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Monthly Archives: December 2014

you know that it would be untrue

I remember Foss playing Riders on the Storm during a thunderstorm when we both lived at 7 The Esplanade West.

He turned the music up full, opened the window and sat on the ledge, hanging out of the third floor window and quickly getting so soaked that his blifter got all soggy and went out.

A nearby crack of thunder and he fell off the window ledge into a tree in the garden below, scratched and winded but otherwise unharmed.

He got off the drugs and became a counsellor, but then got back on the drugs, and never escaped them after that.

There was a crazy, gleeful, desperate energy in his worldview, he was a liar and a thief and a general do-wrong, he’d steal your girl and then borrow money from you to take her out, and he’d never pay you back, but he could also be perceptive and thoughtful and tender, he was a great conversationalist too, and sometimes I think he had the mix about right.

Rocky Mountain High

Was flown to the Canadian Rockies and offered the chance to write a guy’s memoirs.

The Rockies inspire awe, but the guy was a self-obsessed bore. I don’t mind a bit of navel gazing in someone, but when combined with an undeserved sense of entitlement it left me cold.

I declined his offer.

 

6 months

It’s the drugs mainly; they put me off my game, make it hard to collect my thoughts, and I’ve bcome more absent minded, pouring milk in my wine for instance, and doing it twice in one night although, without the chemicals I ingest, my head explodes. But outcomes begin with intention, and as the latest commercial book is off my hands at with the publisher so I can go back to the dark heart of my writing.

That is, when I can focus.