Saturday, 20 March 2010

Rusty, bones and repercussions.

This morning I visited Rusty in his garret for a coffee and donuts.

He ushered me in, showed me the coffee pot then sat down at his kitchen table which was strewn with what appeared to be human bones. He started whittling one of them.

'They look very much like human bones Rusty' I said. 'What are you doing?'

'Yup' He replied. 'They sure is. I was going through the family closet and found em there. I'm making a marimba'.

'What on earth for?'

'Well Jan, I've been writing a family history for some time and it recently occurred to me to put it to music seein as musicals are all the rage these days... And then I thought what better instrument to accompany the story than a marimba made from skeletons found in the closet'.

'Scary'. I said.

'Not as scary as the story'. He replied as I poured the coffee into black and white mugs.




Thursday, 18 March 2010

Messy

St Patricks night at the cow... 1,300 pints of guinness sold.

Another sad day.

My ex father in law and grandfather to my daughter died today... RIP John.

What makes the day doubly sad is that it is my grandsons 6th birthday. I often amazed at lifes grim coincidences. This is the second this year.


Wednesday, 17 March 2010

Advice

You know when I want somebody to not do something, you are my guy.

Money

I am sitting here with a man who earns $5oo,ooo a year, he is the unhappiest man I know yet I do not know how to respond to his unhappiness.

You cannot buy that kind of unhappiness. It buys you. It pays you a salary with expenses. It fills your phone with vacuous numbers. It surrounds you in the bars you trawl. It courriers over your hangover regular as clockwork. It greets you with the words 'good bye'.

I've said 'Do the math. How long can you live on a beach for?'

He said Is that with Russian whores or without?

I got up, walked down to the edge of the water and stared out over the horizon.

Not a ship in sight.

Monday, 15 March 2010

Portobello scenes.

Who is the girl in the red dress?

Stockholm syndrome and the BBC.

A funny night spent sitting in the Cow reading Gunter Grass and watching a very drunk girl, fresh from a funeral in gold stilettos repeatedly falling off her stool and looking as pleased as punch for all that.

And meeting a film maker friend to discuss future projects.

Stockholm syndrome cropped up in the conversation and we talked about marriage and how one half of a marriage or the other was suffering from the syndrome.

There is a film to be made here.

I met a splendid woman from the BBC.

It occurred to me that most employees of the BBC are suffering from Stockholm syndrome.

Sunday, 14 March 2010

Another imaginary overheard conversation.

I'm not in love with you anymore. I love you but I am not in love.

Funny. I'm in love with you... I don't love you. I don't even like you but I'm in love with you!

Saturday, 13 March 2010

Mapping the muse

She is my North, my South, my East, my West. My new found land; my Detroit.

Apologies to metaphysicians everywhere.

Zen and toad licking.

Rusty called tonight. He spoke about his new pet, a Mexican toad, said he'd been licking it.

I told him I was a little depressed.

He said:

The only way you can fall now is up... Let go.

Your kind of gravity only exists because you believe in it

And if you take 'IT' out of gravity you get gravy.

You can do a lot of sensible thinking on the back of a rodeo horse.

Or licking a toad.


Friday, 12 March 2010

Relationship day in the real life section.

The title comes from a one time muses blog.

I posted a comment saying that it sounded like a title for a gloomy 'British poem'.

I write this as the CFO of an international corporation sings James Taylor songs and Joni Mitchell and Carol King and plays the harmonica and I wonder at this strangest of friendships and feel as comfortable as I have felt whilst writing in the midst of company..

A happy creative environment but bonkers for all that and I think about the idea of prose moving into something that is almost recognisable as poetry in the way that stilted acquaintance blends into friendship. nothing rhymes yet there is something lyrical.

We learn most about people by getting to know them slowly and keeping an open mind.

And not bullying them

And not letting them bully us because we want to be popular or liked

And not bullying ourselves into distance from other people

Friends dribble into our lives.

Or by osmosis creep in.

Into

Relationship day in the real life section.

Then come and go unconditionally with a bagful of memories

and an invitation to return

on relationship day

In the real life section.

Come back: The happiest meant words possible to say

And the happiest to hear.



Tristan called round tonight. He said he had had enough.

I believe him.

Tuesday, 9 March 2010

Missing.

Sitting here, eating a pot of chocolate ice cream, Missing

It suddenly dawned on me that 'missing' is just another word for looking back.

It also means insecurity.

missing is just having a hole to fill.

Like a grave.