know that it all sounds very good indeed." Beautifully sunny day, and after Lorraine and I had breakfasted (and I had re-hydrated) we sauntered down to the Hove Lawns by the sea, for the " Paddle Round the Pier " event. This is an event where people paddle around the remains of the old pier. As is usual in Brighton, this has grown rapidly into a massive event, and there were hundreds of tents, funfair rides and, from Beth and Mark, performances for Goldman's stage school (poignant because this is their last week of attendance). We

Recording day The morning of the day I became a recording artist sucked: beautiful sun triggering the release of pollen and other miscreant spores into the air making my throat sore. Then I felt like weeping with frustration as my computer, with its spanking new hard drive, failed again. Managed to start it and restore it to an earlier version (i.e. sometime yesterday) and it has been working since then, but I trust it as far as I can throw it, which will next be out of the window. To St Michael and All Angels for 3:30. Dr Simon Scardanelli our engineer already busy with a nest of wires and microphones. Matt seething as the priests told him that we would have to interrupt our recording for them to say prayers, something which nobody had mentioned until we arrived. This being England, we all had a cup of tea first, and there were quite a few nerves flying around, although there was a very supportive atmosphere. Simon really nice guy, who was veru reassuring to me. Adam and Tom assemblin

It's alive! Walked home this morning after slurping tea in bed made by Lorraine. A beautiful day. Busied myself rehearsing and tidying, until a nice Romanian man came to the Twitten at noon to replace my hard disk, like a heart transplant but less messy. He also fell in love with Calliope as she poked her head into the open computer next to him, and walked on the desk watching him typing. Now I have a Frankenstein's PC freshly loaded with Windows, and got busy downloading my bits and pieces, copying files across and trying to get on with all the business, and by 7.00pm had almost reassembled it. The day interspersed with rehearsals and I am feeling more confident about being able to give a good account of myself tomorrow. Had many windows open and wondering slightly afterwards what people would have made of all the passionate bleating indoors. This interspersed by calls from Beth who had urgent faxes to send to secure a place in a shared house when she goes to college, and almo