Françoise is sitting talking to her sister-in-law in a rainy Lyon as I write.
I’m getting used now to just speaking into a microphone and getting any information I require instantly. It is 12° in Lyon, light rain, humidity 83%, wind speed 12 km an hour from the West. I like facts and figures but does it really matter that much? The main thing is that Françoise is having a good time with her family and in her country of birth, France.
I am in full flood writing a new website for the trauma group I have become a part of. I hope the sudden display of creativity will not be traumatic to the team. I find that when I get an idea I can only function at 100 miles an hour – and I would have it no other way. I wonder what purgatory artists go through when they can see the whole picture in their head. They have to find time to eat and sleep which at these junctures can become a nuisance.
I did not sleep last night and got up at 03.30 in the morning, made a late or early coffee depending on your viewpoint, switched on the radio and listened to BBC “from our own correspondent”. I chose this as an alternative to radio five live which was talking about football yet again. I find radio five live one of the best channels because they are so quick on the ball (no pun intended) when news happens. I did send a text message to them about the incredibly profound subject of what to do with food that you drop on the floor, do you pick it up quickly and eat it or declare it and clean and throw it away. I was briefly on the programme for a little bit just before the age clock news one morning having been rang at 625 by a very awake and alive lady from said radio station asking if I wouldn’t mind being on the programme. I said yes on the grounds that I do anything once.
Anyway, I go for the criteria of being sticky. If a toast with marmalade on falls the wrong way up then that goes into the bin straightaway. If dry toast falls on the floor then it is redeemable because in my mind I think it’s not so susceptible to germs.
Anyway I woke up first of all because I didn’t sleep at all and secondly because I had some ideas for the website which I had to complete. I find that if I leave a new idea for a few hours it loses the momentum and excitement and when I respond immediately to an idea it’s a bit like flying, it is not work, it does not drag me down. I sit in front of the computer for too long anyway but a couple of hours can pass in the blink of an eyelid as they say and it’s all been great fun. I also baked a loaf of bread but there is something wrong with the least because it does not rise the way it should do but never mind flour is flour and crunchy solid is better than aerated. If in doubt, toast it.
As with art, I think you just have to do stuff because you think it’s right irrespective of how you think other people might accept it otherwise you become normal because you predicate yourself on the opinions of others and in my view, normality is a disease. Give me an eccentric person any time and they will be far more entertaining because they’re not bothered. Politically Correct people eat your heart out, your are on a loser to nothing. As with arts, as with musical composition, so with writing just write the blessed stuff and get it out of the way.
As for being on my own so to speak that is a technicality. When you have a good relationship with someone and when they are away its like they’re in the next room except of course they don’t make any noise. I think free time is a real gift and I intend to make the most of it until Wednesday evening when Françoise returns. I did not get the urge to go with her, as my readers will know my “travel department” is very reliable but I felt she needed time and space to be with her French speaking French friends and relatives and in a way having me there does alter the vectors somewhat.