| Northwards |
[12th Nov. 2009 | 10:21pm] |
| [ | Soundtrack |
| | 'New Testament Canticle' - Edward Cuthbert Bairstow | ] |
Having a day off, I decided to put aside any plans for cartooning & took a trip to Liverpool. I managed to get myself up early enough to catch a train before 10am, and met my father in Lime Street Station a little after midday. (A plan made on the train, for I'd originally imagined a day alone & an evening meet-up; but it's a good thing to have company, anyway.) After a lovely meal & a bit of red wine in the brasserie of the Liner Hotel (pasta, which I almost never choose when eating out), we went along to see what I'd made the long trip for - Apichatpong Weerasethakul's multimedia exhibition 'Primitive': "a multiple-screen video installation, a music video, a short film for cinema, an online film and an artist's book." It's rather good; initially I wasn't too taken with it, but I spent a good 90 minutes in the little world (spread across two gallery rooms), and found myself rather immersed and reluctant to leave. Perhaps I'll describe it all in some detail in a further entry (yeah, like I always keep to those little LJ promises...).
After that, evening was coming and I wanted to go to evensong at the Metropolitan Cathedral; we tracked over & found that it was an hour away. Light refreshment at the Philharmonic, and then to the little service; only three others in attendance, a smaller congregation than there were choristers! The music was very stirring, although following the prayer responses felt quite odd after having been away from Catholic church services for over a decade. (I also sensed a little awkwardness from Dad, with whom I share similar instincts when it comes to faith: too sceptical to go to Mass, too ambivalent to call oneself 'agnostic'.) Dinner in the Wetherspoons near the pater's place in Urmston.
It's good to take a little time away from the usual surroundings - many new ideas, fresh perspectives on the old ones, etc. After an evening of talking to Sarah about future plans, a day in the city has given me more resolve about using the remaining time in Cheltenham to set the ground-work for the life afterwards - the glory days, hopefully. I like Liverpool: many interesting galleries & shops, a busy nightlife, pretty faces. I could live there.
Readying for bed soon; he keeps this place like a sauna! Window open... Sign off: 10:21pm |
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|
| The Move, and such |
[8th Nov. 2009 | 01:52pm] |
| [ | Soundtrack |
| | Lisa Mitchell - 'Coin Laundry' | ] |
Back in Telford for the weekend. We're finally moving my personal possessions to Flat 1 - i.e. everything that isn't clothes, toiletries & other bare essentials. This shall consist of books, DVDs & other cultural artifacts, roughs & notes for stories, a duvet (finally), perhaps a few pilfered kitchen utensils, & a few music-making items. I say "shall", because I am still in my dressing gown & yet to have moved a finger towards packing this stuff away. Afer all this, I can finally make my space in Cheltenham into something like a nest conducive to creativity, as is necessary. Might finally draw again.
Last night, Lucy took me along to see Lisa Mitchell at the new 02 Academy3 in Birmingham. (I pay my way for gigs these days, as I have two jobs & thus, no excuse not to.) I became aware of her when I used to pay attention to television commercials* - her song 'Neopolitan Dreams' was the soundtrack to a Surf advert - and since I've been curious about hearing an album. It was a chance thing, because I hadn't come down to Telford with any other plans than getting my stuff together (see above). It was a really lovely show. She began a little nervously - not affecting her performance, though - and seemed to become increasingly confident. It was her first-ever headline concert in Britain. We spoke to her a little afterwards. Lucy had a tea towel signed & I complimented her shoes - Vivienne Westwood, apparently.
She's only nineteen... How much time I've been wasting! I remember when Patrick Wolf came onto the scene; he was nineteen, while I was sixteen & anticipating the release of Lycanthropy. Now the wunderkinds are younger than me, and I'm old enough to forget my age: when someone asked the other day, Graz had to remind me that I'd aged another year. Sign off: 2.15pm
P.S. Did I forget to mention that Lisa Mitchell is very pretty? She is very pretty. And the clothes are good, too.
* The odd few have some good qualities, such as the fact that Baz Luhrmann's ads for the Australian tourist board which represent about the only interesting thing he's done... I don't really bother to care for them anymore, as I don't have quite as much time as I had back in my 'year of leisure'. |
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| Lost Words |
[19th Oct. 2009 | 10:22pm] |
| [ | Adjective |
| |  exanimate | ] |
I prefer to use Notepad for my mindless word processing - I like how the uniform text looks like cold data rather than the inevitable DTP feel of Microsoft Word. However, after an hour (or less, probably) of playing about with some sentences, I dropped my hand-me-down laptop carelessly and - crash! The helplessness of the immutable, frozen windows... Although, not much is really lost; why am I still writing notes on the topic of my dissertation? Should I return to academia?
