It was overcast and chilly in Hove this morning, and the sea, which yesterday had been a sparkling shade of indigo, was suddenly elephant grey. I guess coast-dwelling folk must become fairly immune to the myriad changes the sea makes over the seasons. It never ceases to amaze me.
We spent a whopping eight solid hours simply working on one number, Letters, today. Eight hours! It's by far the most complicated number vocally, and one which it was vital to get right... but, eight hours!
Whilst PK did his thing, and between the moments when my ears were needed, I was able to catch up on some admin. I had to register all the songs with PPL, and then decided to clear out some of the 4000+ emails which have accumulated in my inbox over the last manic period, most of which is spam. I found some fairly interesting ways of locating large pools of spam emails in my inbox by searching for key words like "protection" "diet" "warranty" and "loans." The latter netted me about four hundred spam emails which I was able to delete with a rather satisfying click of a single button!
The word "woodwork" was also fairy lucrative, for some reason. Perhaps spam is trying to tell me to be more butch!!
...
It's midnight and we're still going. Nathan has offered to drive down from London to pick me up because I have filming first thing which I can't miss. I'm going to look like an addict on screen; all dark eyes and a puffy face. Right now, my feet feel all itchy and my heart is pounding. There's so much jeopardy here: will we finish before PK's ears die? Will we fall asleep before delivering the files? They're due in at 10am.
At 1.45am, Nathan arrived. Sadly, he walked in at the most stressful moment in the week so far. PK had hit a brick wall, having worked on the album without pausing since 7am, almost twenty four hours ago. Neither of us could hear anything but swirling, swishing sounds.
At 2.15am, we reached something of a crisis point, and I went for a walk through the darkened streets of West Worthing. The rain on the roads was reflecting traffic lights and shop window displays, and everything was silent but for the odd passing car, and a person in a white van wearing Hi-viz, who seemed to be emptying the council rubbish bins.
I don't think anyone will ever have any concept of how difficult this week has been, trapped in a loft, deconstructing and reconstructing song after song; burying dodgy performances, sloppy tuning and trying to make up for hastily recorded music which is lacking certain frequencies. I can safely say this is the most devastatingly punishing and gruelling schedule I've ever endured.
2.54am. I smell. Really badly. My back is killing me. My shoulder ache. My eyes are stinging. There's a funny taste in my mouth and I have a headache. PK is dead to the world. We've nearly finished the mix of the last number, but then starts the process of checking everything through and getting it ready for mastering...
3.45am. My ears have given up on me and all the sounds are swimming from one ear to another. Thank God Nathan is here with his fresher ears. We're listening to On The Shelf, and the bass line seems to be effecting my ear drums in ever-more peculiar ways. It's like they keep popping or something. I feel like I've been at a rave.
4.20am and things are improving, largely because we can see a chink of light at the end of the corridor. And I don't just think it's the arrival of dawn. Nathan is listening to I Miss the Music on headphones, whilst it's formatted for the mastering process. It's the ninth song we've completed.
5am. We've sent the Prologue on its way and are about to listen to You'll Always Have a Friend. Panic has set in a little, not least because dawn has broken, I'm feeling very hungry, my eyes are closing and I know Barnbow Lassies is on its way, which is the song which has traditionally given us the most grief.
5.30am. We're midway through Barnbow and I officially like the song again. Mania has set in and I'm dancing the Charleston. PK did some work on the song before I arrived this morning/yesterday, and seems to have saved it in a genius-like way. My dread was misplaced!
6.25am. Nathan and PK are putting final touches to No Man's Land, the last number in the show, and the last to be mixed and sent off to the masterers. They're actually working on the show's button - the very last note - and have been doing so for the last ten minutes. That's attention to detail for you. Thank God, really. All my functions have packed in. In less than three hours I'm expected to be in London and making sense in a television interview. No chance. None whatsoever. I haven't done an all nighter for years.
