cold harbour

i am looking up houses to let in hastings, and short courses i could do if i lived there, ones about community development and pattern cutting. i could run away now, fuck all this and go be a provincial liberal kook with no qualifications... i could look at the sea every day. i could. i could.

i have only eaten sweets today but some of them were cantonese macaroons pink lychee and raspberry, yellow lemon and cashew, green lime and green tea and white (like a cloud sublimating [idiot]in your mouth) pistachio and coconut they came in a box that looked like it should have jewellery in it, i love it when sharif visits, my toes could taste those babies.

i have at least managed to wean myself off soul-dulling, tooth itchingly m.o.r glastonbury message boards. they are an absolute insult to the festival and i am ashamed of myself.

my hair won't seem to be red.

it is raining. from my window you can smell wet car fumes which seems somehow wholesome and comforting. london is getting into parts of my brain i never told it it could.

i am absolutely, utterly freaking out.

in a seminar last week tina reminded me about that dot matrix paper that my dad (and possibly all dads) used to bring home in the eighties for small me to draw on. and it had bits of codey dads job wierdness on one side and i used to just draw over the top of it and it made me so happy when she said it cos i'd forgotten all about it but that is e x a c t l y what i mean by this work. ..

. ..somehow. among other things...