Just finished work for the evening..another day of cleaning and driving around in my Nisan micra.
I’m doing “the ragged trousered philanthropists” on audiobook.. I’m ingesting rather than reading literature.. it’s a very interesting tombe… I’m also doing “the toad to Wigan pier ” without looking too hard I guess they are written around the same time
Edwardians and later..
Har har the road to Wigan pier.. the spelling suggestions of these computer contraptions would have us all in prison
The suprisingest thing is that Inoticed a blog reader today
I’m not gonna name itz zelf but zho would be readin me blog let alone likin it…
How on ciber earth can I reveal my whole humanity if I have an actual audience..
All future posts will be censored…all true revelations will be on paper. Saw mum kicking out a typewriter..s’mine
I am playing with the notion that this 3 storey house is a “mall” if you like, an internal village, each room an arena of productivity, each hallway or stair a road…
We are lucky to be the only inhabitants (me&mum) and of course the downstairs animals (max, Salem, Oscar)
Who has looked at my blog???
Is it really my time to build up a picture through words?
I have such resistance to this notion, because of my love for paint, drawing, carving, sculpture,and all other ways of describing the world
Forgot music…I love music , but hate its instomatic affect on my sensibility.
This time I shall use music on the people, not let music change my ways by the mere hearing of it…
Do you understand? Dear reader …
I miss Paul hunwick