Friday, 15 May 2015
Thursday, 14 May 2015
Masters of the universe
The excrement hit the proverbial device for creating a current of air this morning when it turned out that my decision to postpone the mastering by two days meant that we lost the masterer I'd booked and we were left scrambling about for someone else. We all know that desperation makes people raise their prices and some of the quotes I was receiving for "last minute" mastering were quite outrageous. I spent the morning whilst mixing, emailing various masterers who were coming up with quotes which ranged from £300 to £1300 to master the album, but at around noon I committed to someone who came strongly recommended as a guy who specialises in classical music mastering, which I thought felt right. I was thrilled to find out that my CD manufacturer knows him as well and says he'll do a great job, so onwards and upwards.
It was a tough old day, however, and we're still three numbers shy of completion, which just seems insane. A number of the songs will need a second mix as well. It's funny. You can tell the numbers that the performers enjoyed, or found easy enough to do well. But there's some very sloppy playing (and singing) in places, which we're doing our best to mask, but it has the slight effect of leaving a sort of squawking mud in the midst of an otherwise perfectly decent take! The process of mixing these numbers requires patience and space between hearings... We do a bit of work, put the song away for a bit and then return when we've done something else.
It's been a tough day for us both. Tiring beyond words. I woke up with itchy eyes which never went away. My phone broke. It only fell about 30cm, but the screen smashed, which I thought was a touch dull.
We had our lunch in the front garden. Halloumi and pepper sandwiches care of Olivia. It was a beacon of sunshine in an otherwise troubling day.
Right. I'm off to sleep. I can't keep my eyes open. Sleep well everyone. See you tomorrow...
It was a tough old day, however, and we're still three numbers shy of completion, which just seems insane. A number of the songs will need a second mix as well. It's funny. You can tell the numbers that the performers enjoyed, or found easy enough to do well. But there's some very sloppy playing (and singing) in places, which we're doing our best to mask, but it has the slight effect of leaving a sort of squawking mud in the midst of an otherwise perfectly decent take! The process of mixing these numbers requires patience and space between hearings... We do a bit of work, put the song away for a bit and then return when we've done something else.
It's been a tough day for us both. Tiring beyond words. I woke up with itchy eyes which never went away. My phone broke. It only fell about 30cm, but the screen smashed, which I thought was a touch dull.
We had our lunch in the front garden. Halloumi and pepper sandwiches care of Olivia. It was a beacon of sunshine in an otherwise troubling day.
Right. I'm off to sleep. I can't keep my eyes open. Sleep well everyone. See you tomorrow...
Wednesday, 13 May 2015
Over the top
As I walked from Fiona's house to Hove Station this morning, I felt a little like I was going over the top. Today was destined to be a long, somewhat dangerous, uphill climb, which would see us shot at by enemy snipers and blinded by the sun...
The day was long, deeply stressful and in the end, not quite the success we'd hoped it would be. We worked solidly for twelve hours with two short breaks for delicious food provided by PK's Olivia. The thing about sound work is that you simply can't do it for too long. The ears start playing tricks and everything begins to sound really weird.
Our revised deadline for finishing the mixes was tomorrow morning. We're plainly going to miss that, but frankly I would miss every deadline in the world for an album which everyone feels proud of. We're cusping at the moment on the edge of something remarkable, and I can't jeopardise that for the sake of a few days, because without careful attention our amazing album could drift into the world of just not being that good. I also don't want to kill PK who hasn't slept for a week just because of Brass and the mammoth aural task it's presented him with.
So, anyway, instead of working through the night, I pulled the plug on the session at 10pm, postponed the mastering, cancelled all my London meetings tomorrow (for a second day) and went back to Fiona's, wondering if the T-shirt I bought yesterday would do for another day!
I feel greatly relieved if I'm honest - although still hugely stressed because we're still not quite out of the trees. I have to deal with the issue that the physical CDs might not actually be ready for our special launch party... I have to keep telling myself that everyone will still be able to hear the tracks on a stereo at the party, and, frankly, delayed-gratification has featured rather strongly in the journey towards the completion of this CD!
