THE GREAT ESCAPE:

Late last night, too tired to stay up any longer, each day is like
walking a tightrope. It takes concentration, the kind that wrings
you dry. I look back on most days & think,
“What the hell did I do today?”, but recovery from anything serious
is a slow process if you want it done properly. Never saw myself as
the nursing type, but when the buck got passed it stopped with me.
I get up with the 6:30am alarm most mornings, glad to be moving
around fast. Clock on in the studio, record for an hour, then clock
on at the lap-top & work on drafts of the new book. An hour on each,
flipping between the two lifts my spirits as I see results emerge.
Then the household stirs & the questions begin, snatched fragments of
conversations in the cracks between rushing to get to the next place.
Serious stuff to discuss that’s given a flicker of time on the run.
Should be sat on the back step, shooting the breeze, finding solutions
as a team swerving pressure. This morning I ignored the alarm & wish
I hadn’t. The body was talking to me like a teenage duvet diving.
I like getting up with the sun, a mug of black tea in my hand,
walking slow to the sound of birdsong.
There’s a Robin on the gatepost every time I pass. The spirit of my
Granddad come to check us out. He always turns up when it hits the fan
or when I need back-up.

So last night I was too tired to stay up any longer, but I had these
new mixes from Rick &, well, I was curious, pressed PLAY.
An hour later, I’m closing up the studio, not tired, but heading
to bed, grinning.

This morning, by the light of a bright Essex sun, I’m listening to
‘Neon Forest Space’ by Oyvind Torvund & asamisimasa,
it fits my mood perfect.

(K)