Monday, 11 January 2016

Monday Evening.

Two posts in one day. You'll be asking me to pipe down soon.

Just went upstairs - for some reason, I just 'knew' that there was something wrong upstairs waiting for me. Small dog has dug a hole through the mattress on my bed right through to the other side.

I cycled home in the dark and wet. That hill gets steeper every day. Arriving home I realised I'd left my key at the studio. Had to cycle back down the hill And then back up again.

I'm watching Sin City - I'd forgotten what a great film it was. I've retreated from the internet - it's gone from honest and heartfelt Bowie tributes to a mess of self-aggrandising and point scoring. I knew it wouldn't take long.

The anecdotes from earlier today reminded me of two more.

There were only ever two occasions when I felt I'd shared anything with my father. We didn't have a good relationship for many reasons and I honestly don't actually have any memory of him speaking directly to me - except once, and I don't want to talk about that.

When I was about 11 or 12 we sat and watched 'The Man Who Fell To Earth' on TV. It was one of the first grown-up films I'd ever seen, and I loved it - I remember every frame of that film still in microscopic detail, it all made perfect sense to me, even the parts that were 'adult' - I particularly remember my dad's face when Candy Clarke was so frightened by Bowie as an alien she wet herself, and fascinated by the 3D instant photography concept he had brought to earth. The only other occasion we spent any time together was going to the cinema to watch 2001. I have no idea what he thought about it, but again, it was a revelation to me - and I would have been about 12. I've watched 2001 many, many times since - and found something new every time - but I don't need to see 'man Who Fell To Earth' - it's still in my head on perfect recall.

I may watch 'The Hunger' later - another film that stuck in my head as part of my personal connection with popular culture. I was a really big Bauhaus fan so the opening sequence was enough to get me interested. I had the album that song came from on repeat for months. I was living in my council flat in Peckham at the time - it was ridiculous - a huge 3 bedroom place in an old LCC brick built block - gigantic sash windows and a balcony overlooking a Victorian school - £24pcm. It was so well insulated it never needed heating and there was no sound from any other neighbour. Shame the area was so bad, chaotic at best. I particularly remember rioting in the streets and the sky filled with smoke and flames from burning shops and cars on Peckham Road. Demolished now.

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