The only days-off for the last three weeks have been for advance plans; tomorrow is blissful emptiness, a lie-in, perhaps visiting the old campus, reproducing a poster for some last-minute promotion of Friday's gig. I only made mention of it to my manager today, the first time I've intervened in the gradual acceptance of full-time commitment at the new job* - partly after the suggestions of friends, as well as the fact that I still feel a little tired from Saturday night - David's 23rd birthday in Birmingham. (I'm trying to move against the desire to detail the minutiae of my social life on the internet, as I've only done so as a remedy for personal oblivion.) Sign off: 22.59pm
* I may still be obsessed with the theory of agency in videogames (and the conceptual problem of human interaction with cultural artifacts) because it has informed my vision of life: when we were moving Liam's belongings out of the old place, for the move to Flat 1, I watched other people giving up a weekend, labouring to bring about the product of a decision that was largely due to my intervention. I was stood in the empty living room of the place I'd lived for a year, & Liam for a subsequent second, observing the movements of these beings - activity that I had caused - and felt a sense of agency. (It is an uncommon feeling for me, and it was probably the first I'd left such a weight of my own decisions since the start of my university education.) Since my departure I'd lived for a year in a state of gradual deceleration, and eventually found myself needing to make a small change to regain rhythm. I can see my creative spirit like the avatar in Sonic the Hedgehog, who left untended will begin to whistle impatiently, hands on hips, looking out at you - the gamer - waiting for any command to further the adventure. |
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|
| No swear words or references to Richard Gere |
[12th Oct. 2009 | 08:20pm] |
Chris took me along to see Zombieland, for free, last night. Other than having seen a little reproduction of the poster I had no prior knowledge of what to expect. The opening sequences were very unpromising, setting it up to be something like a weak American spoof aping the manner of Shaun of the Dead, or worse, another dreadful 'Genre-Parody Movie' (like those by the Wayans Brothers). However, it gradually improved & I found myself quite entertained by it - although I didn't find it terribly funny, like the people behind us who were guffawing from the outset. The romantic scene between the two young-adult stars was also surprisingly tender, for all its triteness. (The four stars are a good bunch - Jesse Eisenberg, who is finding himself typecast very early into his career; Abigail Breslin, the star of Little Miss Sunshine; Woody Harrelson, no notes required; & Emma Stone, who I happened to have read about in an interview in the Metro a few days ago - perhaps the best part for us late-adolescents...)
Mostly working in the stockroom over the past two weeks. On Friday, Decadence in Berlin were a part of the Friday Night Gerbil, a programme on BBC Radio Shropshire. There was a fun interview, & a set of three songs, after a number of technical difficulties. Unfortunately the problems with the sound conspired to make it a pretty poor performance, but it was a good experience. Afterwards, me & Graham did our usual two-for-one pizza thing, and had a 'swift one' at the newly reopened Duke of York pub. I spent the early hours & the next afternoon on the internet, before finally making it over to Telford Central train station. It was twilight when I set off, & I forgot how dodgy the local area can seem in the evening - especially walking alone through tree-flanked pathways & underpasses. I read some more of the Chikamatsu volume on the way, & was in the Cheltenham town centre in time to meet friends for drinks at 9.30pm. (No fears walking through secluded areas in this town!) It turned into a heavier night than anticipated, going on to Slak & waking for a Sunday shift at the café still feeling a little tipsy. Things went well enough, and after tips I made a good amount for four hours work.
Library is closing in a few minutes. Sign off: 8.45pm |
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| Work & Form |
[28th Sep. 2009 | 07:32pm] |
| [ | Soundtrack |
| | Radio 1 at work, unfortunately - Paramore, Pixie Lott etc. | ] |
Writing of my boring job too often will inevitably result in a boring reading experience, so I'll say as little of it as possible. Last night I had another of my (recently) regular 'shallow-state' sleeping experiences, in which I awake into a semi-conscious state an hour or two before my alarm sounds, without opening my eyes, flitting between half-dreams and tired frustration. Today was an average full day's shift. I spent the duration sorting out crates of children's clothes. As I set into the mechanical effort of removing the items from their cellophane wrappings, I kept my mind active in the notion that this monotony is penance for my months (or years, some might say) of inactivity, repaying my debts to the economy of human labour. It's a quirk of my nature that even in a phase of my development in which I find my mind's reason overriding the heart's desires with ever-increasing frequency, moved more than ever towards a reluctant agnosticism, there is still an arching religiosity to my vision of life.
Lucy came to visit over the weekend. (On Friday I'd had my first day as the solitary waiter at my 'other' workplace, and on Saturday I was alone until Graz arrived back from Bath after having spent the previous day photographing a friend's wedding.) She brought over many gifts for my birthday, all items of clothing. Many good things. We had a quiet evening of it, as Lucy was rather tired. As the television's picture has ceased to function in Flat 1, we couldn't watch our rented DVD, and so spent the hours after a nice Chinese takeaway from down the road discussing Lucy's current state in Telford (she is quite lonely, feels somewhat trapped in Telford & does not know what to 'do with her life'). She retired before midnight, and I stayed up a little later picking at a few books I picked up from Moss Books earlier in the day. After the next day's work, we went to Nandos (as is Lucy's usual preference) for dinner, where I slathered 'Extra Extra Hot Peri Peri Sauce' on my veggie pitta. A walk in town, including streets new to both of us, after which she departed.
