write about anything ('the conversation took place via email')

from the 'backwards'  research guide for writers by sonya huber. 

this is the kind of slippage that is interesting.  

horsemouth is in that preparing to travel mode. he always finds this situation unsatisfying. plus he must 'pack' (and he has a horror of excess luggage). anyway (enough of the horrors of travel) he has his coffee. remind him to turn down the heating in his room before he goes but not to totally turn it off (he doesn't want to return to damp). 

there's a certain amount of stress - for example horsemouth wants to take care of some tax bollocks while away, there is communal endeavour stuff (that may have to be handled in a zoom meeting) etc.

a little spider has  just made it across the valance. horsemouth wants to time it so that he gets to the railway station with enough time to buy a ticket on the first train out (the first train he can travel on with the cheaper tickets). there is often some confusion as to which train this is with the ticket machines saying one thing ('saying') and the guards announcements on the train saying another. (like wtaf!). 

the book horsemouth has bought is not a nice write your own autobiography book but a a nasty generate your own research question book. it is rather too good at replicating that feeling of blankness and stuckedness that people feel when asked to write about anything.

he's still in doubt as whether to take it or not. you will remember that horsemouth had an ethics of life  writing book on the go for a while - that book was similarly dull (being written in the academic style) but horsemouth felt warmly towards it). . 

'the dust of all ruined things' (on keeping notebooks)

clark ashton smith kept a notebook with, among other things, ideas for stories in it. such as the following.

item 81 (plot germ) - 'an expedition sent from the earth to the extinct sun, for the purpose of rekindling it by means of atomic fission...'  horsemouth likes this story - he lies the notion of dead things being brought (properly) back to life.

like a lot of pulp authors ashton smith wrote a wide range of material - horsemouth hadn't realised frederic brown wrote science fiction as well as detective fiction. 

ashton smith's  notebook was later laboriously copied out and published as 'the blackbook'. horsemouth likes this he likes the idea of writers keeping notebooks (rather than all fiction coming through fully formed from genius and all ideas being effortlessly remembered).

the good news is that horsemouth has found his hat. (where was it? where he left it.) the mediocre news is that it probably needs a wash. 

steffen basho-junghans has died. horsemouth saw him play once (at a robbie basho tribute gig/ film showing of voice of the eagle at cafe OTO). he was (at that gig) playing more the free-improv side of it than the finger-picked guitar side of things. he was possibly robbie basho's greatest fan. 

30 years ago patrick keiller started filming london - it came out in 1994 (and was followed by robinson in space).  there's a showing of the film and a discussion on the 11th (but horsemouth will be out of town already). horsemouth (you will remember) re-watched it recently. it is of its time but that was a very formative time for horsemouth - it was when he decided to abandon politics and cast himself free of his previous moorings, to go off and explore the city.. 

yesterday a fucking disaster of a day in the meat world (so much for exploring the city, horsemouth is out of practice). horsemouth forgot to tap in causing unnecessary travel expense. he then couldn't find any record shops (all the big ones have vanished). train delays on the way back. fuck it all. wandering horsemouth is fine with. going to do specific tasks/ find specific things, he finds stressful.

horsemouth is still struggling with some seasonal gringe (he no longer has the alibi of work). now he's worried that when the tasks that have been stressing him out complete he will be confronted by the emptiness of his existence (make wind blowing tumble weed noises now). rather than relief he will feel existential horror (possibly he's been reading too much h.p.lovecraft and clark ashton smith). perhaps the implications of the last 30 years of history since london aka. his life  are finally dawning on him.

previously his reaction to getting old was yee-hah forward to the bus pass but recently he realised that no he is actually getting old, that time is passing. he watched the bart's covid cruise episode of the simpsons (bart extends the cruise holiday the family are on by faking a worldwide pandemic in the (perhaps mistaken) belief that these will be the best days of his life and that, unless he acts, they will soon be over). 

later he watched toby jones in a version of conrad's the secret agent -  he has bigger problems than horsemouth he has accidentally killed the wife's idiot brother attempting to blow up greenwich observatory and the police know it is him. which ever way you turn for him it looks shit. 

