Six Days

Sunday 9th December 2012

Good lie in. Woke up at nine. Usually I’d reach for the pen immediately but got to daydreaming about events of the year: the London Trip, how cool it was. Taking pix in Hamleys and M&Ms World. Seeing Karl Marx’s Grave in Highgate Cemetery, the gig at Richmix Jawdance in Shoreditch and ‘BANG! Said the Gun’ the following night. Wouldn’t have seen half as much stuff if Jenni hadn’t been such a good tour guide.

Didn’t go to bed till nearly two this morning. Was still tidying up the aftermath of a day in the office panic. Read a few of David Gaffney’s Sawn Off Tales in bed. All around 150 words. They sound and look like distillations of longer pieces, pared back to give the heart of a situation with much of the bigger picture alluded to, or just out of camera shot.

Another Sunday in my own bed. Jenni was too busy to come over last night. I still have lots to do myself here. This morning I’ll put my York gig set together. Actually, it’s pretty much already done. Just want to trim it down and leave myself room for choice on the night, depending on the audience and what transpires in the open mic. Gonna read a few pieces of Shades of Grey in the middle then kick back with some more performance stuff in the final third and end with Coming Back to This.

Somewhere down the line over the next ten days I should demo tape Boiling kettle and get it nailed for JibbaJabba. This morning I’d like to glue up a copy of ‘Easier Ways’ without stitching. Finances need a look at as well.

My scissors broke last night. Was just about to trim my toenails and one of the plastic handle rings cracked and fell off. Will have to see if the local shop has any. I can cut wrapping paper with a Stanley knife but the blade would make a nasty mess of my feet and scrotum. I might leave this in.

I am looking forward to 2013. I’m keen to be doing bookish stuff for a while. Keen to get my chapbook sorted. Keen to read Gaffney, Hersh, Gluck, Auster, Snider, Armitage and numerous others. Fancy another look at Selby, Bukowski and Michaux. And I want to memorize more of my stuff and read up on current affairs from independent news sources. So many books. Money will be tight for a while. Unless I create more good luck like last year. Must get some Xmas stuff done soon too. Okay, this is what morning pages are really for: clearing out the silt of the mind. 9.41 pm.

Rehearsed till about half two. Have spent much of the time since editing, talking shop and the state of the world. What works in direct conversation doesn’t always make it onto the page. Shaved with a twenty pence blade and didn’t cut myself, not even a rash. When I’ve got all the time in the world I’m a much calmer person. Lazy Sundays I’m pretty good. Rest of the week I’m chasing my tail trying to catch myself before I fall.

House is really warm. Heating has been on so much this evening. Dreading the bill. Fuel bills are about all people can sting me for these days. Most of what I spend money on besides food is a work expense. If I didn’t work, I wouldn’t need to spend. A bit fucking stupid when you think about it. We’re conned into believing we need all the ‘trappings’ – interesting, term, isn’t it? – of the good life to feel good about ourselves. It’s good to be involved in activities that don’t even register with much of the general public. Most people, I’m sure, are very nice pleasant people, but wouldn’t want to spend their energy forming words on a page in hopes of producing something worth committing to memory and reciting to a small gathering of others who do likewise. I don’t own a car. I don’t own a passport. I don’t have a mortgage. I don’t have a credit card. I don’t have kids. I don’t have much besides the house, the bike, the computer and a few cases of books – most of which I wouldn’t lose sleep over parting with should I ever need to downsize in a hurry. And I still consider myself to be very consumerist and indulgent. Greedy for food and free time. But don’t try to sell me your shitty lifestyle, Mr Cold Caller. No interest. I don’t even switch on the tv much anymore. 9.57pm.

Monday 10th December 2012

The postman brings more parcels. Jenni brings them to my bedside and I know one of them is something she’d like and the other two are for me: Helen Ivory/George Szirtes book and two copies of David Gaffney’s book, The Half-Life of Songs. One copy for me and one a thank-you pressie for a colleague. 

This morning I’m having one final run through of the York set for timings and then I’ll be able to just go over it in my head for the next two days. Really looking forward to Wednesday. 9.32 a.m.

Twatting day! Nothing went right. Spent five hours trying to make up a copy of Easier Ways to take to York. Don’t know why it wouldn’t work. Three attempts and I fucked all of them up. Got right down to trimming the last edge of one and it came out shit coz the ruler slipped. Will definitely be investing in a guillotine or bench clamps and a new flat metal ruler.