I think I'll feel more inclined towards reading now that the TV is not working. This is a good thing. As mentioned above, I picked up some interesting items at the weekend - at secondhand bookshops I feel free to purchase on a whim when something about a volume, often spied by chance, seems compelling for any reason: finally picked up Eco's The Name of the Rose & Borges' Fictions (I've read through the first five stories of the latter, quite intrigued but find most of the symbolism lost in my ignorance), discovered Shusaku Endo & Chikamatsu (bought The Girl I Left Behind & Four Major Plays respectively) as well as Charles Wright's Black Zodiac (the only one of the lot that I think isn't to my taste).
Especially interesting to me is the Chikamatsu volume: I wasn't aware of him before the spine caught my eye amongst the overstuffed shelves, and his work seems very interesting. I've only read the introductory materials, but they alone are worth the price of the book, giving some fascinating background information on the development of Japanese drama, especially on how the playwright found his poetry's greatest expression through the peculiar qualities of bunraki (puppet theatre). This appeals to my interest in how medium dictates form, and form consequently affects content. I'd like to see my life venture into the use of many mediums for expressing my ideas - and more specifically, creating works of art. As a visual thinker (or perhaps more broadly an 'aesthetic thinker') I'm inclined to prize form over content, and hence find exploring different mediums, if only in my thoughts, a valuable aide to understanding the peculiarities of existing art-forms & the means of human communication through the arts. (Another peculiarly Japanese medium I have recently become aware of is kamishibai, 'paper drama', a form of pictorial performance practised by itinerant storytellers before the ubiquity of television. I found a wonderful monograph on the subject in the Magma store of Manchester, only a few days after its release, which I intend to acquire soon.)
I've been very curious about the use of DVD-Video technology as a medium for interactive narrative in the past months. I've acquired a couple of examples (Tender Loving Care, which I have experienced in full & enjoyed, and I'm Your Man, as yet unplayed), and intend to get hold of a few more so as to become more thoroughly acquainted with the form. Maybe I'll get back to reading comics sometime in the near future... Sign off: 8.25pm |
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|
| A Working Man |
[21st Sep. 2009 | 06:40pm] |
Friday was my first 'long shift' at the new job, 7½ hours of work broken up with an hour's lunch & a half-hour break. Certainly the most agreeable of my shifts so far, chatting with a new face & gradually recovering from my lack-of-sleep & sniffles, moving into an unexpected euphoria as I made my way to Tesco afterwards, buying my part of the provisions for the night-in at Chris & Graz's place (which I shall henceforth refer to as 'Flat 8', I think, for a monicker less cumbersome). With a little rose winé & a stately cheeseboard (brie, Wensleydale, goat's cheese, cheddar, caramelised carrot chutney, grapes & crackers - with a little slice of Dairylea that Graz threw in for a little side-whimsy), we settled in to watch the second of the Derren Brown 'Events', the national 'hypnotism', and the inaugural episode of the sixth series of Peep Show. We weren't affected (in the intented manner) by Brown, although Chris upset Graz by giggling during the hypnotic film - the result of which was that we had to watch the Four+1 showing to appease her (at which we remained sober & attentive, and still experienced nothing). Peep Show seemed to begin rather oddly, a lot of the humour being far drier than usual, which didn't seem to sit with the usual ludicrousness of the plotlines. However, the second half quickly spiralled into a mania both pleasingly familiar & yet more shocking than ever before. Very funny.
David came to visit on Saturday evening, and after a trip to the off-license we 'warmed-up' perhaps a little too enthusiastically, as by the time Chris came over to join us (me, Dave & Graz) over at Flat 1 (henceforth, the term for my new flat in Cheltenham), it looked as though David would not be in a fit state to leave the safety of the house (for a while I feared that he would not even get up from the bathroom floor). Eventually we made our way over to Slak & had a good night of it. Set the alarm for 10am to leave David enough time to wake up (he had to leave before midday). Following on the tradition of his previous visit to Cheltenham, watched a Schwarzenegger flick (Raw Deal) from Liam's box-set, after which he headed home.
At work today, I had the idea that I might not call my future band 'Pygmy King & his Cheap Novelty Orchestra', but the rather more punk 'Pygmy King & the Opportunists'. It's certainly easier to remember... But I've got to complete some of this new Pygmy King material before I can think of getting a live band going.
(Some idiot two machines away is receiving constant, loud text message alerts. This is a library, kids! Make use of the 'Silent' function...)
