english heritage: humpty fucking dumpty

check this out! an entirely written in the morning blogpost. 

yesterday a day of crossed wires. 

today (hopefully) everything will work out.

horsemouth missed the message that would have enabled him to go and be useful (the thing he likes to do). instead, in the absence of bookings, he decided to head off to the TATE and take in some art (and then have a wander around). 

he was particularly taken by english heritage: humpty fucking dumpty by bill woodrow (1987). a school's vaulting horse is displaced from stability by various insertions and a gas cylinder is balances precariously ontop. he hid in the small gallery near the cafe and found out about the artists international association and peter lazlo peri. 

he then wandered up through the sunshine and whitehall to trafalgar square and the national gallery (but his heart wasn't really in it), then off to look at his old place of work, then off to the bookmarx bargain table and a few other local ones.  

he's up james white's dark inferno and paul jennings' the living village. (one squid each bookmarx). 

on his way back (again in the sunshine) he called in on the old homestead. ian was in (sten, daryll and nesta were not) and horsemouth and he chatted. ian was clearing out under the front steps and considerable strides have been made towards making the house habitable and the back garden usable again. that said the house currently has a mouse problem (which horsemouth is glad to miss). 

by way of comparison over in douarnenez with roger barnes' refurb project lots of rain and slow progress. 

from the old house horsemouth repoed his jumbo guild acoustic guitar (the one with the lifted action that he played slide on for funeral song). it was good that he showed up then. the rest of it is about to be entombed behind even more stuff. 

horsemouth wandered home (well to his brother's) and then went to bed early tired after all the walking. he did some thinking about why it is less satisfying for him to visit it as a tourist than to nip in between bookings when he was a worker.  

today looks like being another good day weatherwise. horsemouth will be on his way in a bit. 

journey to the end of the (northern) line

while he has been up in london (the great wen) 

horsemouth has been reading doris lessing's the memoirs of a survivor. there's a film (directed by david gladwell).

this is a novel of daughterly relationships and of societal collapse (the book was written in 1974 and is very much of its time). the collapse is well underway when the book starts. waste tips are being mined for reusable commodities. the skilled work at bringing these back into use. the youth group together into gangs before becoming restless and moving away. 

the book contains some good gardening advice. 

horsemouth prepared for his journey using queens road walthamstow in the direction of gospel oak, a route that he has only used once or twice ever and a visit to archway (where he lived for a few months back in 1983 or so). 

horsemouth has to report than london is not in a state of collapse but is in fact in rude health. 

--------------------------

in high barnet he met up with paul clark and away they went for a wander (after a coffee), a free bookstore, lunch  and after that a wander (there was a battle and the site of an angry brigade action), and then a beer or two and after that back to paul's place to listen to some music and drink some wine while paul cooked dinner. 

at the free bookstore horsemouth acquires  great reckonings in little rooms a phenomenological account of the theatre. (there was another book on theatre too but horsemouth didn't want to be greedy).

paul's partner returned and they ate dinner and discussed bellringing among other things (because paul's partner is a bell ringer - what are the odds?). 

horsemouth has to pronounce it a great day. he had a lot of fun. 

-----------------

horsemouth has had a cancelation for this morning but is looking to book up further visits with people.

anyone around?  

horsemouth urban worrier

thanks danny.

so here is horsemouth. he's not 'a free man in london... unfettered and alive' as he claimed but a beast persecuted by random anxieties. 

he is an urban worrier. (this is truer than people know)

he worries in the countryside too (but there is less to worry about there). 

he worries about the construction of his sentences. 

and then he worries that he doesn't look cheerful enough in the photos. 

--------------------------------------------------------

what relieves the worrying? 

walking and writing

during his chats with minty the topic of how reading has changed the human brain came up. literacy has benefits for sure but it also has some perceptual costs in terms of removing you from the present and your actual existence. 

