January Friday

It’s so warm in London. It took going back over last year’s blog to remember just how bum-clenchingly cold it was in town this time last year as I was trying to staple material to a wooden frame inside a van in a parking bay in London Bridge. This time last year was a frantic freezing few days, making a space for something that we didn’t even know the shape of at Vault. Today has been calm. Peaceful. I have neither done anything nor have I felt the need to do anything. If I hadn’t gone to the shop almost just for the hell of it then I wouldn’t have left the house at all. I didn’t need to go to the shop either. I just found myself putting my boots on and walking out the door in a vague attempt to trick myself into thinking I was achieving something.

My bedroom is a pleasant cocoon where I can wrap myself in sheets as the winter wears away and read books and plays and play games and write out these thoughts and keep the world at bay for a day or so. Sure I’ve been emailing and writing and even booked a little bit of work for tomorrow. I was meant to meet a friend for evening drinks but her kid isn’t well so she had to rush straight home to take care of him, so I just stayed at home and took care of me. It’s only just 9pm and I’m winding myself towards sleep. I don’t start work until 2 tomorrow. Ahhh mild winter laziness.

I have too much stuff at home, accumulated from so many different sources, much of it with a story. If I’m trying to get things done it can be very distracting as there’s just loads of things to pick up and become momentarily fascinated with. It’s perfect for a lazy day like this though. A bit of Spitfire fuselage that I’m using to keep coins and dice inside? Check.


“Our Lady the untier of knots” taken from a voodoo altar in New Orleans? Check. A papier maché bust of my head wearing my father’s old battered trilby? Check. Great big intricate model boats, multiple busts of Gladstone and Disraeli in cast iron or red stone. Check. Guitars and accordions and a very sophisticated steaming iron that I honestly don’t think I’ll ever use particularly considering I threw away my ironing board when I noticed it had an asbestos heat-plate. Old stuff mixed with technology mixed with mystic stuff mixed with things of beauty mixed with junk. Thankfully always in the back of my head is a voice telling me to keep moving stuff on. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to move in here. I’m a stuff conduit. Annoyingly it isn’t a maximum £1 listing weekend on eBay or I’d have made better use of my time. But it’s always nice to do nothing until it gets repetitive. I’m glad I’m busy tomorrow. But this has been a fine January Friday.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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