today's breakfast (apple and melon chunks with cinnamon and a drizzle of lemon juice) and a freshly squeezed mandarine (the last of the winter), as well as some lunches/ suppers of recent times; fair, organic, healthy, fresh, seasonal and delicious. sharing...
another busy, interesting and social weekend awaits and i must have the windscreen (the crack is moving to my left and it's dangerously glistening) AND the driver's window (stuck, suddenly) fixed.
i'll try to go to sleep, before the day breaks:
'go to bed', i wrote 'you go to bed', she wrote 'or come to bed with me'... now, that is an idea and possibly the remedy, too.
... and the best i can do (and perhaps all of us, especially the ones, who will allow themselves to feel it, without considering themselves silly and/ or too intense) is to experience it as calmly and in good anticipating manner as possible... hmmm...
tricky... changes and upheaval explosive and surprising positive
queen Bees on friday was purple and good fun; the music was good, as i want it; kate played some blinding tunes and very well thought out and nicole indulged happily into an array of genres and timescales... we danced... we played with the purple balloons, we ate the heart shaped chocolate, we stuck glitter on our faces and we had dabs of pure lavender perfume on our bodies... we watched maria's fabulous shorts and animations (i asked her to do it as a send off - she's off to sweden for an animation course she's been accepted in and as sweet as she is and talented and a good friend; we share love pains and grains together; she said yes)... sophie, yet again, documented these moments with zeal and passion (so grateful to her for taking the photographs for the third time)... new faces mingled with the old and the aircon hepled us breath in the freshly painted black basement...
proloque; book lauch, performances and ideas spilled in the narrow built georgian 4 storey house in king's cross; great building and the obscurity and richness of work suited it fine. at peckham with pia later for wine, chips, half a veggie burger and a good natter
speakeasy at the arcola theatre for jet's spoken word fest; missed iris, but got the rest on queer, trans, babies, football, tabloid and the general socio- political- gender - queer effort and understanding to be a person. fun and clever.
chat with sophie in the car outside the joiners; i lasted 10 minutes, a coke and a cigarette, i was bored, but also, joiners reminds me of different kinds of episodes, which despite their ridiculousness, i recall them fondly...
something's good is cooking... i have been saying for a while...
post - dream effects, remembering a good moment, selfridges outstanding window displays, with spot on words/ messages (as long as i deconstruct them to my advantage and direction)... the yearning though is especially strong, today/ tonight/ now...
i fell asleep with the lights on, my clothes on, my bangles still around my wrist, my hair up... and i dreamt of her... it was so soft and lovely, predicting... it is happily haunting me now... she finally put her arms around me as she said she would and i touched her... we kissed... i woke up...
... is nothing, however, there is a little twitch in my heart and a small time travelling in my head... it's ok to feel... good to remember, perfect to hope...
friday found me in the southbank, around the nft and hayward gallery being filmed as a genius/ mad scientist, who is working passionately on a formula, which will change the future... film noir, sci - fi short, devised by sarah baker and anthony gross for the architectural association crash editing course they are teaching at. i was asked to play myself, dressed as i do, playing with androgyny and style. it is rather challenging playing yourself with someone else's idea; out of the comfort zone; you are pushed to push it... i really enjoyed it and got into it quite quickly; throwing formula papers around, smoking, writing, thinking, walking off, around, in...
i'm writing some words for it now...
on saturday, there was art at the chisenhale gallery, called 27 senses, which included performances, mixed media installations, drawings and film, unchilled white wine, photographing friends and moments on the hipsta, a drive to the turkish for some falafel, a visit to vor's for some better red wine and pasta and the attendance of a warehouse party, which was too big, too sweaty, too straight, with an ex impassing, but felt nothing! some elements were good, an act and all of us together dancing, making the best of it all, via smoking intervals in the open space for chats and some air...
sunday was the last day for lovebox music festival in victoria park. i decided to indulge, because i have plenty of free time (at the moment) and i suppose, it's always good to experience new things at least once (i always disagreed paying for a festival in a park in your own city, but alas...). it was a beautiful, sunny and hot day; perfect for it.
i saw hot chip, djing and performing and i decided that they are good. too much hype in a new band creates the opposite effect on me (let me decide for myself media, thank you very much and i detest crowd mentality). hercules and love affair, who are darlings and fresh and really really friendly. feral, who was excellent and deserved another song. peaches, who i am going to write a small review on her show; re: style, subservience, music, shock factor; still thinking about this one, which i suppose it is a good thing. grace jones... what an amazing woman, personae, performer... the syle, the energy, the attitude... she's got it, she can do it and she continues to colour queen Bees beautifully with her images and to inspire with her music... nice. i saw friends and that was good and some enemies, too. photographs were taken. food was eaten. a glass of wine and lots of water. lots of walking around. thinking. refusing to be sad, but slightly melancolic. active and alive. love.
i rounded the night up with a spot of horse meat disco; i love these boys and the disco, too.
i drove home with some kind of satisfaction... knowing that sleeping will be a thing of a later hour...
10 july was my deadline i wanted to show it at dick and fanny for the first time. silent. image and words only. i made it happen. it looked good. i had interesting feed back. it's real. autobiographical. of course. collecting experiences. understanding. loving more. i miss one opinion. one pair of eyes. one critque. i've decided to continue this piece and make it a triptych, without predicting and/ or assuming the outcome; just (still) feeling it; just (still) taking it futher; still...
