It’s snowing steadily again, and settling in the ruts formed yesterday.  The sky is a dirty yellow colour.  The day is peaceful so far.  A layer of snow muffles the sounds of people and traffic, in the same way that people put foam rubber or egg boxes on walls of recording studios.  I’m listening to … Continue reading 94.  Tuesday morning. →

New energy.  No commitments.  Awoke early with new clarity.  Today is the last day of our old ways, tomorrow a new agenda begins.  Light.  Cleanliness. On Monday I made a stew and became so ill I had an out of body experience.  Dehydration, green liquid, a rancid smell of decay, sweating, shivering, muscle spasms, floating.  … Continue reading 73. Wednesday.  Two days later. →

I’m at home today, I’ve just done domestic things this morning, things I should do more often, but they are always there for me later, another day.  I’m beginning to realise how it must feel to be a housewife with no responsibilities other than a home to keep, as sitcoms used to portray.  June Whitfield … Continue reading 64.  Tuesday.  Let’s see if I make more sense today. →

I've been thinking more lately about a new different life.  Away from London, away from theatre, away from having to have a “job”.  I'm disillusioned by that world at the moment.  I have no interest in it.  Performances get cancelled daily due to virus rules I am no longer able to compute.  I'm supposed to … Continue reading 125.  Monday, lunchtime, in a haze. →

Back when lunch was allowed. I had an idea of what to write earlier but my mind is blank now.  I'm feeling that I should start to contract, withdraw, and recluse away for the duration.  Home, vegetables, films, painting, writing.  Staying at home, early mornings, cycling, going out at night to photograph and film the … Continue reading 63. Monday afternoon.  Lunch at St Pancras. →

I don’t know what went wrong. I’m here now, piecing things together. Actually not piecing together. Working out what to do next. Cutting things out. Planning. New spaces. Different life. Different people. I have to do this every few years. Different writing. Different habits. Not piecing together, tearing apart. Separating good from bad. Letting go … Continue reading 11th March 2022 →

I decided at the beginning of this week to break bad habits, to make a concerted effort to not do the same thing every day.  So far it has worked, in as much as I’m not staying home, but I’m not doing anything worthwhile.  Two days running I’ve contrived to take a trip out of … Continue reading 93.  Thursday afternoon. →

Another misty sky.  Yesterday it cleared by midday.  I thought of going to the Thames Path but didn't.  Maybe I'll do that tomorrow.  Sometimes I start motivated, then think about what I want to do, and the thinking makes it too difficult, and the motivation dissolves.  I have to sense when that hurdle off too … Continue reading 78. Saturday. →

Back at the institution around the corner from the bookshop.  I always feel I have to be slightly circumspect when coming here, furtive, invisible.  People may see me.  I’ve not felt like this since living in Halifax.  The Melvyn Hayes idiot creature is here for light entertainment.  He’d be too excitable in a sex situation … Continue reading 44.  Friday afternoon. →

An odd sort of day so far.  Bitterly cold outside.  I had thought about catching the last train up to the west end, cycle around for a few hours, then head back as it starts to get light.  This is probably a bad idea though.  The night is at it's longest, and coldest.  I'm no … Continue reading 85 New Years Eve – afternoon. →