Also, I was happy to see Gareth's revival of The Cabaret Formerly Known as Bucket received a positive review/summary, in which my small part as the Ofsted Inspector (the "puritanical protester" of the penultimate paragraph), based on a script by Gareth which I delivered with a somewhat jittery, fragmented performance, is mentioned. Sign off: 7.23pm |
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|
| Back in Gloucestershire |
[17th Sep. 2009 | 04:54pm] |
| [ | Adjective |
| |  cheerful | ] |
Yesterday I turned twenty-three years old. As I've been mentioning to everyone who brought up the topic in the weeks preceding the annual event, I think it's the first time that I've not felt any excitement about becoming another year older. Quite the opposite. I've always found birthdays a curious mix of disappointment & surprising thoughtfulness, and this year followed through on both - more so on the latter. I woke up to cards from family members (cash/cheques in all!) & birthday greetings through SMS messages. My third shift at my new job (stockroom assistant for a high street fashion chain) went along easily enough, and I returned to the flat to find a box of little gifts & cards from Siân, Dave & Mike. A lovely surprise. I only have two close friends in town at the moment, but we made a good night of it by having a few drinks at the pleasantly bourgeois Après (at which Chris brought along my presents, including a cafetiere: they didn't know I'd wanted one for years) before moving on to an Indian restaurant. I already had a bit of a buzz, and following my share of a bottle of house red & the post-meal drinks & smoking at the guys' flat, I ended the night with a pleasing level of intoxication & satisfaction.
Since I last updated this journal, I've moved back to Cheltenham. I decided to help myself & Dan by paying for the last month's rent on the old Pittville place, and moved in for the last two-thirds of August. After much vacillating, I decided to stay in the town despite the fact that I didn't have a job - me & Liam worked out that I could afford the consequences of a six-month 'worst case scenario' - and so the next day I went about looking for a cheaper flat. The day following that was one of the busiest of my life, having organised a number of viewings with different letting agents, as well as having an interview that, in three hours, begat an offer of work. After having a nice place on the High Street snapped from our reach by a rival offer, we settled on a place in the St. Paul's area (around the corner from Kalyra, my home during the second year of university) with a letting agency who was optimistic about being able to get through the paperwork before the 'deadline': we had to leave the old place within a week. They managed to get through all of our contracts, references, guarantors etc. in seemingly record time, and on the last weekend of August Liam's parents came to town, and with their help (and that of friends) we moved to our new home.
Today is my first day free of work since last Friday. I went down to the weekly market to pick up a load of fruit for the week - the first of my small moves towards improving the healthiness of my lifestyle. Yesterday, I remembered that my birthday is around the time that autumn officially settles into its quiet reign (no pun intended) in our fair isle. Some Googling has taught me that many seem to consider this year's transition from August to September as having marked the start of the season in this country, and since Tuesday I've had people mentioning the palpable cooling of the climate. Although I've noticed it in the mornings, today was the first day that I felt the full freshness of the new season, taking a scenic route to the old campus (still using the library for internet access!), feeling the pleasure of my walk disturbed a little by the prevalence of dogs, before moving across my favourite stretch of Pittville Park, the large open lawn approaching the Pump Room - the great trees backed by the gesso-flatness of the white sky. Sign off: 5.45pm |
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| The Walls in this Hotel are Pixel-Thin |
[5th Aug. 2009 | 10:45am] |
What do most people do after drinks, alone & tipsy at home? Consider contacting a former lover? Make some clumsy statements on social networking websites? All I'd say is: certainly not bid on eleven different graphic adventure games on eBay, most of which are for a PC that one has yet to purchase. I was immediately outbid on two of them, so that's okay. I also purchased an interactive movie DVD on Amazon... Oh well, this is stuff I've been curious about for a while, so at least it's not superfluous hoarding ~ like the drunk character in that story I never wrote, who purchased all the useless consumer goods through internet auctions & teleshopping in his nightly inebriation.
Finally got round to completing Hotel Dusk: Room 215 a couple of days ago. When I loaded up the saved game, it read that I hadn't played since November! I became stuck on a coin puzzle that required a bit of lateral thinking. As I recall, I brought the coin formation to the kitchen table and my grandma & I stratched our heads over it for a while, before my uncle walked through & solved it almost instantaneously. So, for nearly three-quarters of a year, the puzzle has been waiting to be solved. After that, the puzzles gave way to an even greater narrative predominance (not a bad thing in my book ~ I prefer the narrative & aesthetic elements to crafty puzzle design), and I completed the game in a couple of sittings. Overall, I got about 16 or 17 hours of gameplay, making it about three times longer than Cing's previous DS adventure, Another Code. I think I preferred Hotel Dusk; Another Code has a nice tender, melancholic feel to it, but Hotel Dusk has lots of character interaction (and interesting characters, too), a good balance between serious sleuthing & jocular levity, and more idiosyncratic art direction (scratchy rotoscoped figures). I'm looking forward to the arrival of another internet acquisition, the Wii sequel to Another Code. Of course, one doesn't want a developer to exploit their IPs to the point of franchise, but I'd like to see Kyle Hyde (HD protagonist) get the Wii treatment.
Some chap just brought round some art folders I bought from him on eBay. One was listed as A1 size, which it isn't. I'd wanted to use it to store my large life drawing sheets which are currently in rolls about the house, getting more knackered & smudged every day before I properly store them. Oh well, eleven quid down the pan... I'll have to find some other use for them. Admittedly, one is a nice A3 ring-binder, which I could use as a portfolio. Always good to have a portfolio.