(there's some discussion of what a strange activity reading is in a history of reading). 

this is what people really want. people do not wish to be stuck with boredom, they wish to be distracted from it. 

they do not wish to go through their boredom so as to emerge on the other side with self-directed activity. 

writing 

this seems to do it for horsemouth. as long as he can diarise the day he feels ok about it. and as he writes (or as he walks) something will occur to him. he is used to the idea that this will be available for others to read - it would seem strange to him to write not intending that people should read it. 

walking

similarly walking. as horsemouth walks often his mood evens out. he can walk for a mission - to find old historical things, to photograph nature, to find an open second hand bookshop on a sunday. (curiously even working out how far he has walked he finds therapeutic). 

that said he can just as easily get hung up with unproductive thoughts while he is walking, the reveries that rousseau speaks of (and not in a good sense). 

reading 

reading often does it as well. he is simply not present when he is reading and reading often generates things he wants to write about. often, sad to say, these days, he has to trick himself into reading. he doesn't read with the same attention he once did, he no longer has research projects of the type he once had when he was reading in order to write something other than a diary. 

ok he's off for 

a walk

his plan was to walk over to south woodford staying this side of the north circular and see if the charity shops were open. but the tracks in the forest were too muddy so he diverted to cross the road (down by where denise and jonny once lived) planning to loop round and back home. 

as he walked down the hill he remembered that rust and massumi lived near there and called in on them on the off-chance. and indeed they were in, a large meal was prepared as they were having friends round for a (delayed) birthday celebration. horsemouth had shown up completely by chance. 

he was invited in and stayed for a while. once again their friends were great and it was great to see them. 

but then he became anxious about being elsewhere later and headed back to the house (he really doesn't know when he has it good). he could have probably stayed out longer but he becomes anxious about becoming overtired. 

oh well. he was just sitting out in the back garden in the sun. (such things are now possible). 

the thing in the evening did not materialise but horsemouth has a mission planned for today so he is fine with it. the mission involves a journey to the end of the (northern) line. 

fahey week begins again (and horsemouth is on holiday)

it is the 25th anniversary of john fahey's death (and fahey week begins again)

later on this week horsemouth will produce a fahey discography focusing on the recordings that horsemouth owns. it will be entitled blind joe death to red cross.  

he will try and give them a listen again so that he knows what he is talking about (or typing about). 

in this week you should allow fahey to intrude on your thoughts. from the raw boned and attitudinal youngster to the grand old man of 81 with heart problems and  epstein-barr syndrome. 

fahey was always well-organised when he came to record. said one of his collaborators. others recall that if it didn't go right on the first take you were in for trouble. often it came right regardless. but these recollections conflate fahey at the end of his career and in the middle of his career (in the orchestra period). 

horsemouth is on holiday

indeed he is. there are photos to prove it.

he should make a bigger effort to look happier in them don't you think. 

today a slow start in the morning. then a journey into town. he heard the bells rung at st. magnus the martyr (he thinks, it could have been another nearby church). 

he walked to stepney green arriving early and hid out for a while before ringing up to minty's. 

minty and jacqueline fed him (butterbean chili and taco shells) and then himself and minty headed off towards bethnal green and broadway market in search of second hand books. 

in search of second hand books

horsemouth recommended lewis hyde's trickster makes the world in oxfam bethnal green but the queue was long and this deterred them from buying it. they tried the salvation army bookshop on mare street and minty got a brace of thrillers for bus ride reading. they then cut across to broadway market for a coffee and a further book browse (but proper full price art books this time). 

there was much to admire but horsemouth wasn't feeling it. when he worked second hand books were a reward to himself for labour, materials in a vast research project, now that he is retired, and has moved them to the wilds of hereford, they are kind of a guilty burden. he needs to get on and get shelving for them (so he can get them in his room). he feels he  needs to reconstruct the library before he can add more books to it. 

of course he couldn't explain any of this at the time.  

thereafter they wandered back to minty's block and horsemouth wandered off to get the train back. 

tomorrow evening possibly the beginnings of a plan with myk. 

and in the day...? hmmmn. no real plans yet. 

horsemouth wakes up (the usual paranoia). he's made himself a pot of coffee. it's a greyish morning (but at least it's not raining yet). 

his wanderings round

so horsemouth is back from his wanderings round.

he will now tell you about them. 

horsemouth leaves liverpool street towards moorgate. his aim is to find the barbican by the powers of memory and luck alone. 

he finds the barbican and avails himself of the toilet facilities there. the art exhibit in the curve isn't open yet. he ascends to floor 2 to the library and takes a look at the library sale (ever reliable) - there are things that interest him but not enough to make him put his hand in his pocket (as it were).  he descends into the record library and looks at an exhibit of photos of debbie harry (and an expanded painting of the single heart of glass). 

thence up to floor 3 to the conservatory (shut horsemouth believes - but possibly not). then back down to floor 2, through a corridor with a view onto part of the encounters giacometi exhibit (kind of like photo 2) and out onto the high level bridge. 

