‘Sally on Sunday’ (c) T. Bush
On Monday, the remnants of the guests staggered blearily off to catch trains and buses and I took out the last bag of rubbish and by Tuesday I wanted everyone to come back again.
Post party depression they call it.
On the train home from London yesterday the evening sky was moody blue and punch drunk with early summer storms. I was feeling sad and shy, evading the commuter’s incurious cow like gaze behind my dark glasses and wondering, as always when I feel so scared by my overindulgent English spinsterhood, if there was anywhere in the world I might actually be of use.
What if I used my birthday money (supposedly set aside for my dental surgery) and jumped ship to join forces with some romantic cause like the dark Lord Byron, Che, Lorca, Sampson or Sacajawarea …you won’t have heard of the last two..they’re a chicks and we know most history was written by men; some with remarkably small penii and huge imaginations..(The Trojan army was HOW big?)
What can I really offer with no technical skills and no languages? Would I be useful getting a flight to Tehran and offering hugging ‘aww let it all out’ services to the Guardians in the hope that they suddenly feel less uptight and nuclear and more prepared to chat about it all. Or a quick dash across the border to North Korea to see if there is anyone in the militia who want to try permaculture, sustainable living and local trading systems. It’s really very good for drought proof vegetables. .
Anyway – just so you know I got for my birthday – amongst other marvellous things from jewellery to paella pans, sunflowers, martini glasses and Buddhist prayer bead – a subscription to a ‘blog redecoration service’. They are going to help make my blog site funky and more enticing which is a good thing because you may have noticed I have been slacking off badly and indeed was thinking of pulling the plug – this will be the much needed ‘re-boot in the behind’ to get me writing consistently again! It may take a few weeks but please do let me know what you think!
Also before I go to closing party photos – do check out ‘Siren Voices’. http://sirenvoices.blogspot.com He is a paramedic who writes up his strange encounters with such tender, mesmerising prose his blog quickly becomes addictive. Real modest, melancholy genius.
And lastly farewell to the deeply troubled, brilliant and tragic Mr. Jackson. My childhood would have been strangely empty without some of your music.