Watched Gosford Park the other day, very much enjoyed it. I'm warming to Altman. The direction is virtuosic: the movements of the actors choreographed so elegantly. Lots of great British talent in this one, as well. Also watched the first Merchant-Ivory collaboration, The Householder, a wonderful little film. Alongside the thematic stance on love & family, I found the spiritual meditations of the Swami quite affecting: the story of the householder who left his family to follow the light in the forest, only to turn back knowing that it wasn't his time to leave the world of man, if ever. Sign off: 11.30am |
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| The Stuff of a Long Weekend |
[20th Jul. 2009 | 12:22pm] |
On Friday I went to see the Rufus Wainwright opera, Prima Donna, with Gareth. I had many hours to get ready, and yet I still left my preparations late enough to have to power-walk to the station to catch the correct train. I missed the ideal connection by a few minutes & managed to arrive in Manchester an hour later than planned. (I forgot that it's much quicker to change in Wolverhampton... Dolt that I am.) We ate at Subway to save time before making it to the performance. Our view of the action was relatively good considering the cheapness of our tickets (each less than double the price of a cinema ticket), although the higher parts of the set were blocked from view by the upper tier. (This didn't detract much: we only missed a few moments of performance when the staff of the titular prima donna spied on her conversation from a balcony.) It was a really wonderful show ~ a lot of harmonic ideas similar to Wainwright's pop songs, and yet classically Romantic in its traditional melodic structure. I found the finale a little underwhelming, but overall I was very impressed. This premiere production was also a great work of theatre, with vibrant lighting design and really inventive moving sets. I hope they recorded one of the performances, for broadcast or release on home video.
After having barely recovered from a sudden attack of hayfever in the night (I'd done well to avoid it this summer... but suddenly, swollen eyes...), I went along with Gareth to a Bach recital, another event part of the Manchester International festival. I started to feel better through the performance, and after refreshment on the train I feel somewhat ready to face the third annual P-Fest. (I had a nice ride feeling bright & reading St. Augustine, sadly interrupted when some idiot sat at an adjacent table started to whisper the words to the nu-metal songs he was listening on his MP3 player. Last connection was agreeable.) I quickly knocked together a priest outfit & made it to Moreton before eight. Drinks, dancing, &c. I didn't rate our set very highly, but friends & Max's dad (whose birthday the P-Fest celebrates) enjoyed it. I barely slept at all thanks to Lucy & Cat (who is now engaged to my good friend Max) playing music at top volume through the PA system until five in the morning. I was really seething with agitation for various reasons, but thankfully I kept schtum. I broke Graham's car-key the night before and so he & Lucy travelled to Trench early and came back to Moreton before we set off to Hadley for a little festival-like family-friendly event. The set-up was good, but unfortunately the weather hovered just above dismal & not many people turned up due to poor promotion on the part of the large school at which the event was hosted. We played an average set & had a decent day of it. Fell asleep before midnight & slept for more than 11 hours, only to wake up this morning feeling lethargic! It's rock 'n' roll, kids... Sign off: 12.59pm |
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| Comix Production |
[15th Jul. 2009 | 12:45pm] |
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I started producing a strip using a familiar cartoon character yesterday, with a view towards making a submission to one of the few remaining institutions of the grand tradition of British kids' cartooning. I've made that pretty unambiguous, but there's a tiny bit of superstition in me that steers me from direct naming. It's the first time I've done any 'proper' drawing since Flyboy, which I last touched in March. A third of a year avoiding the activity that I worked towards for the last four years of my education... Dreadful! But I'll try to keep it up for good, now. Maybe one day I'll have the freedom for my own endeavours; I draw great inspiration from Craig Thompson's blog, which he occasionally updates with previews from his current work, and beautiful doodles that supercede the finished work of most draughtsman. He's recently finished the second act (of three) of his forthcoming graphic novel, Habibi, which is looking to be fabulous. Sign off: 12.54pm |
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| Postponement |
[13th Jul. 2009 | 03:17pm] |
| [ | Soundtrack |
| | 'Add It Up' - Violent Femmes | ] |
It seems that due to some 'unforeseen circumstances' over in Cheltenham, the move is being put off for a few weeks. But it's still happening! Things to do whilst in Telford:
- Draw some comics pages for freelance submissions (remember when I used to do that?)
- Produce script & storyboards for the short film (GT#1: Death & the Estates)
- Plan for building of the new computer
- Clear the Sky+ box of my backlog of films
Yesterday I managed to wake up refreshed after a good night's sleep (after cancelling the previous day's plans due to lethargy-induced grumpiness), but with nothing to do I watched three films: Whisky, Dumplings and Glue. The first one was a pleasant surprise - I came to it with no expectations & it turned out to be a wonderful little film. It's a spare, dry comedy from Uruguay. The director gave thanks to Jimmy Corrigan, the Smartest Kid on Earth & Aki Kaurismaki in the credits. It's redolent of both: although I noticed the Kaurismakian flavour throughout, I didn't expect to see one of the great graphic novels given its due deference by a foreign filmmaker. Dumplings was disappointing, being that it was shot by Chris Doyle & grew out of an international project that also included the work of Takashi Miike. Glue was a decent low-budget debut from Argentina, spinning a watchable feature out of the common 'coming-of-age' & 'boy-boy-girl' conventions. It was shot in DV with Super 8 segments, appropriately lo-fi.
