the last month

So, it’s been more than a month. Since I last wrote, I’ve spent a few days in Paris – skipping through the raindrops, eating the biggest pastry ever, and managing to speak French coherently (though not all at the same time). Back in London, I’ve walked disappointedly out of David Thomas’s Pere Ubu (theatre done badly, done badly) but then had the evening redeemed by fantastic conversation with friends, read The Book of Dave, seen Vanessa Redgrave in The Year of Magical Thinking, started learning how to sew, taken a tour of the Houses of Parliament, almost been touched by the hand of Marc Almond, considered throwing myself off Tower Bridge the Night of Boris Johnson, watched Sebadoh perform their Bubble and Scrape album, seen a friend make amazing performance art, read Revolutionary Road, listened to Mark Thomas talk about the arms trade, felt angry and powerless about the Burmese government’s response to the cyclone, attended a filming of Bremner, Bird and Fortune, started crying again when I listen to my favourite songs, and been captivated and inspired by the film of Persepolis. I’ve also limped on average for two days each week, after doing exercises in the park. That’s pretty much it, aside from my continuing inability to capture these and other moments in any kind of tangible way.

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