So anyway, I'm downloading the rushes from Sunday's shoot, watching Only Connect on something like Dave, and before I know it, I'll be asleep...
Philippa called from A and E last night, where she'd taken her daughter, my goddaughter, Silver, who had a rash and a high temperature. Thankfully there doesn't seem to be anything badly wrong. In fact, Philippa sent me a text at about 2am, which was so amusing, I thought it ought to be quoted in full...
"Silver totally fine. No meningitis or blood tests. She was delighted with the whole experience and proudly told the young man doctor "mummy's got some nice boobs." When he asked the name of her teddy bear she replied 'Boiled'"!!
The day was long, deeply stressful and in the end, not quite the success we'd hoped it would be. We worked solidly for twelve hours with two short breaks for delicious food provided by PK's Olivia. The thing about sound work is that you simply can't do it for too long. The ears start playing tricks and everything begins to sound really weird.
Our revised deadline for finishing the mixes was tomorrow morning. We're plainly going to miss that, but frankly I would miss every deadline in the world for an album which everyone feels proud of. We're cusping at the moment on the edge of something remarkable, and I can't jeopardise that for the sake of a few days, because without careful attention our amazing album could drift into the world of just not being that good. I also don't want to kill PK who hasn't slept for a week just because of Brass and the mammoth aural task it's presented him with.
So, anyway, instead of working through the night, I pulled the plug on the session at 10pm, postponed the mastering, cancelled all my London meetings tomorrow (for a second day) and went back to Fiona's, wondering if the T-shirt I bought yesterday would do for another day!
I feel greatly relieved if I'm honest - although still hugely stressed because we're still not quite out of the trees. I have to deal with the issue that the physical CDs might not actually be ready for our special launch party... I have to keep telling myself that everyone will still be able to hear the tracks on a stereo at the party, and, frankly, delayed-gratification has featured rather strongly in the journey towards the completion of this CD!
So anyway, I'm downloading the rushes from Sunday's shoot, watching Only Connect on something like Dave, and before I know it, I'll be asleep...
Philippa called from A and E last night, where she'd taken her daughter, my goddaughter, Silver, who had a rash and a high temperature. Thankfully there doesn't seem to be anything badly wrong. In fact, Philippa sent me a text at about 2am, which was so amusing, I thought it ought to be quoted in full...
"Silver totally fine. No meningitis or blood tests. She was delighted with the whole experience and proudly told the young man doctor "mummy's got some nice boobs." When he asked the name of her teddy bear she replied 'Boiled'"!!
Monday, 11 May 2015
Interview hell!
I had three hours' sleep last night, which, added to the four I had the night before, and the five I had the night before that adds up to profound insanity. I've felt very strange all day: A sensation which is strangely reminiscent of being hung over, even though I didn't drink a drop last night...
I decided, for safety reasons, to take a train down to Brighton instead of driving. So at six am, hands shaking like an addict, I was on the phone to some call centre in India, trying to ascertain whether an early train to Brighton would break the bank.
The train journey was fairly hideous. I received a phone call from BBC Radio York, who wanted to do a follow-up BAFTA interview, which, on the train and on a mobile phone, was always going to go catastrophically wrong. It was no surprise, therefore, when I lost reception mid-interview. No doubt the whole of Yorkshire heard me splutteringly telling the interviewer that I couldn't hear her, before sighing and swearing to myself. It's probably just as well the interview was terminated. I didn't win, so she'd no doubt have asked about the celebrities who were present at the party, and I'd have had to make something up more interesting than the fact that I'd eaten Danny Dyer's pudding after he left! Actually, that's not a bad anecdote is it?!
Anyway, on the train on the way down, I tried to get my head around the enormity of the task we had in front of us today. The plan was to finish mixing Brass tracks, but that was never going to happen without a ludicrous and highly stressful scramble, which would have lowered standards all round... So I took a deep breath, called the masterer and the CD manufacturers, cancelled everything in my diary tomorrow and decided to stay down here an extra day.
It turns out I was absolutely right to do so. We managed another five songs today but have three to complete tomorrow, and then, of course, all the rest to double check and tweak... Some of them need overhauls. We'd never have got it done. It would have been hell on earth.
