Of course I’ve woken up in the night and realised I haven’t blogged. It’s no real hardship. I’ve always liked this time in the morning. It feels very still and magical. All the senses are much more heightened. Cars continue to drift along the A1 outside whilst halogen street lights drifts in.
I’m watching the BBC Young Dancer of the year. This week focusses on contemporary dance, which seems like a load of nonsense, really, with its contractions, random body flinging and non-specific acting. I’m slightly irritated to see that four out of the five finalists are from London; proof positive for me that young people in London are blessed with opportunity whilst those in the sticks fade to grey.
It’s also interesting to note that there’s a large amount of ethnic diversity within the five finalists, in fact, the Northern lad is the only one I’d probably describe as white. I’m genuinely all for that, but am also aware that I’m not looking at a representation of the statistical ethnic make-up of the British Isles… Yet again, I’m left wondering if the disadvantaged white kids in Northern and Midlands schools are getting as much access to culture as those down south.
The other thing I’d say is that all five finalists (apart from the Northern lad) sound quite posh… another indication from my perspective that the divides in this country are not racial but class-based.
Anyhow… There are enough people standing on imaginary soap boxes at the moment, so that’s plenty enough philosophising from me.
There’s not a lot else to write about today, which was spent doing admin, writing press releases, entering another competition I haven’t got a hope of winning and repeatedly listening to one of PK’s rough mixes from the Brass soundtrack. Today’s song was the epic Prologue, which is twice the length of any song, and seemed to generate a huge number of notes despite my being hugely happy with it on first hearing.