This week as it was to me
Mainly been hanging at the family casa as my mum’s foot heals. This is probably the last week I’ll spend here, as she’s going to put it on the market soon. I moved into the house over 30 years ago, so that’ll be the end of an era.
Thursday I had lots of nice friend catchups one after the other, including a nice walk in Postman’s Park with Jay. (And Jay links into me from his roundup; I love how blogging allows this reciprocal, parallel linking and conversations that are easily visible but brush past each other rather than being one chugging chain a la Twitter.
Friday me and Steve went for a dusk walk while it was mizzling, hopped the cemetery gate and having a good explore.
Today I had a fairly rare experience of my parents in the same room; they split up over 25 years ago and my dad has mostly lived in Spain since. It’s incongruous. It wakes up a memory of a life that feels a very long time ago, especially that the encounter isn’t in a wedding venue but the living room where we all used to live.
In the fevers of book-writing. It’s a commissioned project, psychology told through a series of quotes. It’s the biggest popular writing project I’ve tackled, and working at this scale is gruelling but good. Also my writing is getting better. More when it’s done.
The improvisation festival I run in Germany also needed some energies, finalising our workshop descriptions and signing off on a bunch of decisions. It’s really a labour of love, so it’s great that they really are a lovely bunch of people.
Art and improv
Went to see my friends new improv comedy night, which was apocalypse bunker-themed and pulled off really well. It was nice to see London comedy folks I haven’t seen in years – some from the 2010’s era of weekly improv jams near Mount Pleasant, and also people from Edinburgh runs even further back. Nice to have that long history in this weird artform.
This week I’m trying to make sure I have change for homeless people and give it to those who ask without evaluation. It feels like the right thing to do.
A couple of guitar bands, moodier I Heart Hiroshima via Jay
Other than that, I’m mainly listening to the same stuff over and over to work to. At the moment it’s Keith Jarrett.
Confession: Nothing this week, beyond speed reading for the book. I guess working my way through this humungous Janet Malcolm article, The Impossible Profession, might count as a thing I’m reading?
“Fuck those moon rocks. It’s always the same sort of people who get to go on the space missions, so I’m not prepared to pay attention to the things they brought back.”
All ideology is toxic, because ideology is a kind of insult to the gift of human free thinking.