Between the first & second movies I found time to go to Coalport for a drink & meal with Lucy & friends. Another relaxed, unproductive day. Sign off: 3.37pm |
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| Towns that Aren't Telford |
[10th Jul. 2009 | 11:49am] |
Last weekend was something of a 'trilemma', having the option of going to Amsterdam with pals, grabbing a free ticket to the Hop Farm Festival or celebrating Graz's birthday in Cheltenham. Of course, a classic case of Sod's damned legislation, being that I have many weekends that I spend alone, in my dressing gown, watching American TV dramas and Bergman films on Sky. There was a scheduling problem with regards to my dole meeting, and so Amsterdam was quickly thrown out as a viable option; and, as inebriated football fans have it, "at the end of the day" my priorities had to lie with my friends. Off to Cheltenham!
I didn't really call ahead, so when I buzzed Graz's flat she was rather elated. She was watching 'Twilight' on DVD, Chris was working. I spent the afternoon & evening there, with Liam & Dan coming over before Chris' return from work. Liam left early to get on with a design deadline for a friend-of-friend client. The thing I like about waking up in Chris' room (now vacant most of the time) is the sound of traffic, which seems to ease me from slumber when I feel rested enough to be refreshed. Hopped out to Tesco for bread & eggs, scrambled egg breakfast. I spend the afternoon with Chris, and later Dan as well, walking out to the fields beyond the racecourse. It's really beautiful out there; I'll have to take my camcorder along sometime. We wanted to be away while Graz's pals gradually filtered in for the evening. That night: snacks & drinking games with a packed flat, out to Subtone. A good time.
Lazy Sunday at the old Anlaby place; Liam had left the night before to go back home (down Saarrff) for the design meeting. Cooked breakfast and fun new cartoon discoveries (Mission Hill being the best, along with Home Movies and the Oblongs...). Also, a great dark comedy show by two of the League of Gentlemen, Psychoville. The series is still running, & you can catch up with the episodes so far on the BBC iPlayer.
We went out for a roast carvery at the Parrot, pricey but satisfying. Graz & Chris's place, card games, usual things. On Monday we'd planned a nice picnic in a wooded area me & Graz visited before, but it was rained off. We resorted to picnicking indoors. I'd gone up to the local laboratory to have a picture enlarged for Graz (along with a 6x4 reprint for her new bedside picture frame), so I went to pick it up while Chris acquired tickets for us to go to see Public Enemies. Graz liked the pictures, Public Enemies was very good. There was an odd amount of talk about the fact Michael Mann had chosen to shoot it digitally. It's not really an unusual technical decision by now, although the acquisition format was quite obvious: startlingly sharp in still moments & blurry during energetic camera movements. In some big commercial productions, digitally shot films can be made to look traditionally filmic - for an example that I saw at the cinema, The Other Boleyn Girl was shot entirely with the Panasonic Genesis - but a lot of filmmakers choose to do something different with the peculiar aesthetics of digital acquisition, like a lot of the Dogme95 films in the heyday of DV. Given its period setting, I felt Public Enemies might've looked better shot to film, but it was brave of Mann to avoid going straight for the easy route of aping classic film noir, which couldn't have produced anything but a pastiche given the serious mood.
I headed home after midday on Tuesday (planning to go out in the evening with an old infant school pal; it didn't transpire due to his work commitments). I think the move back to Cheltenham is more likely than not. When I've visited the town since I left, I've found that I didn't have any desire to come back (especially the last time before this weekend's visit, when I found the old flat strangely depressing). However, I've spent a year in Telford, jobless, and gradually losing creative energy until my cartooning came to a completely standstill after the DFC folded in late March, making the Flyboy project redundant. I don't regret any decisions that I've made, and I'm glad that I didn't impulsively follow the Manchester idea before the numerous occasions when things went tits-up with Dad (which always requires distance to cool). It's time for action, even if that action is something of a regression. Lucy & others are dubious of my moving without a job in place, but I can't say that I really think like that. I can afford a couple of months of unemployment while I'm looking for some way to sustain myself. For reasons of family & the band, there is some selfishness in going, but I feel like it's a necessary selfishness for the good of my life & 'art'. Welcome me back into your arms, Gloucestershire, rested & chastened, with a hope for the ascetic.
