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Mon 5th March 2012 |
Mon 5th March 2012 Played the Madame Claude open mic last night, and a fitting end to sober week came in the form of a shout of "I like drunk Glen" from the crowd to accompany a solemn keyboard performance of Sad Sad Rain On Aug 23rd. Seems one person prefers my unruly Seal covers & I'm not sure I blame 'em, can't please all de people all de time. |
Sun 4th March 2012 Well, sober week didn't roll smoothly into a sober weekend, that's for sure, and I'm pretty pissed off with myself about it. Felt kinda bad for not being in London on Fri with the crew for Jet Tea's birthday, so went out on my own little celebration around Berlin & right now don't remember a thing about it, except that it bulldozed on into Saturday & when I woke up in the early hours of this morning I was in a right old state. I look & feel worse than any hangover could inflict, makes me wanna make another sober week & do it right next time. Fuck it, that'll be an ongoing project regardless. Just logged into Facebook for the first time all weekend & found that a few people close to me seem to have had a feeling something was up yesterday, it's amazing how instinctive people can be when they're in tune with themselves & the world. |
Fri 2nd March 2012 Sober week may be about not drinking (so much), but it's been a week of abstinence in other ways also. At the risk of sounding like a pseudo spiritual cunt, may I note that as a monk gives up some elements of society, he opens himself up to other energies that for most of us remain generally latent until teased by those tendrils of art. The main body remains in the hermitage, beating unsteadily, the wondering limbs reach out into the hoary masses of the towns below to tickle wallets & souls; suckers high up on the thighs, suckling darkly. I had one evening without a drink & now I'm an octopus monk, jesus what's wrong with me. I don't like myself when I complain about some situation I've got into. I'm happy to accept the rewards when good times roll & the gambles pay off, so it's simply not fair to moan about the resulting complications, but I'll be a blinkered banana if I don't have a massive urge to go FUCK ME AARGGHH FUCK FUCKETTY FUCK FUCK every now & then. From my eight -broken-windowed shack on the mountainside of course. Not having a guitar, like (one) deciding to not use pornography, is forcing me to channel my energies elsewhere. Which is why I need a piano right now or I will surely rape my toaster. |
Thu 1st March 2012 Quiet night, but just goes to show that strange stuff doesn't only happen under the influence. Practised some piano with Eddie down in the basement of Madame Claude when a bunch of Nepalese students came down & started taking photos like we were ABBA participating in a secret reunion. Then met up with Daniel et al at Benny's Bar in Neukoln when a strange middle aged gay guy popped up offering us cake to celebrate his birthday (29th Feb) wherupon I said "So you're 12 years old today!" and he corrected me - 13 years old, born in 1960. Turned out to be a dancing teacher, so I asked for a lesson & before long we were foxtrotting about the bar knocking people's drinks over & looking ridiculous. This appears to have turned on a bearded old Portuguese guy who stumbled over & kissed me square on the mouth before I could get out of his grasp, and then he started getting offended when I backed off & he said something about the House Of The Rising Sun, so I picked up the guitar that this other guy was fucking about on & I played that song for him which soon developed into a bar singalong followed by a chorus of people joining in for a rendition of Stand By Me. Comparatively quiet night, fitting for sober week, but what what? The weekend already? Blow me a badger. |
Wed 29th Feb 2012 Bit of a debate going on right now with regard to the photo of the week up above there, and it appears I'm the only one on my side of the fence. The question is - Is that an actual giraffe sitting in a bar, or not? Answers & explanations on a postcard to me at my Uxbridge address if you know it or my e-mail address if you don't :p |
Tue 28th Feb 2012 |
Mon 27th Feb 2012 Just in the mood for writing, do forgive me. The trees outside my window give the impression of woodland, which is in reality a stretch of the term but in effect not so. Sunshine through the pines falls white & cleansing on my ridiculously large bed & purple satin sheets that I bought entirely by mistake & had to redecorate my room around. Hence the shiny plant. I painted the room to the theme of coffee, and one wall is divided by a line separating the brown & the cream coloured wall. The rug is borrowed from JaNa. There's a snare drum & stand which I bought for 20Euro from Dom, and propped up in the corner is William's bass, my Russian carved chessboard & the Nike's that Charles Goold gave me in New York last year. There's a big brown chair I bought for 25 Euro from the Sunday market at Mauerpark & a mirror that Chxxlie gave me for my birthday. There's a sign on my door that says "Bentornato Glen, this beer is waiting for you!!" a greeting from my absent Italian housemate Debbie, which is the first thing I saw when I came home. The soundtrack source is an iPod which was a gift from And. I am one lucky knusprig mutter, but still I'm a hairs breadth from heading straight back to London to try n settle with someone other than Jet Tea. Someone in addition to Jet Tea. And maybe a few other folk too. |
Mon 27th Feb 2012 Right, starting well, up at sunrise. I've a ton of crazy video footage from recent months that I can't edit & upload when I'm too unorganised & drunk, but when I'm sober I simply can't stand to watch the stuff; it's hilarious & hideous at the same time & pollutes my sobriety with just the thought of it. Dunno how I'm gonna find a way around that one, the idea of working on such a thing this morning makes me feel quite ill at the prospect. Still living off that bread & box of eggs I got on my first day back, the two eggs & two bottles of wine a day diet will need some revising if this week of sobriety stands a chance which, let's be frank, it doesn't. So, what does one do on a Springtime Monday without alcohol or a piano? Read a little John Irving (I've all but covered his works in recent months), head down to a cafe to upload this splash of shit & then? May look for a practice space with a piano, I wonder if Noisy rooms has one. Soon find out. Man that'd be amaaazin' x |
Sun 26th Feb 2012 Wow, well first weekend back in Berlin was kinda nuts but there's no point explaining it; I'm sure you get the picture by now - I'm such a cliche. Weirdly, although I don't have internet in my apartment, Skype works fine, so I'm contactable primarily on there for the time being, username: Glendabed. Took me all of one day to get back into the ole' Berlin sleeping schedule by waking up at midnight, downing a 2Euro bottle of wine & following Daniel's vague directions to a house party only to move onto the next house party within half hour in a train of 20 people as usual. But I don't wanna get drawn back into that life, weekend was all in aid of Adam Kahan's gallery opening & Birthday, and now that's over I can get back to my sober side-projects such as playin' chess & banging house-crossover remixes of pop tunes I've been working on. Oh and the JEEPS EP too. Plant has been renamed Arlene, as in Plant Arlene, as in Aunt Arlene from the Jason Trachtenburg song "Used Cars By Bob". Bob to rhyme with Saab, which beats Tori Amos rhyming Saab with Ireland. Speaking of Ireland, I'm gonna try get my ass to this event in Dublin early next month: 
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