On saturday night we all had good fun at the Fishmarket for the opening of the James Jessop and Harry Pye exhibition. I got lumped with the 'setting up sound gear' job which always stresses me out (though I can't complain too much as I did volunteer, but I do like complaining) but after that got done everything went mostly smoothly. It was strange seeing the Fishmarket actually looking like a place you'd want to spend time in, very very exciting. Also, it was very nice seeing everyone who had worked so hard to get it all done, and they've done a great job, able to let their hair down and have nice evening. A big hand for everyone.
So, what have I been doing. I recently started working on a little book which eventually I'm gonna photocopy and make available in my shop and wherever else I can. It's a project I've been talking about doing for some time and I thought I'd better just get on with it and stop procrastinating. It takes the form of one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books that were popular in the 80s and 90s. (You might not remember them but apparently the series sold over 250 million copies, so I'm not making it up.) So, here's a page of the story, it's pretty weird.
Figuring you’ve developed some new and cruel allergy to out-dated dairy products, your stomach instantly does backflips and you run out to the street, instantly hurling your guts into the gutter. This lasts about 10 minutes and you can taste every meal from the past week spilling from you in slow motion. Gross. You gradually regain some semblance of composure, reminding yourself that illness is for the weak and you are better than this, sure you’ve turned into some weird cartoon-ish comedy creature, but in your mind your still a strong independent human being with a conscience and a soul and tickets to see Rod Stewart this weekend. The thought of Rod Stewart forces another little bit of sick up out of your throat. Tears start to well up in your eyes and, unknowingly, you begin to walk towards the town centre. Looking up towards the sun you can actually see and hear the clouds moving, whooshing through the air, you also notice the birds darting in all directions desperately trying to avoid the same moving clouds. It takes a little while to work it out but apparently the clouds are chasing the birds, round and round, about seven clouds to fifteen birds.
Then something happens. As your eyes start following one particular bird which seems to be struggling with a damaged wing being toyed with by the clouds, the birds manage to escape and fly away to the safety of a nearby tower block. The clouds have stopped darting about and are now all hovering in close formation, and you can’t be sure because they don’t have eyes, but they seem to be focussing on you. Everything’s getting colder and your starting to get a bit scared which is understandable. Like bees and dogs and bus drivers, clouds can apparently smell fear and to them it smells like lunch. Fear turns to the much tastier panic as all seven clouds combine as one large mega cloud and momentarily form a large hand with an index finger pointing straight between your eyes. “Gulp.”
“I’m not one hundred percent certain but it has occurred to me that this cloud could potentially cause me a measure of bodily harm. I’m not normally a coward but on this occasion I think I’ll make my excuses and leave.”
Or“I bet you I have probably got some really cool special powers, it seems only fair to compensate my loss of good looks with something helpful.”
Now for some music to tide you over (as if anyone is actually still reading this.) First is a track by Cradle Of Smurf from Strasbourg, France, a mostly electro pop act with art rock tendencies, this track is instrumental but they aren't all instrumental, and you can dance to it. Then there's a pair of 13 year old girls from Portland, Oregon (indie capital of the world don't you know?) called Blübird, and their song is about global warming. It's nice. Listen. (sorry i'm not writing more, but my eyes are weak from monitor burn)