Decadence in Berlin performed in Liverpool last night. It was good fun overall; me & Lucy travelled up well in advance of soundcheck so that we could have a walk about the town. Lucy locked her keys & handbag in her car, but thankfully we rang up Graham before he left Telford, who brought over her spare keys later. She didn't want to go into town without money, so we took some photos on her DSLR (the only thing she didn't lock into the car, sans bag) outside the beautiful Metropolitan Cathedral, and dropped in for a few minutes of the choral vespers. We performed as part of the fortnightly Free Rock & Roll night at the Caledonia, run by Pete Bentham (who described us as "New Order Style Arty Pop from Telford" on the gig poster). We got a good reception from lots of friendly scousers. Would like to go back to play in the town sometime in the future.
Another bit: a while back we performed at the Public arts centre in West Bromwich, for which the resident media students produce a live video of each band. Ours is finally available over on YouTube (see cutaway below). Lucy & Graham think it's a bad performance, but I think it's alright. Work>Play is probably our most traditional rock song, not especially original but good as part of a set to break up songs about insects & the recession. I haven't watched the crew's other videos, but apparently they tend to put more cheesy video effects on bands whose performances they think are worthy. Oh well. Lucy looks terribly bored throughout all of it & I keep doing this ugly lip biting that looks as bad as I thought it would (I can't help it! its my bassist's gurn). Enjoy! Sign off: 1.24pm
( Work>Play performed at the Public in West Bromwich ) |
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| My secretly inflated self-belief |
[29th Jun. 2009 | 12:09am] |
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and all the gestating ideas have given birth to innumerable plans. It takes a concerted effort to see them properly realised, of course. I must give this one the time & confidence it deserves. Sign off: 12.13am |
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| "He's all into photography!" - Grandmother |
[19th Jun. 2009 | 11:15am] |
| [ | Soundtrack |
| | 'The Boy with Magazines' - Pete Bentham and The Dinner Ladies | ] |
An odd thing about the combination of living back on the same street as my grandma & being unemployed is that we seem to end up in strange routines. Up until a while ago I would hop the six doors down the road for Horlicks most nights that I wasn't out socialising (I tended to have less opportunity to go out in those days). Since I'm 'signing on' weekly for a while, on a day that coincides with her shopping trips (Thursday), we've been meeting for lunch. Yesterday, I realised that other than the occasional heating job I couldn't remember the last thing that I had cooked for myself, apart from a scrambled egg brunch.
It's been an odd week ~ this time seven days ago I was still in one of the occasional filial feuds with the pater; Saturday was the third time out at a nightclub famous for its grottiness, Pussycats; Sunday was a little hangover; Monday, the gig in Islington (which Lucy was disappointed with) supporting a really wonderful punk band called Pete Bentham and The Dinner Ladies ~ evening in a Travelodge in Marylebone; Tuesday was all about Zone 1 on the tube, sun-sweat, found a copy of Invisible Waves on DVD for eight quid (must acquire all the Tartan stuff I can); Wednesday, a meal out for Andy's 20th birthday ("A Mongolian barbecue, in a Northern European log cabin, with Mediterranean music! How deliciously po-mo!" ~ no surprise people think I'm gay); last night, out in Shifnal, a silly thing, and this morning. Ibuprofen! My usual moderation has been defenestrated.
Although I've doodled a little to test out new cartooning materials (Hunt 102 is recommended), generally I've found myself spending far more time learning to use the Canon HV30. I've tried out the more recent footage (shot in 25p) on a couple of HD television sets, and the quality is fabulous. I can't believe that I had the crazy idea that I'd hire out a Panasonic HVX200 for a week (with DoF adapter & all the other necessary accessories for an indie shoot) to make my short film. (Reckless delusions of my abilities!) I'm so glad that Graham brought along his little handicam to gigs, spurring my research into consumer HD. For about 25-30% extra budget, I'm able to own equipment that is good enough for my level of competence, which has given me the freedom to learn how to use the stuff, achieving the desired results. I can also shoot whenever my helping hands are free. (Dave is the star; Graham is my sound man; Mike wants to help, so I guess he'll be the gaffer.)
This morning I received my first batch of black & white photographs from the lab in Bournemouth, two 36-exposure rolls of Ilford HP5 in my Nikon F65 & Olympus OM20. I don't know if it's the fact that I paid for a decent lab over Tesco (where my colour prints have hitherto been processed), the inherent qualities of monochromatic technology, or my slowly improving technical savvy, but these prints are far more beautiful than anything I've been able to get out of colour negatives. Generally, the best shots of all my images so far have been the portraits taken with the standard 50mm lens on the OM20. I'm thinking that I might get a wide-angle OM lens for street shots & have done with the Nikon, except perhaps for the occasional long exposure. (A night shot of traffic on the Eastern Primary came out well.)