   I say nothing went right. I got my gig sorted this morning. 25 minutes – 15 poems. Jenni has been on her laptop downstairs while I’ve thrashed about the place trying to make books. I would try to do some more but am really tired. The best way to end a page like this is to say Fuck it all till tomorrow. 9.56 p.m.

Tuesday 11th December 2012

Eyes stinging room boiling heat overwhelming noise of central heating deafening. Stayed up late last night going over poems in files till the small hours, seeing which can be developed, rehearsed and memorized for 2013. Selected 21 pieces, some old, some written over the last twelve months.

Yesterday was frustrating. Couldn’t get anything to go right. Computer on the blink, internet really temperamental these days.

My bed is full of body hair. My head is full of fury, this pen is really scratchy. Sick to fucking death of the bullshit work I’ve had enough bureaucracy for one sodding year. Keep feeling like I’m on a rollercoaster and as much as I want to get off something compels me to stay on. Every obstacle is making me more fucking irritable. I’m not getting enough sleep and I’m not comfortable having to curb my frustration. It’s making me more stressed out which perpetuates the cycle. I fucking hate paperwork. I’m in no mood to assess anybody’s anything. Really fucking tired. Not well, to be honest. 7.37 a.m.

Not the best day I’ve ever had. Woke up feeling really wrecked, really fragile and not wanting to go out and do any sessions or anything. I did the morning pages, but felt really hammered. Didn’t go to sleep till about two in the morning. Up again by half seven. Is it any wonder my nerves are wrecked and I’m having anxiety issues and stress. Will be great to get to the end of work next week. Tonight’s session was okay but I was on poor form. The journey over to Chester le Street wasn’t great. Really anxious, really tired.

This time tomorrow I will be in York with Jenni. Pleased the poems are all ones I’ve pretty much hardwired into my brain otherwise I’d be total shit. Think all I need is a good night’s sleep. Jenni has been sympathetic. I really don’t think I could hack much more without a month off. Will tidy up loose ends then I’m taking at least a week off. Me and Jenni just lazing over Xmas. Really pleased I got through today without cracking.

Right now I’m on the 21 to Newcastle. Going to Kathleen Kenny’s writing group’s performance then just chilling until gig in York tomorrow. Want to get my chapbook made next month and then work through the 21 poems listed last night. Feel much better having got through Mind session ok. 7.28pm.

Wednesday 12th December 2012

All the commuter noise filling the air outside Jenni’s room in Bensham. Stayed here last night after the readings from Kath Kenny’s writing students at the Bridge last night. Some fiction goes over my head but they held my attention. Was able to follow and enjoy most of it.

The room is pretty warm. The heater has been on for an hour and a half. Today me and Jenni are off to York for Speakers’ Corner gig. Jenni has a five minutes open mic slot tonight. I’m doing 25 minutes. Tomorrow she has a feature slot at Pink Lane and I’m doing a cameo on Charlie Crinklepocket. Feel a lot better today than yesterday. Still have lots to do when I get home. Must remember to take books. I’m not a good salesman. Some people can push their stuff well. I just do my thing, say where the poems are published and let people ask if they want copies. Jenni is busy putting clothes away fresh from the dryer. In a little while there’ll be breakfast then a head shave. Think we are going into town early to have a look at some coats that might be suitable choices for Xmas presents. I’m hoping to find something in York. Can’t believe how fast this year has flown over. If I can get some rest over the next couple of weeks I can come back fighting fit for a year of research and editing, workshopping, bike-riding and sporadic gigging. 8.43 a.m.