I finished the session, went to Marks and Spencer to buy a pair of socks, a T-shirt and some boxers, bought a toothbrush and deodorant and am currently sitting, like a monged-out lemon, on Fiona's sofa, whilst Fiona double-stops arpeggios on the violin in her bedroom next door!
I am overdosing on caffeine to stay awake as long as I need to tonight,
but it's not just my joints, bones and brain which are knackered. My ears have stopped working too!
Billy Whistle and Bafta Whafta
I'm at the BAFTA's! We're sitting in a ball room surrounded by pink palms, camply-scented flowers and lots of celebrities shrieking and patting each other's backs!
We didn't win. Of course we didn't, although many people have a theory that we came second. That's what they always say though isn't it? It's like agents who tell their clients they got through to the last two. It does no harm to tell that particular white lie!
This evening's glitzy setting couldn't be any more different from where I've been all day...
We've been shooting the promo video for Billy Whistle with all but three of the original NYMT cast of Brass.
The day started at 6am. Jo Emery slept soundly in our loft whilst Nathan, Josh and I rushed about pulling clothes on and trying to swallow down bowls of Shreddies... Or Malted Wheeties as they're called in Aldi!
Rosie joined us, we piled in the car and sailed across North London to Abney Park cemetery where we spent the first part of the morning filming musicians and the girls from the cast performing their sequences in amongst the gravestones. I had to do a radio interview with BBC York which was sabotaged by ludicrously loud birdsong. They wanted to talk about the BAFTAs but I made sure the listeners knew I was filming a sequence from a musical set in Yorkshire!
I was amazed by how luminous some of the girls were on camera. I suppose it's not altogether surprising. A year in film casting, working with the adorable Shaheen Baig (whom I just met up with at the BAFTAs) taught me to identify faces which would "pop" on camera. I had very specific visual casting requirements for Brass which I've only just realised were the product of this.
We drove in convoy to a replica First World War trench in farmland around Gatwick, where it was the turn of the lads to film their sequences, which they did with considerably professionalism and aplomb. They're such a special group of lads and they looked remarkable in their costumes all crammed into the trench. I felt like a proud grandfather! A great deal of the footage we shot was somewhere between epic and wonderful. The sun shone all day, Cameraman Keith, was a joy... As ever. We've worked together three times now, on Songs From Hattersley and A Symphony for Yorkshire and I was unbelievably thrilled when he told me he was able to do this particular project.
Channel 4 had laid on a car to take me from the trench to Central London for the awards. Nathan had left earlier to make sure he was there in good time. I thought I was going to miss the ceremony (and was happy to do so for the sake of our film), but the shoot ended early and I was able to get to the BAFTAs with enough time to get royally bored with award announcement after award announcement! When I looked down, I realised my shoes were covered in mud and my hands were covered in charcoal... Ah! The life of a film director!
When we came to collect our own car, which Nathan had parked outside City Lit, we found it utterly blocked in by some turd who'd parked like a complete dick. Our only escape route involved driving completely up onto the pavement, but we managed to get ourselves wedged between a brick wall and a ten foot-high controlled parking sign, which, low and behold, fell down when I pulled at it to see if it had any give! Problem solved in terms of Nathan's car, but should street signs collapse when prodded? Um...
We didn't win. Of course we didn't, although many people have a theory that we came second. That's what they always say though isn't it? It's like agents who tell their clients they got through to the last two. It does no harm to tell that particular white lie!
This evening's glitzy setting couldn't be any more different from where I've been all day...
We've been shooting the promo video for Billy Whistle with all but three of the original NYMT cast of Brass.
The day started at 6am. Jo Emery slept soundly in our loft whilst Nathan, Josh and I rushed about pulling clothes on and trying to swallow down bowls of Shreddies... Or Malted Wheeties as they're called in Aldi!