part 2 of his plan is to make his way via st. paul's and the wobbly bridge to the tate modern. there in the turbine hall he finds a giant exhibit by máret ánne sara. more mazes thinks horsemouth (though he does not pause to sit and listen). 

but his feet will not let him be. they take him off in search of crossbones  and then back to liverpool street via london bridge. by this point it had come on to rain again. horsemouth had left home without his hat and phone (like a fool). he had also not brought his laptop - he probably could have taken advantage of some free wifi here or there to stay on top of his plans. 

on the train on the way back he read more of the journal of a survivor. there is the dreamland where doris lessing/ julie christie can walk through walls into new rooms and architectural spaces and there is the child emily/ jenny diski and her interactions with the roving gangs of young people. 

in addition to journal of a survivor horsemouth is also reading the portable hannah arendt which he loaned to his brother some time ago. hannah arendt is (as usual) reliably great. look at this bit;

'... I know exactly what I want to write. I do not write until I do.'

in the evening horsemouth had a shower. he feels progressively better (he thinks). he's a little out of practice with seeing and talking to people. 

today in the day. minty. 

but first a changing of the guard in the wilds -his brother is off by train, horsemouth has just walked him down to the station. he himself will be making the journey back next friday (so you have until then to see him). as usual he's been cack handed about letting people know he is here. 

he was a free man in LDN. he felt unfettered and alive...

'horsemouth is 

back from his night out.'

unfortunately this was all horsemouth was able to write after his first night out in the wen (such was his worse for wear).

he travelled down to reach TG at the parkbench. arriving early he checked out some of the local book boxes (sadly diminished) and (still being early) he went round TGs to pick him up. 

horsemouth's plan was to walk down through hackney to the whitechapel art gallery to meet howard for 12. horsemouth paused by some steps over the railway line near brick lane to get himself photographed by TG in a classic urban warrior pose. horsemouth's route was a bit erratic really (the better route is probably through london fields and the various markets but they went via victoria park instead). 

at the art gallery they had a cup of coffee and a slice of cake while waiting for howard to show up.

the baton was passed. 

horsemouth and howard travelled back from aldgate (or is it aldgate east) to sunny east ham. at howards they listened to howard's new music - slowly nearing completion/ and very good it is too - and howard cooked a vast pie and mash and gravy thing (which they ate). horsemouth commented on howard's original golancz edition of millstone grit. 

they then walked to the pub (the boleyn tavern in upton park). 

the first three pints passed off with conversation and without incident. thereafter horsemouth became increasingly enthusiastic. they adjourned to a warmer room at the back of the pub near the dining room with its glorious sun roof. 

there are some photos so you can judge the before and after of it. 

eventually they threw themselves out of the door and back to howards where horsemouth picked up his rucksack and departed into the night. he returned home via barking and walthamstow queen street without incident. 

his mission for the evening has evapourated (force of events). he will try to get out and around in the day. saturday there's a thing with minty. monday a thing with paul clark. 

'we all remember that time...' (year of the fire horses)

yesterday in the morning horsemouth was out for a walk

first  a circulation round the north circular. then the william morris gallery, walthamstow oxfam, salvation army. at the william morris an exhibition on liberty fabrics and their designers. 

books

at the salvation army and the oxfam there were books he could have bought (but then again he has a lot of books already. a lot of books he needs to take better care of). 

he settled on 1974's the memoirs of a survivor 

(doris lessing salvation army 50p).

'we all remember that time. it was no different for me than for others. yet we do tell each other over and over again the particularities of the events we shared, and the repetition, the listening, is as if we are saying. 'it was like that for you too?'' 

so it begins. it is strange. flip flopping from magical realism and seas and sea creatures to society collapsing, hooligans in the streets and a magical child (apparently based on jenny diski)

horsemouth's copy is a battered picador with a photo of julie christie on the front cover in the movie that was made of it. 

pens 

he bought some pens as well, good but expensive ones, so that he can get on with actually writing  (if the mood should  take him). 

horsemouth has his plans for tomorrow 

a walk first thing (but first a train ride and then a walk), then an art exhibit, then food and possibly beer after back out east.  

for friday there's something but he doesn't know for sure that it will happen (time will tell).

saturday afternoon  a wander around with minty et al. 

ok horsemouth was hoping that he was out of the anxiety (but he's still in it). phew. horsemouth has got to be honest, the winter has kicked his arse. he's a bit ragged. 

it is the year of the horse. it runs now until february the 6th 2027. the people born in that year are fire horses so more impulsive than usual.