I have a list of things to do which is steadily getting shorter, although today it felt like I was adding as much to bottom as I was striking from the top. The thought started to make my tummy feel a bit funny. Like I was walking on an endless treadmill. I paid my tax; everything I owed for last year, and by decree, half of this year’s, based on last year's figures, which is irritating and pathetic, especially as it well-and-truly wiped me out. I now have less than a thousand pounds to my name, which is less than at any point since I worked as a barman at the Royal Court Theatre. Who says art pays?!
I’m juggling all manner of tasks. I have to learn the piano parts that I’ve blithely agreed to play to bring studio costs down on Monday. I have to make scores of copies of DVDs and CDs for potential investors for the recording of the Requiem. I have to find potential investors for the recording of the Requiem. I have to find the contact details for these potential investors and I have absolutely no idea where to start! The majority of my work has been in telly, which always funds itself. Some of the theatre luvvies I know have black books filled to the brim with the numbers of little old ladies with more money than sense. They guard their books with their lives, because once you find a wealthy patron, it’s foolish to let them go - and even more foolish to share them with someone equally deserving. I’ve never needed (or wanted) to go to the events where these patron types hang out, having never been one for schmoozing and having always kidded myself that my music does the talking.
I must keep telling myself that I’m not looking for handouts, however. This is a genuine opportunity to invest in something which could well make a whole heap of money. We’ve already got a couple of well-known people making cameo appearances on the recording, and I’m in talks with a number of other fascinating singers...
So if anyone reading this knows wealthy people who might like to invest a grand in the classical release of the decade, I would be more than happy to send them a pack which tells them everything they need to know.
Sunday 26th January 1662 found Pepys in a contemplative mood. He says it so much better than I ever could:
It having been a very fine clear frosty day- God send us more of them - for the warm weather all this winter makes us fear a sick summer. But thanks be to God, since my leaving drinking of wine, I do find myself much better and do mind my business better, and do spend less money, and less time lost in idle company.
Incidentally, can anyone tell me what happened to the winter this year? I can’t remember a single cold day...