by
birdsong
@ Friday, Dec. 08, 2006 - 08:11:22 pm
Why does the last thing you need always happen?
A 'dark walk' with Stan and LC to the chippie for dinner - I know, I know, but it's only once a month - and we bump into PB and her daughter Ellie.
First time I've actually seen her for eight months, not counting a couple of waves from a passing car, and she still looks amazing.
Uncomfortably so.
I keep seeing her middle daughter around, whose name escapes me, but she is the spitting image of her mum. And Ellie too, who has recognised me a couple of times as I walk past her hang-out at Shakeaway.
She's friendly, but I'm surprised she is prepared to say hi in front of her mates.
Proabably 12 by now?
I can hardly believe that seven years have past since our 'relationship' came to end, and it's a bit scary how much of a pickle my head is in after this evening's cheap ten minute thrill on the bridge. Maybe the box isn't quite big enough.
Or at least I need to think about repairing the lid.
Why has that card turned up again?
Talking to blokey this afternoon has left me feeling odd too. A bit down, a bit nervous, and very tired. Again.
Worthwhile - and I'm going to start a series of sessions from next week which the business can pay for.
I ordered two new Macs today, so it's not as if we are short of the cash.
This is the last month of crappy wages too - doubling in January!
Hurrah
What an uplifting feeling it is to arrive at work via the song of a Mistle Thrush from the top of the limes in Hoglands Park, and the evocative scream of Herring Gulls on rooftops outside our window.
If the forecast holds true for next week and we return to the crisp , cold sunshine I will start my 'art project' on the roof.
Excellent link, mate.
I woke up in the middle of the night with an idea in my head. Totally random, but that's how they come to me.
I thougth about trying to organise an exhibition of Polish Art, and maybe a poetry and stories group, or something.
We have so many migrants around here now, in all six classes at school and thousands across the city - displaced people who have brought with them a culture and a heritage that we know nothing about it. I imagined introducing myself to the huddle of parents in the playground and finding out which ones speak the best English. Talking to them about their country, and the art prodcued from it. Poetry especially would be an inspiration.
I'm sure setting up an exhibition wouldn't be that difficult if it was local and on a small scale - I know several people who could advise etc...
Like I I need something else to do.
Still have a pile of interviews with John sitting next to me.
But with none of the ones I've done so far going on line this side of the New year, I'm losing inspiration for that as well.
Have in the meantime submitted a 25 question lyric quiz and 2006 retrospective for consideration as competitions.
Received three more signed postcards this week.
Must catalogue what stuff I have, as it goes a long way beyond the music now.