Okay; a cup of Tetley, some Shredded Wheat & perhaps a little television. Daytime, here I cometh. Sign off: 11.59am |
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| The Quality of Light |
[11th Jun. 2009 | 10:27pm] |
| [ | Soundtrack |
| | "Mongoloid! he was a Mongoloid..." | ] |
I watched Opera Jawa the other night, and it's all raptures. It's an Indonesian musical film. I'm generally not a fan of the genre ~ the music in the very popular examples tends to be a bit too cloying for my taste ~ but recently, I've found some wonderful exceptions: Dancer in the Dark was the eighth Lars Von Trier film I've seen, and my favourite of them; and Once, a quaint romance with a uniquely 'singer-songwriter' bent, shot cheaply in HD. Opera Jawa is different in that the music is taken from traditional Javanese forms rather than being grounded in popular music. The colours & lighting are glorious. It's odd; although being very different in almost every sense, I found myself drawn to think of Syndromes and a Century (a favourite): it turns out that both films were commissioned for the same festival (as well as another film, I Don't Want to Sleep Alone, which I own on DVD but have yet to watch).
Band practise this evening. We've got a pretty good set of seven songs for the London (Islington) gig on Monday, including a new one, 'Two Dreams', which I need to write lyrics for! (I am just going to ramble atonally.) Yesterday was one of my most rubbish days in an age, also one of the longest. Before bed, I mentioned something I'd said to my sister in the morning, thinking it had been the previous day. I couldn't believe it. I very rarely wake up before eight a.m. Sign off: 10.48pm |
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| European Election Results |
[9th Jun. 2009 | 07:50pm] |
For what little it's worth, I went Lib Dem... seemed to do some good, they beat the BNP in the region, if only just: 170,246 to 121,967. (They did far better than any of the other smaller parties.) Still, UKIP got 300,471...
And overall, our far-right nationalists did as well as our environmentalist party. This country. What to do? Sign off: 7.55pm |
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| Queen Victoria's Greatest Legacy |
[8th Jun. 2009 | 08:37pm] |
| [ | Soundtrack |
| | 'Mongoloid' - Devo | ] |
Winsor & Newton Series 7 Kolinsky Sable Brushes. They're terribly expensive (I've moved from the #3 to #2 to save a third on the price), but their superiority is self-evident. I've tried some cheaper sables from a wonderful-in-theory family business, and briefly (i.e. for about five minutes this morning) regressed to W&N's sable/synthetic blends... but S7s are the best. Admittedly, I haven't tried Raphael 8404s...
You pay for what you get. In the words of Eric Gill:
"A bad workman blames his tools: because a good workman does not use bad tools." Sign off: 8.55pm |
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| A few comix-related tit-bits |
[2nd Jun. 2009 | 12:36pm] |
Every so often, I search to find news of new projects by Daniel Clowes, because it's been a while since he had a new original comic book out. The last was the wonderful 'Death Ray' issue of Eightball. I've known for a couple of months that there was a completed justified reason for his absence, yet I've been impatiently anticipating new material. The New Yorker website has published a blog entry that previews his forthcoming book, with a thin synopsis and a five-panel slideshow. Both the description of the content & the manner of the cartooning seem redolent of Ice Haven, his most recent book (discounting the upcoming Mister Wonderful collection). This is no bad thing in my book ~ I think everything he has done since Ghost World has been nothing short of genius. (Only read the Fantagraphics editions of Ghost World; those by Jonathan Cape in the UK have this garish green for a second colour which is entirely contrary to Clowes' vision for the book.)
If, for some inexplicable reason, you are still yet to be the proud owner of the first compendium of American Elf strips by James Kochalka, then I suggest heading over to Forbidden Planet's website, where they are practically giving them away for less than six pounds. It'll probably take a while to arrive, but consider the fact that Amazon are asking for over fifteen pounds for the privilege of acquiring it (closer to what I paid)...
And, to end this entry, I've been trying to find an adequate moment to use this journal to go against my usual anti-militancy stance, and force my opinion upon anyone that might read these lines. I'm reminding you all that Chris Reynolds's Mauretania comic strips are the greatest examples of the form ever produced in our fair isle. I suggest buying his self-published compendiums, Adventures From Mauretania and/or The Dial and Other Stories, and then continuing on to his (also self-published) reprint of the original Penguin graphic novel, Mauretania. I'd cite the literary precedent for his style in Kafka, with the strained interaction between characters & the general taste for shadows and obscurity. Quite how the literary comix presses of North America have ignored the need for a substantial retrospective of his work is beyond me. He deserves more than the flimsy production values of Lulu. In the words of Garth Marenghi... or rather, 'word': "Savour." Sign off: 1.15pm |
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| No Twilight; Afternoons in Summer |
[1st Jun. 2009 | 02:31am] |
Suddenly, with the prevalence of our sun, I find myself trying to relish the quiet glory of every gregarious moment ~ sitting on the grass of a retail park, all about after the previous evening's excesses (feeling incongruously fine for it); a day of two barbecues, trying to avoid the desire for a medium between the greater art of the instance. It makes me less inclined to think sombrely, as I find myself in our country's common coldness.
I think I believe in the value of the experience of the moment more so than I ever have, rather than just the aesthetic conceit of the fragment. Maybe this is something these newer mediums have given me. I can create snapshots and video, but they have given me something greater in life: the decisive moment & cinema ~ the real cinema; living. Sign off: 2.45am |
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pygmyking's journal