Rosie joined us, we piled in the car and sailed across North London to Abney Park cemetery where we spent the first part of the morning filming musicians and the girls from the cast performing their sequences in amongst the gravestones. I had to do a radio interview with BBC York which was sabotaged by ludicrously loud birdsong. They wanted to talk about the BAFTAs but I made sure the listeners knew I was filming a sequence from a musical set in Yorkshire!
I was amazed by how luminous some of the girls were on camera. I suppose it's not altogether surprising. A year in film casting, working with the adorable Shaheen Baig (whom I just met up with at the BAFTAs) taught me to identify faces which would "pop" on camera. I had very specific visual casting requirements for Brass which I've only just realised were the product of this.
We drove in convoy to a replica First World War trench in farmland around Gatwick, where it was the turn of the lads to film their sequences, which they did with considerably professionalism and aplomb. They're such a special group of lads and they looked remarkable in their costumes all crammed into the trench. I felt like a proud grandfather! A great deal of the footage we shot was somewhere between epic and wonderful. The sun shone all day, Cameraman Keith, was a joy... As ever. We've worked together three times now, on Songs From Hattersley and A Symphony for Yorkshire and I was unbelievably thrilled when he told me he was able to do this particular project.
Channel 4 had laid on a car to take me from the trench to Central London for the awards. Nathan had left earlier to make sure he was there in good time. I thought I was going to miss the ceremony (and was happy to do so for the sake of our film), but the shoot ended early and I was able to get to the BAFTAs with enough time to get royally bored with award announcement after award announcement! When I looked down, I realised my shoes were covered in mud and my hands were covered in charcoal... Ah! The life of a film director!
When we came to collect our own car, which Nathan had parked outside City Lit, we found it utterly blocked in by some turd who'd parked like a complete dick. Our only escape route involved driving completely up onto the pavement, but we managed to get ourselves wedged between a brick wall and a ten foot-high controlled parking sign, which, low and behold, fell down when I pulled at it to see if it had any give! Problem solved in terms of Nathan's car, but should street signs collapse when prodded? Um...
Sunday, 10 May 2015
Let's Get Quizzical
Today's been manic. Utterly and profoundly manic. Good manic, I reckon, but I also smell a bit manic, which is considerably less appealing...
We had our music quiz today. It was all rather lovely, and I'm proud to say we made £362 of the £500 we need to release the album, so it was worth the hard graft and the sleepless nights. My only slight disappointment was that my stereo system seems to have broken and was spewing out music at about half its usual volume, so it all got a bit uncomfortable in the rounds which required people to listen to the subtleties of a vocal performance to identify a singer. Anyway, the quizzers were hugely understanding and I'm sure everyone had a fabulous time.
The turn out was pretty good considering how bad we thought it was going to be. I was disappointed that none of the Fleet Singers made it along, primarily because the quiz was happening on their patch. I would have liked a few more of the Brass cast there as well, but top marks to Josef, Ben, Tom, Josh and Harry who represented the show and actually managed to come second over all, which I thought was deeply impressive considering they had the youngest average age! They got to be on a team with internet sensation and singing impersonator, Christina Bianco, who came with the lovely Joe from the Rebel Chorus, so I think they left feeling like they'd won first prize!
As it happened, my family's team won! Slightly embarrassing, but I assure you that I was being incredibly strict with the marking and giving no preferential treatment.
We had television cameras there, who were shooting footage for the project we're hoping to make towards the end of the year. I can't really talk about details. Neither could I tell anyone there why someone was coming up to them asking what their favourite musical was, and why... I assure you it will all make sense, as and when we get the green light...
After the quiz we went off to The Lord Palmerston pub half way up Dartmouth Park Hill and had some food and a pint of lemonade and lime. Bizarrely, Ed Miliband was sitting on the next door table with a group of friends. I think we were all a bit shocked and saddened to see him. We all agreed he looked a little haunted. Life is so peculiar isn't it? One day you're wondering if you're going to be the next British prime minister, the next you're in a North London pub, without a job, licking your wounds, wondering why it all went so wrong...
