under another sun

Enzo has discovered pointing with his finger, and he is doing things with his index finger rather than his whole hand when he was here today. Life drawing this morning. Had great fun, although I didn't produce much that was good.  Strangely upset stomach today.   At tea time off to Lewes, where I met Robin at the station and walked to the John Harvey Tavern, where the Needlewriters had an evening, featuring John McCullough reading from his new book Crowd Voltage . Strong work, and I find John has an exhilarating ability to choose a metaphor or image that is so far away from what you would expect would work, but somehow in his hands does.  Also readings from  Jackie Wills and Bethan Roberts. Jackie reading a prose work about her allotment, and Bethan, who is a very successful, reading an excerpt from her new novel. Both excellent writers but I was left with a not for me-ishness about what they'd read this evening.  Lots of the usual suspects there, Janet, Charlot...

Up early and was collected outside by Brian shortly after eight, with Marley in the boot. Brian had already been swimming in the sea and was generally glowing. We went to Friston forest and had a lovely walk through the trees deep in discussion about all kinds of things. We paused at the place where you can look down into the valley and see the hedgerows make a big cross in the landscape. Brian uses this place to pray briefly most days. I find this quite touching.  Home again for breakfast, and as Rosie had stayed overnight we had breakfast and long chats with her. Rosie and Lorraine went off to see Pat and Maureen, before Rosie went off to work in the afternoon.  Lorraine told me that when Rosie arrived yesterday, they were talking and there was hammering on the roof. It was two crows, pecking at bones, with seagull feathers. The current theory is that the Robert the robbing herring gull has been murdered by, or at least scavenged by, crows. Probably a murder of crows. I did ...

No work. Bliss. Up and breakfast with Lorraine, and she went off to walk and talk with Penny and other ex-headteacher friends I spent a happy couple of hours finalising my reading for tonight's Needlewriters. (Success happens when preparation meets opportunity, I reminded myself). A lunchtime walk, and the luxury of a nap this afternoon. Quite nervous, and bleating nervously to Lorraine once or twice. Pleased Robin and I were reading together which somehow made it feel better.  I'd not seen the rooms upstairs at the John Harvey Tavern so crowded. I counted about 45 people. All my favourite poet friends there, SJB, Charlotte, Janet, Stephen Bone, Antony Mair and Jeremy. Plus there was a delegation from Seaford, Adele, Patrick, Andrew and Kate. Then, greatly to my surprise, old Warwick University pals, Will Leith and Callum Murray appeared, who I first met when I was 19, and then sat in the front row. As I was being introduced by James Ellis, who did a great job all night, I some...

Took a brief with Keith this morning, from the old FB, Pat and Perky. Keith and I spent the day batting bits back and forth as usual. This against a backdrop of breaking off to man&womanhandle metal bed frames downstairs and other bits that Lorraine was getting on with.  In the evening I made off to Lewes to the Needlewriters poetry, where I heard Antony Mair read, a lovely man, plus Beth Miller read some prose and Frances Presley gave us some selections from her collected works.  A bizarre interlude where one of the staff of the John Harvey Tavern poked her head in, as Beth Miller was reading and the audience were listening attentively, and said to Janet and Rachel sitting by the door that 'you do know it's a £50 charge for the room don't  you?' Something apparently not previously mentioned in the years the Needlewriters have been meeting there.  I sat on a table with SJB, Charlotte and Stephen Bone -- who were giving me encouragement with pursuing the collectio...

Up very early and sent some poems off. Then slogging on concepts for my new German clients all day today, in the field of cosmetic surgery, which at least means I could be a bit more colourful in my language. Pausing only to hang up laundry, and house tidying and squirting thyroid medicine down Calliope's throat and leaving a series of unreturned voicemail messages with the clowns who did our path. Off to Lewes again this evening for another poetry reading.  The train ticket costing me considerably less this time because I have availed myself of a senior railcard app. The money offsetting the horror of seniority. To the Needlewriters at the John Harvey Tavern the centre of all things Harveys. Availed myself of a pint of a rare Harvey's mild after I saw Jeremy drinking one. A decent night hearing poetry from Alasdair Paterson, Ruth O’Callaghan and David Swann. Particularly taken by Ruth O'Callaghan's work and I bought one of her books afterwards. Chatting afterwards in a...

Found myself struggling for concentration this morning, so bearing Brian Eno's advice of 'When in doubt -- tidy up' simply did stuff instead zoomed about tidying, doing laundry, taking stuff to the post office. Then decided to get a fresh perspective and have a cup of coffee there. Suddenly began to get my head around the mental block I had, (after the yummy mummies had taken a screeching child away) eagerly opened my yellow notebook and snatched up my blue inked fountain pen only for it to run out after a dozen words. Bah. Simply went home though and got on with the day, rejuvenated. Amazing how many times doing something else is the answer. Off this evening to The Needlewriters  in Lewes. I caught the train at London Road, where I sought out Sarah by prearrangement in the last carriage. She congratulated me on the publication of Sin Cycle , and we discussing her editorship of the works of Mary Barnard  hopefully to be published by SUNY. We headed to the John Harvey Ta...