today. last full day in the seaside towns for a bit. 

space is ridged/ hergest deep

 horsemouth's hat seems to have gone missing (tragedy).

ah well. he's up he's had his coffee (ok he has a little left). he has a spare hat (but it's not as good). 

horsemouth is listening to the james blackshaw (it reminds him of space is deep for some reason or maybe hergest ridge  by mike oldfield). 

at one point horsemouth had plans to do some hermeto pascoal  style ambient percussion on the start of one of his pieces (the rainstick, the martian death rattle (a golf ball in a pringles container), john's thumb piano, TG's water bottle semi-filled with water and rotated) 

ok problems Publishing post... horsemouth is not so bothered Update failed. he can always copy the test into a textfile and return to it later. 

yesterday a visit over to TG's to drop off the keys, later a walk up the hill to ayesha for a moan about the current political situation (which curiously enough cheered him up), ayesha fed him (baked stuffed peppers that was good) and afterwards cake.  

later a similar conversation about the current political situation with his mum (but from the other side).

and the media - more clark ashton smith, a 1958 noir film the screaming mimi with anita ekberg, lifted from a a fredric brown novel. the inspiration for dario argento's the bird with the crystal plumage apparently. (horsemouth used to have a four novel compilation of his - including the one that is the basis for rear window). horsemouth had a few of these black box  four crime novel packages -  jim thompson, jerome charyn (the isaac novels) etc.

horsemouth is keen to get out of town early to avoid the rail strikes. he needs to hunt down a joan armatrading record (and then he thinks he is ready). remind horsemouth to test before he goes. he has a cold clearly (but he doesn''t think it is anything else). he doesn't want to be a typhoid mary exporting the plague to his aged parents. 

horsemouth and the land that time forgot (grass grows on motorways)

horsemouth is back from visiting howard in far off east ham. they headed off almost immediately to the pub with the pizza (2 pints, a pizza and a carbonara) followed by 2 more at the big empty pub on the corner (where they played some pool). there (very wisely) they called a halt. 

howard is tired but on good form. he is back from madrid over half-term (having seen maria and tyson et al. and grassed over motorways).

howard wanted a psychology book for a sculpture (you know the sort of thing - draw on the pages - william kentridge etc.) horsemouth took a selection from his collection - the bluffers guide to  winnicott seemed the best, old, slightly dirty, full of foldings over, underlinings  and post-it notes. quite why it had to be a psychology book horsemouth is not clear (but it's as good a guide to selection as anything). 

when he got back in horsemouth just caught the end of the land that time forgot on tv. susan penhaligon, part written by michael moorcock, doug mc clure. after that he snoozed a bit, read some clark ashton smith and went to bed early. 

he is up this morning. it is curiously cold. grey skies. later a walk. horsemouth should plug the phone in so it recharges. 

'well done. very brave. let's do the difficult stuff.'

so horsemouth rehearses it. memories have returned to assail him (memories and things left unsaid). 

yesterday horsemouth went for a wander and is now back with you. 

horsemouth had forgotten (again) that it was bandcamp friday. for once horsemouth recommended  his own (well, musicians of bremen) stuff. (despite the fact that he thinks that everyone who is going to buy it has bought it all already).

he was listening to james blackshaw and reading clark ashton smith the dark eidolon (this time in a william beckford/ oriental despot  'vathek' mode). 

last night he wandered over to mike and lou's (lou has a gig tonight down at waterintobeer please go).  they fed him and there was a small can of beer (most civilised). horsemouth was after books (well a book). it looks lie the right book.

later horsemouth is due to wander over to howard's - a student of his wants a 'psychology' book for a sculpture so horsemouth will take a selection from his collection - or maybe howard is wandering over here. (horsemouth is not convinced - any actual book placed in a sculpture will unbalance the work he feels, not in a literal way perhaps but as a balance of meaning, but hey what does he know). 

