More house clearing for Xmas. Time to dust the skulls
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I still can’t talk about what I’ve been doing or where I’ve been, really, so here’s a shot from the location the show was rehearsing at today. I’ve been a Consulting Producer to a tv show you’ll see in 2021 for the last seven weeks. This has been a very different kind of writing job for me, and later I will attempt to unpack and process the many things I’ve learned. For now, I am simply grateful to the friends old and new who asked me to come in and worked with me and put up with my bullshit for seven weeks. It was a really good time. Even though I complained constantly about having to get up in the mornings.
I will miss my friends, and, if any of you see this: thank you, again, for everything.
G’night.
En route to last day on the offsite job. I will miss the people and the work, but I will not miss the 830am wake up calls.
The consensus – in what I suppose we could call psychological archaeology – seems to be that Homo neanderthalensis was painfully rational, and Homo sapiens was batshit crazy.
THE HERO, Lee Child
- Please for the love of Blarg, Start a Blog – Jay Springett fucking brings it (thanks for the mention, Jay) (ignore that I mentioned it, read it, he talks about things I think are essential for the health of the online sphere)
- Alice Oswald: ‘I like the way that the death of one thing is the beginning of something else’ | Books | The Guardian
Remember that time in the early 80s when Kate Bush, the BBC Radiophonic Workshop and Cranes collaborated on a Christmas song for a Doctor Who episode where everyone was heartbroken and lost in an infinite snowdrift on a planet that orbited the afterlife? Well, that’s because it never happened, but this is the fugue delusion I sank into on the fourth replay of this wonderful little winter piece by Jodie Lowther, currently available as a free/pay-what-you-want stream/download. Lovely sound to come home to.
I heard the marvellous Gazelle Twin record when it came out, but somehow spaced on buying a copy. Rectified. A good day to revisit it. Clara Engel describes their work as “minimalist holy blues / crepuscular hymns,” and these cold ruminations will fit the day just as well.
