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. 

an account of his journey

ok so a bit of a trip back in time.

caution. horsemouth is going to give you an account of his journey. 

he caught the bus at 0920. it came from a different direction from the usual. then to pontrilas then to hereford bus station. at hereford railway station the train was already waiting. horsemouth opted for the via worcester route (despite the near 50 minute wait at worcester). 

the smart people will tell him it would have been better to go via birmingham new street but there was a landslide on the line between worcester and birmingham and replacement buses and all that kaboodle.

he used the wait at worcester to go down to the cathedral precincts again (walking past a number of pretty cafe's and pubs in the side streets, it must be great in summer). he looked desultorily in two charity shops. 

so now he's on the 1212 out of foregate street getting into paddington at around 1423. then he will be journeying across the wen. he gave up his seat so a family could sit together, he pointed out to a girl that she'd left one of her phones behind. 

so he read the first story bride michael in the stories of robert blythe, one of his hereford purchases. he has plans to get around of few second hand bookshops on his visit (and around some book boxes if he can find any). he has brought a small collapsible bag to help transport his swag. he should probably call in at the old homestead to pick up anything that has survived the wreck. mainly he has come back to visit people. he's thinking he'll make more of an effort to get into town to visit the art. 

oxford already. 

ok horsemouth is hiding out in highams park. he is in the great wen. 

he thinks tomorrow (a wednesday) a wander round the local(ish) area - perhaps over to the william morris museum and the sally army. 

thursday a wander round with TG and then with howard. 

paul clark on monday. 

so he's up. there's a tangerine cat in a tree. 

the theory today is that horsemouth is off on holiday

the 17th of february, in 1872 in kilvert land, the tale of a forged will at vron ddu.  

the forgery is discovered and one of the forgers flees to america.

politics 

horsemouth has no idea where it is all going (and neither does anyone else he suspects). what will the results be of the various splits out of reform? not a lot he thinks - the name recognition is with farage (toad of toad hall) and then whatever party he is in (reformobexitoukip). 

in the triumvirate, the 3-headed god that you cast your vote on; 

your candidate - the party - the leader of the party

it doesn't matter who your candidate is - they could be a 17 year old or an ex-tory minister - the recognition is with farage and then reform (and in that order).

would people vote reform if it wasn't farage? (if it was back to tice for example?) probably not. or not as much. 

but farage has nothing to offer but civic nationalism (aka, racism) and a warmed up thatcherism. what thatcher did can not be redone. similarly what blair, brown, cameron, osborne (and the rest of that sick crew) did cannot be easily undone - in any event  the new labour/ neoliberalism world ended with the brexit vote and we are onto the next thing (gawdelpus). 

the maurice glasman interview is interesting. prior to watching it horsemouth had him pegged as a villain. the label blue-labour (or socially conservative labour) does not help, it is really much more about labour/ the working class and where the working class are, rather than where the labour party membership (and leftist creatures like horsemouth) would wish them to be.

the scale of the may wipeout just got bigger.

a lot rides on gorton and denton. matt goodwin seems to be more of an ethno-nationalist than a civic nationalist and that may count against him in an urban constituency. 

ok the theory today is that horsemouth is off on holiday - but he's not quite sure when he's going yet or how he's going to make it to hereford or abergavenny (depending on time and the best route) to get the train. he wants to be sure reinforcements are on their way before he heads off. 

looks like the route through birmingham is out (landslide onto the tracks between worcester and droitwich). that may make getting away earlier important. if he could get out the door early there's a bus. similarly last thing there's a bus. otherwise it's a walk to pontrilas. 

there would be a lift in but that means arriving in london later. (and so on)

'came back in rain' (horsemouth is ready for his holiday)

'after luncheon and a cold rain storm I started to walk to llan thomas. as I went up the long lands pitch a glorious sun burst, broke over mountain valley and river, and I hailed it as a good omen...

... came back in rain.' 

- the reverend kilvert, diaries, on this date in 1872.

kilvert misses daisy (the object of his visit) but borrows a book (thus giving him a reason to return another day to return it). the book is father ignatius' brother placidus. a book about founding monastic orders (in particular llantony priory - not far from kilvert or horsemouth).

ok a cock up with the garage door. horsemouth had it looking not too bad but then, while attempting to fix it, he has made it worse.  (he was literally screaming with frustration) it's a two person job he reckons. 

he got lucky the first time and then he undid that luck this time. 

horsemouth was feeling anxious and miserable. and then he cheered up. and then there was some bollocks with the fire not lighting properly and pretty soon horsemouth was properly fucked off again. he thinks he's over anxious and over tired and just a bit bored and fucked off (mostly with the weather).  

horsemouth proposes to go away on holiday and leave it for someone else to deal with. mind his guilt.

tuesday seems to be the day with sunshine. today and monday look rubbish and in fact after tuesday the weather looks pretty rubbish out in the wilds. in the wen it is similar (but monday 23rd seems decent).  

so horsemouth is off visiting and travelling 

thursday he thinks he's meeting up with howard. friday with enza and crew. the week is half term for howard (the week is half-term for loads of people) but still he's working the monday and the tuesday. 

thereafter howard is back to the grind and horsemouth will be continuing his visit to the wen until the friday. horsemouth plans to see people. to pick up a music notebook he left behind and such like. bookshops/ book-boxes - these he plans to visit. (horsemouth has been very low on consumption of late). 

it's the morning and horsemouth is up early. he slept well having eventually sorted out his head. he needs a holiday.