it's the morning when horsemouth types this. cold, rainy and grey. he touches the radiators to make sure that they are on. he doesn't feel uninspired (but he doesn't feel very inspired either). new things refuse to come. ho hum. horsemouth would lie to be making more music but it's proving elusive.

horsemouth has got it down on paper (and he's done some walking)

horsemouth is not entirely sure when the last day for these things is but soon his mixcloud mixes will be gone so he urges you to get and listen to them now (the better to miss them when they are gone). horsemouth is glad to be back with you  having suffered the blue screen of death this morning. eventually his brave and plucky little laptop sorted itself out (god bless you little computer you have done it again). horsemouth was greatly afeared that, 

'this will be the last entry in my journal, and the last writing I shall ever do.' - journal of giles angarth, 13th august 1930 from clark ashton smith's the singing flame finished january 15th 1931.

horsemouth usually does his writing (ok his typing) in the morning or at night. today (yesterday by the time you read this - or possibly longer) he is doing it in the afternoon.

this is the advantage of internet outages - there is nothing better to be done (or merely looked at) than to write. (wait let him try connecting again).

horsemouth physically writes (i.e. pen on paper) almost nothing these days. for months he barely had a functioning pen (not wanting to go out and buy one). his diary is full of doodles, the odd quote, lists and figures. he also doesn't photograph his doodles any more (nor desecrate copies of the city am). 

horsemouth was just reading some of his earlier prose. he wrote much better then (largely because he was reading loads of beautiful prose in university libraries). the university lecturers have been marching (even the philosophers).

his meet up with catastro/FILLE on sunday has popped. there's a possible meeting with howard saturday, howard wants horsemouth to bring some psychology books for use in a student's sculpture. last night a meeting with (an)tony and rodrigo about the decarbonisation (a walk there and a walk back - so maybe about 4 miles all told - and a bag of chips (2.20)). horsemouth has been getting in some walks this week. (down  to bow monday, back from islington tuesday, down to the office and back from bethnal green wednesday, down to the office and back thursday - easily 20 plus miles all in)..

.   

fate tried to save him (but his will was too strong)

there (phew) horsemouth has got it down on paper (as it were). it was a memorable phrase in a morning dream. 

on his (online) way here  horsemouth also noticed the phrase 'horsemouth the scrivener' (by robert lawson) written in response to horsemouth's previous post, an attempted explanation (aka. kvetching) about  employment.

there were several occasions (when horsemouth's employers  were unwise enough to give him direct instruction) when he was obliged to use the phrase 'I would prefer not to.' (did he mention bad management as another reason for abandoning 'work'?). 

horsemouth does not advise doing a bartleby - he advises accommodation with the forces of injustice sufficient to ensure survival in adequate comfort. he knows this isn't brave or principled (he can hear sartre and de beauvoir tsking  from their cafe table) but it works. bartleby's will was too strong. 

barteby was of course big with the people horsemouth knew, likewise kafka's  story about the ape. 

in retrospect horsemouth knew the gig was up when work appointed a sensible, friendly, helpful manager (instead of someone out of the department). horsemouth regrets that he was a difficult employee but he was often knackered and stressed, busy fitting the square pegs of deaf students into the round holes of hearing education.  

horsemouth went to the last  meeting of the communal endeavour of the year (followed by pizza).      

in general he is against any junket but it has been a hard year. it was a pleasant meal (his waistline is considerably expanded).  horsemouth wonders what the damage is. he was seen (by myk zeitlin) passing infront of hackney town hall on his way back at 11.30. 

this evening another meeting (the decarbonisation - pat and antony and hopefully some others - they are sneaking up on half the households told). friday mike T  meet up. saturday maybe howard. sunday ayesha and then catastro/FILLE. thereon horsemouth is free to peg it off into the countryside - he's turned down a cat-sitting appointment. 

for the rest of today horsemouth doesn't know (he suspects a walk and a write).

ok horsemouth is not entirely sure when the last day for these things is but soon his mixcloud mixes will be gone so he urges you to get and listen to them now (the better to miss them when they are gone).