94.  Tuesday morning.

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.

11th March 2022

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

78. Saturday.

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.

44.  Friday afternoon.

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.


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