so it looks like the next musicians of bremen recording campaign will begin 8th of august - when howard's work has finished and he's had a week off to recover. here's the current version of time (if time was a lie). howard was wondering what theme he's whistling here and will doubtless take it down when he's found out. any ideas? (horsemouth realises as he types this that this is not much of an incentive).
of course time isn't a lie. of course time isn't a lie. it can lie heavy. or it can flash past your eyes like the memories of a drowning man, it can tap you on the shoulder when the party is in full swing.
outside it's a beautiful morning (so beautiful horsemouth thinks it might be safe to get some of his clothes washed - he brought spare clothes stuffed in his guitar cases). his dad is already out on the table outside sat in shorts, drinking tea and doing the crossword. there's a lot of birdlife round here (horsemouth's parents feed the birds).
horsemouth went for a walk on the common and at some point he ran up the drive from the road (his parents live halfway up a hill) for exercise.
last night horsemouth was carrying on reading freya stark (both the coast of incense and a winter in arabia).
there was a disagreement on an expedition and her editors are trying to make her take out events and her reactions to them. the debate has spilled over unhelpfully.
'it is a curious thing how any personal feeling vanishes and only the pleasure of creating a harmonious whole remains...'
this is of course one of the major pleasures of songwriting. songwriting as processing.
'I agree about the delight in detail for its own sake - a pure form of happiness; I think too that it is a mistake to think one sort of work intrinsically superior to another.'
today. breakfast a walk on the common. some reading. probably a walk with his mother in the valley. then more reading and farting about on the internet. bed.
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