Two nights without much sleep and I am like a zombie. oH, HOW i HATE NOT SLEEPING! M anaged to get to Uni class last night by minicab. However they sent Two driver to collect me! I got in one car then got out of that car and into the car of the guy who'd dropped me off originally. I felt bad because driver number two came all the way from the same cab office in Walthamstow and ended up with no fare...still, not my fault and what to do? My lack of sleep from night one caused be to be irratable and rude(I thought)...so I asked the driver to tell me his story..where he was from etc...(India, Bangalore, been in London 8 years, was an engineer, had si xmonths in Germany before comming here, London a great city, some asain people find it lonely - cos they never go out - but not me, I got an ulcer, used to work for Bank of Scotland, lost my job, things are difficult for me at the moment, personal problems too, I've had a job offer from Dubai but I dont want to leave London - but - I may have too, been cabbing for 3 months, not what I want but sometimes you have to do these things to get by, its a job anyway)...ME - "OH." (and what can I say to that!)
Thought I would copy out here something thats going on to a white card later; Goodness knows where I am going to use it but its such a great snippet I just have to write it down. (It was related to me by my yoga teacher who is a 32 year old female New Yorker)Here it is:
"Last week I met
a transexual psychic who used to be a porn producer who says she still likes women but is not a lesbian. The thing is I have this feeling she fancies me." I need to catch up with some sleep now.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
Sunday, 25 October 2009
Friday, 23 October 2009
Good morning! Have sorted out work - My Company has an Away Day tomorrow - so am now a free man....re read extract from The Guardian article(did Emily give this to us/or Alison???) on Richard Ford by Laura Barton.....about his relationship to the process of writing. Very insightful....you know, much of these techniques I have already been using, the notebook on my person when out and about to capture bits of overheard conversation for character dialogue and profound, interesting observations of people and situations. What I've noticed about my own approach is that I 'll often have a thought - a phrase or even a picture like the scene from a film in my head, of a character saying or doing or even thinking something...also threads of plot or just a completely obtuse idea...(Ive started getting them again after a fallow period over the summer, so the City course must be helping). On Monday night I was forced by a few of these 'pressing friends' as I like to refer to them - to get out of bed, shortly after I had got into bed to retire for the night - and jot them down in my note book.
Yesterday evenning I had a brilliant Tango lesson in Moorgate! #######################
Dancing Argentine Tango is creative food for my soul. It also feeds my writing, as does going to the pictures(which I did after tango). I met Howard at Maison Berteaux in Soho around eight and we shared a pot of green (real leaves!!) tea. We sat in the ante room so I could eat my illicit brought from home sandwich as he munched on a piece of cheese and broccoli quiche. Another (young arty )couple are seated infront of us - he looks Italian...shoulder length dark hair, unshaven look, expensive sweater with a geometric pattern.The girl with him is caramel dark with set, shortish black hair. I cant make out whether they are lovers on an early stage-affair -date(there is a slight awkwardness about him; the way he keeps putting his elbows on and of the table) or just aquiantances. She gets up to visit the toilet(in the adjacent building and upstairs, so I know, and so will Mr. Italiano know, she will be gone for a while - especially if there is a que , which is possible as next door where they take your order IS busy).Mr Italiano turns himself round in his chair so that he is almost directly facing me(and Howard's back)...he is clearly uncomfortable with something or someone because he is unable to sit still, even for 30 seconds. He opens his legs allowing his crotch to unfold into full view. He looks about small refreshment arena , at Howard's back , then me, though careful not to engage a look;then at the couple of young japanese girls who've not long arrived and sat down to frothy lattes and great slice each of layered cream cake. I make a few notes in that cafe - because it's where I have the idea - about starting my novel in the first person - with the protagonist, who has - under a witness protection scheme - been reassigned a complete new identity - telling us how it feels to having to rote learn an internal history belonging to someone else ; an old friend who you've never known or met - having to let go of you own past(having dementia or a dose of old style ETC would be helpful- the emptyness he feels - like the gap at the end of a shelf vacated by a loaned out library book- awaiting the return...well, something like that..I cant wait to get on with it now; I am almost wetting my pants(well - perhaps that the strong tea I had earlier)....off into town and another Tango lesson at 5pm....so ....later.....
Oh, after about 10 miutes, the caramel girl comes back in and I notice that she's wearing very sexual knee length brown boots. They fit so tightly they seem moulded onto her lower legs.One of the boots has a scratch like an open wound along the top inside edge.She doesnt notice I have noticed this but I look up and understand by the look that Mr Italiano gives me, followed by a flash grin, that he has.
If anyone IS reading this....do chip in with your pennith worth!
