Adam's ale
Grim start to the day, foot extremely painful. Running late I set off armed with a hiking stick feeling tetchy and full of self-pity. Lorraine, qua rescuing angel, gave me a lift to the station. Sweaty on the train, next to a man smelling strongly of garlic, I tried to catch up on the concept work I could not do yesterday. Wet soap thoughts slipping away before I could grasp them left me wondering if I had lost 20 IQ points overnight, so tidied my stuff into my bag. Discovered that a capless pen had leaked all over my nice mushroom coloured trousers.
Hobbled into work and drank four pints of water one after the other. Within two or three minutes my brain miraculously able to string thoughts together again, and I did more in the next ten minutes than I had done in previous hours. Clearly I had been badly dehydrated by painkillers and other pills I have been taking.
Lunch a pleasant wander around the corner with First Matie to score baked potatoes. Helicopters roaring in the air for a hour or so monitoring the big student march which had started nearby. First Matie and I swapping ailment stories (as she has an ulcerated eye) as we waited for our potatoes to be heated together in the same microwave. Kate aghast as I had opted for mushrooms and she feared her food risked contamination by their disgusting slimy smell or taste.
Home feeling rather better than I had done in the morning. Cooked spaghetti which I fed to Lorraine who was at home late after another gruelling evening session. Both rather keen for the weekend.
Below Finished Just Kids by Patti Smith, mainly about her relationship with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. Very atmospheric about bohemian New York in the early seventies. Patti Smith is also a fabulously photogenic person. Mapplethorpe took the iconic cover shot for her first and most famous Horses album. Talk about establishing a whole image with one snap. Amazing. I've yet to fall in love with Patti Smith's poetry or music, but I really enjoyed this book. Although she and Mapplethorpe dedicated themselves to their art with undoubted intensity, they were also in the right place at the right time. She was offered a poetry deal on her first reading, and the head of Arista records happened to see her first ever music gig at CBGBs.
Grim start to the day, foot extremely painful. Running late I set off armed with a hiking stick feeling tetchy and full of self-pity. Lorraine, qua rescuing angel, gave me a lift to the station. Sweaty on the train, next to a man smelling strongly of garlic, I tried to catch up on the concept work I could not do yesterday. Wet soap thoughts slipping away before I could grasp them left me wondering if I had lost 20 IQ points overnight, so tidied my stuff into my bag. Discovered that a capless pen had leaked all over my nice mushroom coloured trousers.
Hobbled into work and drank four pints of water one after the other. Within two or three minutes my brain miraculously able to string thoughts together again, and I did more in the next ten minutes than I had done in previous hours. Clearly I had been badly dehydrated by painkillers and other pills I have been taking.
Lunch a pleasant wander around the corner with First Matie to score baked potatoes. Helicopters roaring in the air for a hour or so monitoring the big student march which had started nearby. First Matie and I swapping ailment stories (as she has an ulcerated eye) as we waited for our potatoes to be heated together in the same microwave. Kate aghast as I had opted for mushrooms and she feared her food risked contamination by their disgusting slimy smell or taste.
Home feeling rather better than I had done in the morning. Cooked spaghetti which I fed to Lorraine who was at home late after another gruelling evening session. Both rather keen for the weekend.
Below Finished Just Kids by Patti Smith, mainly about her relationship with photographer Robert Mapplethorpe. Very atmospheric about bohemian New York in the early seventies. Patti Smith is also a fabulously photogenic person. Mapplethorpe took the iconic cover shot for her first and most famous Horses album. Talk about establishing a whole image with one snap. Amazing. I've yet to fall in love with Patti Smith's poetry or music, but I really enjoyed this book. Although she and Mapplethorpe dedicated themselves to their art with undoubted intensity, they were also in the right place at the right time. She was offered a poetry deal on her first reading, and the head of Arista records happened to see her first ever music gig at CBGBs.
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