This morning was horrible! At about mid day I was wandering around Leeds, sending angry text messages and feeling incredibly sorry for myself. Yet again there were a ridiculous number of technical issues and glitches in the edit suite and way too many people were standing around, scratching their heads and saying; “well, you should never have shot this film in high-def.” I left the building and very nearly left Leeds, saying I wouldn’t return until the technicians took the film as seriously as everyone else at the BBC. In a few hours things were sorted and we were able to continue. It has to be said that not a single day has passed in the edit where I haven’t lost at least 2 hours to problems apparently “beyond the control” of everyone. The technicians stand around saying, rather rudely, that they can't help, until someone kicks ass, or gets shirty and the problems are miraculously solved. That is not the way the world should work. I hate having to throw a barny just to get something done.
We started editing the third movement today, which can only be described as an embarrassment of riches, both sonically and visually. It’s absolutely not what anyone will expect from the symphony but it sounds incredible and the pictures are stunning; the most amazing are probably the shots of Circus Envy in the back of a pickup truck speeding down the middle of Spurn Point, butterflies fluttering around in the early morning sunshine.
I returned to my flat late tonight. I was at Purple Pro this evening listening to the final mixes, which incidentally sound brilliant. Hazel has been doing sterling work. On returning I stood in the lift with a guy who was obviouisly just coming home from a jog. I had decided to give myself a night off physical exercise, but he spurred me on. I'm sick and tired of having a face like a bloated football and need to get back in shape. Besides, I’ve been thoroughly enjoying the renewed energy I’ve had since my new regime began on Monday.
The first song that came on my ipod when I was running was Summer Night City by ABBA. Every time I hear that track, bolts of electricity start to surge through my body. If you don’t know the song, I urge you to watch its fascinating video here. It shimmers with a sort of 1970s, glitterball vibrancy and I consider it to be almost mystical! It makes me long to walk around the streets of Stockholm during the white nights of summer.
This is my 196th blog. My 200th blog will therefore happen on Monday and I've decided it’s time to hear from some of the people who read it. I would love to know what you guys are up to on that day... even if it’s just a few lines. I will publish anything that is sent to me before 10pm on the day and hopefully you and I will all have an opportunity to peek into a few others lives, however eccentric or banal, for one day only.
Pepys’ 196th diary entry (or wait, 1660 was a leap year, so does that mean he’d written 197?) was written on a Sunday. Pepys started the day with a lie-in, before heading off to Westminster Abbey to listen to a sermon delivered in Henry 7th’s chapel. He obviously enjoyed the experience, for he returned in the afternoon for more of the same, admitting that he spent most of his time ogling a woman there. In a slightly uncharacteristic concentration lapse, Pepys reports this fact for a second time at the end of his diary entry, proving, if proof were needed, that he tended to scribble brief notes on a daily basis before writing them up in full at a later date.
Sometime in the middle of this seemingly endless day, Pepys dined alone with Montagu, and discovered him to be something of an agnostic, which no doubt was something of an admission in those days. He then walked around the park until it got dark before returning to Elizabeth, who’d been confined to the house all day on account of her having packed all of her best clothes for the move. Pepys also admitted on this date that his patent had cost him L40, probably mostly in bribes and pay-offs. This was an enormous sum of money in those days and Pepys was worried...
I've just eaten a punnet of strawberries that taste like lettuce...
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