under another sun

Off to London this afternoon. I'd been doing bits and pieces at home, but not very productively. I did some poetry and managed not to make things worse, which was nice. To Victoria, and I walked down to Tate Britain, which is becoming my new favourite gallery. There was an exhibition there by Rachel Whiteread , who I have liked for years. She makes invisible spaces concrete. I didn't have enough time to go into the exhibition, but I looked at the big piece outside, which was a hundred spaces under chairs she had cast in what may have been glass or some kind of plastic. They looked like big boiled sweets. The problem I am beginning to have with Whiteread is that everything she does is an expression of the same idea. I rashly snapped two of the Francis Bacon faces, and enjoyed it when I was looking at Jacob and the Angel by Epstien, which I absolutely love, a two women stopped and sniggered at it, and then one said, "ooh look he's got wings!" From there I walk...

Another misty day. Lorraine dropped me off at Preston Park Station this morning and I went to Gatwick where I met Pat and Barney having gone through security. Off this morning to Newquay to go to Andy Wilson's funeral. Met Pat's second cousin Liz who was with some others who had worked with Andy at a different agency. I got lucky with the seating and had two seats to myself, on the Flybe, and sat by the window. A blanket of cloud broke up a bit over the North Cornwall coast and I could see the beaches of the rugged coast before we landed. The airport smaller than Guernsey and with no luggage we were all through in no time, and into an eight person cab, which hared us off through more mis to the crematorium on the outskirts of Truro, we were slightly late but crept in nevertheless. Andy's coffin there. A misty day here too, and I was interested to see some of the countryside as I had never been to this part of England before. Then, standing about outside, Barney, Pat a...

First of March. Working well on the book this morning. Spoke to Pat about Andy, he is going to go to Andy's funeral in Truro Friday week. I decided I wanted to, and fortuitously, the work I was going to be doing in London with my pal Keith has been bumped for a week, so I booked a flybe ticket to Newquay on the same flight as Pat, another pal Barney will be coming too. Feel happy this is all decided. To the gym late in the afternoon. Only after I was on the cross trainer did I realise that my little towel, unused for some weeks, smelled foul with damp. Felt somewhat self conscious about this, especially as the place was unusually full of students. Accidentally wiped sweat off my face with it at one point, which was a schoolboy error. Walked home, then more work, before breaking off to cook. And welcome Mrs Kenny back into the fold.

A sweltering night, sleeping with the big doors open in our bedroom. Cats locked out in case Brian had another roof climbing adventure. Calliope scratching at the door like a demon intermittently. Up to London slightly after rush hour. A train delay (obviously) but I met Matty boy at Blackfriars, we went for a coffee then in for a meeting with the client the agency will pitch to next week. Nice people. Then after a debrief in an Eat cafe, we went back to Chiswick, carefully choosing one of the new air conditioned District line trains. After work, back into London where I went to the Marquis of Granby where I met Robbie, Pat, Barney, Mark and Clare, all former colleagues. En route I bumped into another old friend, and copywriter Debs, who if her son hadn't been going to Zanzibar would have joined us. Fun to be catching up with old friends. The call of the seagull suddenly heard, and I legged off first, grabbed a cab and just missed my train from Blackfriars. Ate a thoughtful san...

To work, feeling less tired than of late. Poems on the train, then quite a busy morning. Out to a local restaurant with seven others for a curry lunch. Unbelievably slow service. You could feel the space time continuum buckled as we waited and the waiters crept about reluctantly as if we had ruined their day by visiting their restaurant. Outside a gale blowing through London again, and it was blowing the sign outside the shop down, and straining the trees and pedestrians leant into it like cartoon people. I sat opposite Matt and next to Pat, and had good fun. In the evening, after work was done, I had a couple of the agency’s free Thursday drinks, meeting Matt Hindley again, before setting off with Pat and Clare to The Dog and Duck in Soho. This is a corner pub, much beloved of advertising types. We met  Mark Dawson and Barney there and stood outside in the cold for a while. Clare left after a bit, and it was a night of four writers. Heard the incredible story of Mike Ferg,...

Richard reading from his new book on Jenny Kendall-Tobias's show on BBC Guernsey . Richard's bit starts at 3:08:50. Naturally, well worth a listen and of course there is great chemistry with the Jenny. Meanwhile the other half of Guernsey's most famous couple, they lovely Jane, is 'being' Camilla again. Have a look at  alisonjackson.com . Scandalous. For me, a decidedly non-showbiz grey and rainy Monday. This week I am writing for a financial client, and am based in Farringdon. I'm sitting opposite Barney, an old colleague. Homeward journey delayed because of a fire scare closing Farringdon station. Despite this, home at a reasonable time, for supper with Lorraine, and now to bed. A smidge of travel chaos.

Music to my ears Working on the haemophilia newsletter this morning. Later, while in the gym, I had an interesting, and musical, thought about the new piece while on the Hulk legs machine. Meanwhile news from Guernsey: Jane and Richard's wedding certificate has gone astray in the Guernsey Post which, quite rightly, Jane is less than impressed with. Off in the evening to Matt's place in Hove. Helped him move furniture around to make room for the choir. Adam arrived with his marimba too, which looks like a nest of giant's pan pipes and wheely struts before assembly. Once the music started I felt oddly like Inspector Morse, an onlooker in the corner of Matt's high-ceilinged room with a lump in my throat as I heard the choir rehearsing Clameur . Something thrilling about hearing nine people sing your words, and feeling rather awed by the quality of Matt's music. This is hugely beautiful piece. I am so lucky to be able to work with him. Once rehearsal was over, I suspect...

Tapdancing Up early working on yet another new poem this morning. Then on with business. Managed to firm up the Marlborough Theatre booking for the end of August. This good news, and now gives us a date to hang everything from. Went to the gym and then zoomed up to Lewes to meet an old colleague Barney, who has been on 'gardening leave', in his case quite literally as he has been volunteering to help tidy wild places, and learn about forestry. We met in the Lewes Arms and sat in the high garden next to what I think Barney said was the old castle wall. We had an enjoyable long chat, stroking his lurcher's head, and then I came back to Brighton to have talk to Tarik about dates. In the evening off out with Lorraine, Dawn, and a really fun pal of Lorraine's called Rosie. Off to The Hartington where The Shakespeare Trio, aka Dipak and Richard were playing. Beautifully as usual, although they were miced too quietly, and as the place was full there was a lot of chitchat in th...