The Good Life

...January, and indeed February, are dead times. After the hullaballoo of the silly season and the turn of another year, the first two months of the calendar are either time to lie around in the sweltering heat or stay indoors from the freezing cold. And so, coupled with a sudden change in employment circumstances, your correspondent finds himself of late with a whole lot more time on his hands, time to think, time to practice, time to dwell....
So in continuation from the last entry, the work permit worked out fine. Two weekends ago, a quick jaunt to the City of Light and a fax later bought me another six months here. We'll see how we go...
....Today's foray from the flat took me to neighbourhood of Old Street, a huge crossroads being the meeting point of the City of London and the East End. A similarly aged friend of mine remembers cycling down streets in nearby (now trendy) Shoreditch that hadn't been rebuilt since the Battle of Britain, and in a way the surrounding area still looks a bit the same in parts. My mission was offices of the national ballet organisation whose name I've already forgotten, to inspect and pick up some copies of music for a potential gig playing for classes at a local specialised high school. I took the plunge and bought both books, it'll be a bit of sightreading which is always good and some more work could come from it.
I stumbled past a bar with posters in the window - that's right, today's Valentines Day. Oh well, no concern here I thought as I trudged along.
And then, a sudden memory of someone I used to be with, someone who's life force was so strong it swept you along with it, kept you coming back for more, and now the absence of that feeling, and where it left me....
On the way back home I dropped in to my local Bangla store for a couple of jars of Mr Naga but alas, they were all out! You mean other people in this town are crazy enough to eat that stuff? This is nuclear powered chilli paste we're talking about here, interdimensional capabilities. Next week I suppose....
.....Back to the flat, to the piano, to those same nagging thoughts about my situation and it's various conditions.....
....NO! I won't let this happen, not again.....
....Time for some sugar. I learnt this a while back on a drunken late night recording session - slumped in some ridiculous self-centred brood, a friend whisked me to his back shed at three in the morning to record an accordion sounding part on some old contraption he'd bought from Vinnies or somewhere....unphased by my sudden mood slump, he plied me up with toast layered with loads of honey and a cup of tea with about five sugars. It didn't solve my problems but it gave me that little kick along to get me out of my anti-reverie and oompahing away in his backshed recording studio in the freezing Canberra winter....
....So that's what I did. I lined up a hot chocolate. I put some washing on. I listened to some Marvin Gaye. I went and found stuff to do. And it worked. It's a process of digging yourself out of it, and after what seems like such a long time, I know that I'm getting better at it, little by little....