Thursday 22nd of December, 2011
I keep taking photographs of The Shard
Thursday 13th of October, 2011
amazing how much corrugated cardboard you can stuff into a cupboard
Spent a large part of the day helping Viv Schwarz with her carboard maze at the Sandpit event at the National Maritime Museum. Lots of fun, though I realised I'm not as young as I used to be - after about an hour and a half lifting and taping and so forth my back and legs stiffened up and I spent the rest of the time hobbling a bit. Took both cameras - the good one to make an "official" movie and the cheap one to make the diary entry. Eventually, the staff are waiting for us to pack up and stuff the cardboard into a cupboard for disposal tomorrow (amazing how much corrugated cardboard you can stuff into a cupboard if you put your back into it. Hope someone warns whoever-it-is before they open the cupboard tomorrow morning). Catch a train and home very late indeed.
Monday 3rd of October, 2011
bit of a mistake, it's a bloodbath
Up at 6:00 and went for a run, as the night stumbled towards dawn. Possibly the only time I'll do this, but a very good thing to do, especially during a heatwave. Home, shave - bit of a mistake, it's a bloodbath, and any time I may have gained by getting up early is lost in waiting for the bleeding to stop. Then shower, sit, breakfast.
To Walker, to cut up pieces of paper. And why not.
Brief stop at home, then off to the latest new VAC venue, in Hampstead. It appears my nylon-string's electronics have decided to not work again. As I'm playing into a microphone, I ditch my intention to do Aerodynamics in front of peoploids, and do 100 Horses (bit rushed, and a mess, but a popular one, apparantly) and The Rest of our Lives, which goes very well. It just goes to show, You Never Can Tell.
Home just before midnight, let's see what time I get up tomorrow.
Wednesday 28th of September, 2011
Surprised I didn't bump into anything. Or anything into me.
An amazing day, weather-wise - the first properly summery day I can remember this year, and it's almost October. The weather is definitely playing sadistic games: "Remember days can be like this? If you're very good, I'll give you another one. Maybe But you have to be very good."
That said, I get halfway to Walker and I have to turn around and go back for my entry pass, so by the time I get there I'm really rather sweaty, so there is a downside to the nice weather.
Sit on the balcony after lunch, in the sunshine. Which is also nice.
Read on my phone on the way home. Surprised I didn't bump into anything. Or anything into me.
Make dinner, and afterwards try to do stuff, but my head's too bubbly, so I just watch Doctor Who and search for TV themes.
Tuesday 27th of September, 2011
in the cupboard, with a break for soup
Up early, but given that I needed to do a bit of something, and then walk over to East Street to get vegetables (and then shower), into Walker very late. Bah.
Maisying in the cupboard, with a break for soup.
Home, then out for a run in the gathering dusk - up over Southwark Bridge and then round to Westminster and then home. It's still difficult getting past the tourists on Westminster Bridge. Home. Another shower and then dinner. After dinner write an apologia for It Ain't Half Hot Mum, which is, I freely confess, an odd thing to do.
Sunday 18th of September, 2011
trying to find a long enough route where I'm not constantly going to be bumping into people
During the day, manage to do a thirty-minute run - it's not a very big envelope, but I'm pushing it as far as I can - up over past Tate Britain, then back down Kennington Lane, round by Dante Road. Essentially trying to find a long enough route where I'm not constantly going to be bumping into people.
In the afternoon over to Hammersmith to see Polly's Open Studio exhibition - fascinating to see her paintings evolve year on year. Nice long chat. The river over there is especially impressive at sunset, this time of year.
Home via the Portuguese restaurant in Vauxhall, where we have big plates of steak and stuff, with Portuguese football on the large TVs and someone playing sentimental ballads on a home keyboard in the corner. Quite nice. Then get some custard tarts and go home to eat them with tea, after which I do some archiving and watch yesterday's Doctor Who again.
Friday 16th of September, 2011
Anatomical logic suggests that that makes us the arseliners.
The day's a bit of a blur. I go for a long run (long by recent standards) over Southwark Bridge, then along the north embankment. The tourists haven't gone home yet, sadly.
Home, shower, lunch, prepare to go out.
In the evening to Acton, where I'm playing guitar for Phil Jeays. On the tube, I'm sitting opposite a cellist.
At the other end it takes a while, but I finally locate the venue, where the headliner are still soundchecking. Then the second band (who have lots of electronic gear, and work quite efficiently to make sure it all does what it's supposed to) who I suppose are the torsoliners do their soundcheck while we have a drink. And then We go on to check that everything works and play. Anatomical logic suggests that that makes us the arseliners.
Off for a bit, I drink a free shot that's offered me (unprofessional, I know, but what the hell. It tastes faintly of cherries, and reminds me a bit of cough mixture).
I learn some things: There are several chords in Phil's that after nearly thirteen years I still don't have under my fingers (though there are many that I do); I really should insist on using the preamp with the guitar, otherwise it sounds a bit thin; I'm really quite old. I suppose I knew that anyway.
I go downstairs to the bar to buy old man's beer. There's another band playing down there, which contains the cellist who was on the tube earlier. I suppose she must have found the venue even harder to find than me. A lot more sedate than upstairs, where it's jumpin'.
I sneak home before the headliners go on, leaving the young people to their fun.
I get off at Embankment to enjoy the walk over the footbridge, and buy a kebab on the way home. Mmm, health food!
Lots of programmes about Pink Floyd on. Am struck by the fact that they were a really good band, something that's easily forgotten when you know the albums that well. Actually they seem to have been at least four really good bands.
