Well, that's an excellent excuse to talk about the magnificent 48 hours I've had. ;)
Yesterday, I slept a lot. I visited high_fantastical
, and we flailed happily about perfume; and then I went down to London. And I ate food, and eventually we went upstairs to the tiny gig room, and -- oh, and. Music. Live music, and I always forget this, is one of the other ways to move me into feeling rather than doing - to step outside analysis, to give myself to the moment and the movement and the sound.
The opener was Misogyny Central; but then we had Dave Hughes & The Renegade Folk Punk Band and - oh, oh, they sang to me about Larkin; how could I but fall in love with them? They sang to me about Larkin and about writing and about identity and about the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves and about music and - oh, my heart, my heart.
And then. Then the Indelicates, launching their latest album, Diseases of England (which contains Not Alone - last night was the first time I heard it - and also Class, which begins a school of gothic arches and a college of them too/and a parliament that looks and feels the same...
, and it is on youtube with their glorious video and you should watch it, because they are fantastic) and oh but they did so much that I love. You're too clever to be mentally ill
, I shouted along with them, cider in hand, and be afraid of your parents/be afraid of their clever friends/I've read this book before, and darling -/I can tell you how it ends.../be afraid of the line they teach you/be afraid of the way it goes/you'd be amazed at what you can raise/to something everybody knows...
And they did Our Daughters Will Never Be Free, and they did oh so much that was glorious, and behind them on the stage was my fantastic, fantastic friend and her drums (hi! feel free to identify yourself in comments! i am just not sure whether you have talked about this publically and am too sleepy to go ferretting ♥), and - yes. (I still believe in the need for guitars and drums and desperate poetry.)
So much fantastic music. So many wonderful people. ♥
and I came home, and - and this does involve the computer - I worked on some stuff for DW, and various other bits and bobs, and I fell asleep - and then, this morning, I:
- picked up my post;
- dropped off a repeat prescription request (so much of my life is healthwork; I've run out of one set of tablets, a non-serious type; will run out of another by the time I get to pick up my refills next week; and have only 8 days' supply of citalopram left, which is the closest I've ever got to running out and is a little bit scary in terms of what it means about how much the project was taking out of me);
- stared at the sunshine and the graffiti and the trees and my city
- ate food, and washed up, and packed;
- and got on a train oop t'Norf, where I'm curled up on a sofa with the Moon shining in on me (and it is at times like this that I think about what I've done with respect to selenology, and I am bowled voer by the things I know about it, and by what I see).
Trains are a big part of my life; last night, on the way to the gig, Chris and I ended up working out how many Wise Guys songs are about trains (at least four). Trains scare me, a bit, but I love them and can't not - the motion and the rails and the everything; the taking me places; the hills and the drystone walls I get to see; the... everything. It broke my heart and put it back together, to be travelling through high ground and moorland and the country, and it makes me wonder what on Earth I think I'm doing planning to move to London when I so clearly belong somewhere with skyline and bedrock and - then I disappear into I Go To The Hills When My Heart Is Lonely, and everyone's frankly a bit embarrassed to know me.
So. What do I do away from the computer? Healthwork, both of the physical variety and mental housekeeping. Cooking and eating and enjoying food. Reading - I did quite a lot of that today. Interacting with my mum (today it was on the phone) and with people I love (HI GUYS). Living in my body and in the world. Music. Loving. Things like that, you know.