“The last bit of colour before the winter takes hold,” Lou has just said, of the light through the trees at Stanmer Park. Late afternoon sun through the damp, the crowds are not there at this time of year, the sky is blue though and the last of the leaves have turned. Some pathways are half-heartedly fenced off for “improvement work” but nobody was working on them. We shifted the ped barrier and struck out.
The cedars, slippery clay mud tracks, little glades. We went up to where the bluebells start in April and but for muddy dog walkers it was peaceful. I got mud in my boot, all the way up, into the top. Not sure how. There’s horse shit all over. Robins and squirrels. It’s good to be back in this part of the world. Magpies. Not much else. The hardy and bold species, the ones that are used to scavenging from humans and don’t tend to have rocks thrown at them.
In the walled garden, we ran into Ben – another Factorite, a man I’ve known for long years. Twice in one week. We talked about Othello. Great to see him there, to be in his space again so soon. I’m considerably slower to trust men. “That’s some strong energy you’ve just sewn around The Factory,” Lou observed after we parted. “That sort of thing might keep happening for a bit…” Especially since I’m going to be in Julius Caesar next week.
Lou had booked a sauna at Stanmer Sauna Gardens, Bella’s place.
It’s a horse box, toasty warm, so hot sometimes that we had to get out as both Lou and I found it painful to breathe through our noses. We would emerge steaming, cool in the air, go back in. I didn’t plunge as I might normally do, or run to the sea as is recommended at Beach Box. I just cooked and cooled, cooked and cooled. It’s about taking care and going to wellness after such a long time of consistent *something* . Paris to Othello. Now JC and almost certainly a spot of Santa, ding dong captain random is calling and must be answered.
We watched Wes Anderson films by the radiator with occasional breaks to stroke the cat. We had an enormously hot bath. We put the blanket on. Last night my dreams were wild and my sleep was very broken, more than usual. Less lucidity than usual, I woke myself up from sudden nightmare and that never happens. I steer it good again. My creative and my cosmic muscles must be stretched. Good to rest them. I’ll sleep better tonight I’m sure.
AlBarclay 