BG
Yesterday evenning I had a brilliant Tango lesson in Moorgate! #######################
Dancing Argentine Tango is creative food for my soul. It also feeds my writing, as does going to the pictures(which I did after tango). I met Howard at Maison Berteaux in Soho around eight and we shared a pot of green (real leaves!!) tea. We sat in the ante room so I could eat my illicit brought from home sandwich as he munched on a piece of cheese and broccoli quiche. Another (young arty )couple are seated infront of us - he looks Italian...shoulder length dark hair, unshaven look, expensive sweater with a geometric pattern.The girl with him is caramel dark with set, shortish black hair. I cant make out whether they are lovers on an early stage-affair -date(there is a slight awkwardness about him; the way he keeps putting his elbows on and of the table) or just aquiantances. She gets up to visit the toilet(in the adjacent building and upstairs, so I know, and so will Mr. Italiano know, she will be gone for a while - especially if there is a que , which is possible as next door where they take your order IS busy).Mr Italiano turns himself round in his chair so that he is almost directly facing me(and Howard's back)...he is clearly uncomfortable with something or someone because he is unable to sit still, even for 30 seconds. He opens his legs allowing his crotch to unfold into full view. He looks about small refreshment arena , at Howard's back , then me, though careful not to engage a look;then at the couple of young japanese girls who've not long arrived and sat down to frothy lattes and great slice each of layered cream cake. I make a few notes in that cafe - because it's where I have the idea - about starting my novel in the first person - with the protagonist, who has - under a witness protection scheme - been reassigned a complete new identity - telling us how it feels to having to rote learn an internal history belonging to someone else ; an old friend who you've never known or met - having to let go of you own past(having dementia or a dose of old style ETC would be helpful- the emptyness he feels - like the gap at the end of a shelf vacated by a loaned out library book- awaiting the return...well, something like that..I cant wait to get on with it now; I am almost wetting my pants(well - perhaps that the strong tea I had earlier)....off into town and another Tango lesson at 5pm....so ....later.....
Oh, after about 10 miutes, the caramel girl comes back in and I notice that she's wearing very sexual knee length brown boots. They fit so tightly they seem moulded onto her lower legs.One of the boots has a scratch like an open wound along the top inside edge.She doesnt notice I have noticed this but I look up and understand by the look that Mr Italiano gives me, followed by a flash grin, that he has.
If anyone IS reading this....do chip in with your pennith worth!
BG
Thursday, 22 October 2009
..have now got over the cold that was bugging me over the weekend...Mon and Wed at uni...the course bit thats the horse whip (and sometimes I hope) the carrot to keep me on track with the novel. Yesterdays class was particualrly helpful - character building stuff- I am begining to feel that my original idea of the new ID imigrant street sweeper protagonist fleeing the Balkan conflict story line will work for a novel....have begun scribbling on white cards and have cleared space in my home office for a white board. Then I need to dig up my old /existing notes on Sweeping Up The Village(I may now retitle it as The Man with Burnt Hands)...all will be revealed at a later date - watch out for my novel synopsis which will come by 18th Novemeber.
On my way home last night after class I noted down on a scribble card something that I found moving/striking/intersting ....3 (youngish) unshaven men, well dressed but not enough clothes for the turning weather thats arrived - lying drunk(to blot out!??..they looked Eastern European) in a dishevelled heap in front of the air vent at Angel Tube station . Then it dawned on me that they were there because the warm air blowing out of the station vent was keeping them warm..they had a kind of ironic serene expression of their faces..
then, back at home, I watched "Banged up abroad"on TV and learned about how hostages feel under the threat of execution and ongoing torture..all noted down and potentialy of use somewhere along the line.
Elaine my housekeeper is leaving so I have to go now.
BG
OH, I HAD A NOTHER SHORT STORY ACCEPTED BY TALES OF THE DECONGESTED - they want me to read it at their November event..its "Give &Take" - the piece at wrote and workshoped on the Chroma Queer writers residential recently...thats 3 shorts I've had published within 12 months! Off to not too bad a start then.....
On my way home last night after class I noted down on a scribble card something that I found moving/striking/intersting ....3 (youngish) unshaven men, well dressed but not enough clothes for the turning weather thats arrived - lying drunk(to blot out!??..they looked Eastern European) in a dishevelled heap in front of the air vent at Angel Tube station . Then it dawned on me that they were there because the warm air blowing out of the station vent was keeping them warm..they had a kind of ironic serene expression of their faces..
then, back at home, I watched "Banged up abroad"on TV and learned about how hostages feel under the threat of execution and ongoing torture..all noted down and potentialy of use somewhere along the line.
Elaine my housekeeper is leaving so I have to go now.
BG
OH, I HAD A NOTHER SHORT STORY ACCEPTED BY TALES OF THE DECONGESTED - they want me to read it at their November event..its "Give &Take" - the piece at wrote and workshoped on the Chroma Queer writers residential recently...thats 3 shorts I've had published within 12 months! Off to not too bad a start then.....
Friday, 16 October 2009
week one
Well, got off to a resounding start with a C O L D! which I picked up from my partner who had it earlier this week. Began the day with all good intentions by reading (starting)- The Good Soldier -by Ford Maddox Ford ,but the cold has made me feel larthargic - so - havent got beyond the intro ( which is v good by the way)...need to sort my existing note books/begin posting up ideas on my wall in the office. My little back room hide away. The view from my window is not inspiring - the bathroom sill of next doors flat - with net curtin blowing to and fro above a row of non descript toiletries.BG
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