Sloe day
A day of unfoolish domestic contentment pottering about with Lorraine this morning and in the afternoon I met Sarah Barnsley a poet who teaches at Goldsmiths, University of London. Had a good chat in a cafe about poetry, writing and publishing. I really enjoyed talking to her. Robin was meant to join us, but cried off with a wretched cold but she and I chatted later. She is going through house moving stuff, and going through the standard frustrations with banks and so on. Probably prompting me to have anxiety dreams about property and selling and buying houses.
Lorraine out tonight, and I spent a happy few hours working on some poems, reading poems and listening to the album Africa Speaks America Answers by Guy Warren on Spotify. At 9.00pm Avatar was on TV and I watched this, although stripped of the cinematic scale and 3D the thinness of the plot and dialogue was even more evident. Scandalous how much of Roger Dean's visual imagination was criminally imported wholesale and unacknowledged for the movie. Sipped a glass of sloe gin left over from Christmas as I watched it.
Lorraine out tonight, and I spent a happy few hours working on some poems, reading poems and listening to the album Africa Speaks America Answers by Guy Warren on Spotify. At 9.00pm Avatar was on TV and I watched this, although stripped of the cinematic scale and 3D the thinness of the plot and dialogue was even more evident. Scandalous how much of Roger Dean's visual imagination was criminally imported wholesale and unacknowledged for the movie. Sipped a glass of sloe gin left over from Christmas as I watched it.
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