Thursday 13th December 2012

A good sleep after a long day out. Me and Jenni had a good time in York, wandering round the markets, checking out the nick-nacks, the gift shops, the charity shops, the alternative clothing stores, shops for cat lovers, shops for stationary lovers, second-hand book browsing and top-notch bargains in The Works. Great meal really cheap in a pub called The Keystones and a few rounds of pool afterwards. The gig was great last night at the Tap and Spile. Initially I was a bit concerned that there was an open partition between the Speakers’ Corner room and the main bar. But we soon blotted out the noise from cash tills and customers and zoned in on the spoken word in the little room. Some great stuff being delivered. It was a bit of a Lamplight/Poetry Jam sort of night and I get the sense that these sort of situations are commonplace up and down the country. I love the cabaret type gigs in a darkened room on a spotlit stage but it was a lot easier doing twenty-five minutes in front of the fireplace with people really close. Felt I could get in among them and make it a really intimate performance. It was great to have the opportunity to do a best of set. Ten of the poems were published on the page, the other five were slam pieces and I think the mix of book and bombastic material worked well. I only referred to my notes a couple of times coz I’ve been feeling a bit drowsy the last couple of days but even the page stuff I did mostly from memory. I sold some books and swapped one. I love making books, I like being an author, why not include bookish elements in a long set. Jenni says it didn’t seem like 25 minutes but I reckon it was definitely at least that. Wish I could get more gigs like this. It’s rare to have an open mic night where one feature artist takes up an entire third of the evening’s reading time. I am really grateful for the opportunity. It was a lovely gig and I will be on the lookout for more next year. If a daytrip with some good sightseeing activity can be tied in with the visit it’s worth doing. I like York and it doesn’t take long at all to get there. Will check out some other venues on Write Out Loud. Today I will go home for a few hours and do some paperwork or typesetting. It’s hitting the busy period now: parties, more gigs. Tonight Jenni has a slot at Pink Lane. They always put on whacky nights. I’m doing a little cameo on Charlie Crinklepocket. Then just two more appearances to bring my gig total for 2012 up to seventy five. Which is pretty good going. Okay, lie down a little while longer then I really will have to make a move. 9.12 a.m.

I fell asleep on the bus to Consett, started having a dream but can’t remember a damn thing about it now. In less than an hour I will be in the Jazz Café. Jenni is on the bill and I’m doing a little duet with her. It’s my 73rd public performance this year, equally last year’s total. Why am I so keen to beat my personal best. Been pushing myself hard of late and it’s almost killing me. I could stay at Jenni’s tonight but It’ll mean another day of getting bugger all done and I need to catch up.

X70 from Consett back to Newcastle only three minutes late. Just been in the library to escape a cold wait. Picked up Six Frames for Thinking about Information by Edward De Bono. I’m hoping it’s something to clear my thinking and comprehension coz I’ve been in a fog a lot of the time lately. Also had a flick through Sunset Park by Paul Auster. I would like to get back to reading his work. I have so many books I want to read. No-one could argue that I’m not keen to acquire information, knowledge, experience – it’s just that with so much to choose from and so little time available where do you start?

There’s a woman at the back of the bus, pale yellowy skin, burgundy anorak, brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She is eating salt and vinegar covered chips from a paper cone. They smell absolutely divine. My eyes and nostrils are bigger than my belly. I had cowboy hash for tea. And a sweet mince pie. I am eating way too much food. And I need exercise. Ok. This is enough. Team Valley, Gateshead. 7.22pm.

Friday 14th December 2012

Dream: In the back of some new super cramped mini-link bus with...

Available only in the collection "So Much for the Sunshine" published by Talking Pen 2013

   I wake up on the edge of the bed and Jenni is snoring away next to me. She didn’t come home till six o’clock this morning. I happened to be awake so we chatted for an hour about last night’s gig. It was good but a lot of the audience didn’t get to see much coz the artists, bar a couple were only playing to a small section of the room. Playing in the round is not everyone’s cup of tea but I quite like it. A few things overran and the event didn’t finish till twenty past eleven, hence my sleep over at Jenni’s place. It was good to see On the Spot comedy collective last night. And Scott Tyrrell was on form. Stephen Frizzle’s Xmas rewrites were very funny. Worth staying back for, bud sadly this Xmas special is just a one-off and the gang are only going to do more for special occasions. Seems quite a few events are folding up. 9.29a.m.

  

Typesetting and correspondence since I got home this morning then food shopping and some time out to watch a documentary called Unlawful Killing about the death of Diana Spencer which was quite interesting. Saw a really great youtube clip this evening of Kim Wilde doing an acoustic version of her eighties hit Kids in America on a London Underground train during evening rush hour. Bizarre and brilliant at the same time. Good of her to do it and cool that someone videoed it and uploaded it to the net. Listened to Black Flag’s My War album on Spotify and now have Kate Bush’s The Sensual World on as I type this. A copy of David Gaffney’s book Aromabingo was on the mat when I got back this morning. I’m looking forward to some good flash fiction sessions over the winter break. It took me eighteen minutes to type up 423 words tonight. That’s pretty shit, given that I’ve been using typewriters for over twenty three years. I am pleased to be coming to the end of my big journaling sessions. Next year is going to be a breeze. Edit, work on poems, rehearse, read new books, ride my bike. Do gigs in front of new and varied audiences wherever possible. Ok. 10.24pm.