At sunset, Nathan, Abbie, Ian, Josh, Meriel, Edward, Sascha, my parents and I walked to the top of Parliament Hill and peered down across the magnificent views of London with a warm wisteria-scented spring breeze rustling our hair. It turns out that there could have been no nicer place to be at that particular time on a day like today. I love that place more than words can say. Whatever the weather.
We came home and switched on the telly to find our mate, Alison Jiear, mega-acing her audition for Britain's Got Talent. If you're wondering why you know the name, it's because Ali sang the song Yellow at our wedding. She also recorded the demo for the Eurovision song we wrote that the BBC didn't even rate enough to put through to the second round! They'll learn to listen to me one day...
Anyway. We've got a house full tonight. My mate Jo is staying with us. As is Josh, who is assisting me on tomorrow's shoot. The weather has held off, and it looks like it might be rather pleasant tomorrow, so everything seems to be slotting into place. I have two more insanely busy days to get through before I can stop and take stock of my life and if you thought today sounded hectic, you just wait til you hear about tomorrow!!
We had our music quiz today. It was all rather lovely, and I'm proud to say we made £362 of the £500 we need to release the album, so it was worth the hard graft and the sleepless nights. My only slight disappointment was that my stereo system seems to have broken and was spewing out music at about half its usual volume, so it all got a bit uncomfortable in the rounds which required people to listen to the subtleties of a vocal performance to identify a singer. Anyway, the quizzers were hugely understanding and I'm sure everyone had a fabulous time.
The turn out was pretty good considering how bad we thought it was going to be. I was disappointed that none of the Fleet Singers made it along, primarily because the quiz was happening on their patch. I would have liked a few more of the Brass cast there as well, but top marks to Josef, Ben, Tom, Josh and Harry who represented the show and actually managed to come second over all, which I thought was deeply impressive considering they had the youngest average age! They got to be on a team with internet sensation and singing impersonator, Christina Bianco, who came with the lovely Joe from the Rebel Chorus, so I think they left feeling like they'd won first prize!
As it happened, my family's team won! Slightly embarrassing, but I assure you that I was being incredibly strict with the marking and giving no preferential treatment.
We had television cameras there, who were shooting footage for the project we're hoping to make towards the end of the year. I can't really talk about details. Neither could I tell anyone there why someone was coming up to them asking what their favourite musical was, and why... I assure you it will all make sense, as and when we get the green light...
After the quiz we went off to The Lord Palmerston pub half way up Dartmouth Park Hill and had some food and a pint of lemonade and lime. Bizarrely, Ed Miliband was sitting on the next door table with a group of friends. I think we were all a bit shocked and saddened to see him. We all agreed he looked a little haunted. Life is so peculiar isn't it? One day you're wondering if you're going to be the next British prime minister, the next you're in a North London pub, without a job, licking your wounds, wondering why it all went so wrong...
At sunset, Nathan, Abbie, Ian, Josh, Meriel, Edward, Sascha, my parents and I walked to the top of Parliament Hill and peered down across the magnificent views of London with a warm wisteria-scented spring breeze rustling our hair. It turns out that there could have been no nicer place to be at that particular time on a day like today. I love that place more than words can say. Whatever the weather.
We came home and switched on the telly to find our mate, Alison Jiear, mega-acing her audition for Britain's Got Talent. If you're wondering why you know the name, it's because Ali sang the song Yellow at our wedding. She also recorded the demo for the Eurovision song we wrote that the BBC didn't even rate enough to put through to the second round! They'll learn to listen to me one day...
Anyway. We've got a house full tonight. My mate Jo is staying with us. As is Josh, who is assisting me on tomorrow's shoot. The weather has held off, and it looks like it might be rather pleasant tomorrow, so everything seems to be slotting into place. I have two more insanely busy days to get through before I can stop and take stock of my life and if you thought today sounded hectic, you just wait til you hear about tomorrow!!
Friday, 8 May 2015
Marble cake and gift bags!
I've been tired and overwrought all day. We stayed up late, viewing the election through our fingers, hardly daring to watch the monstrous catastrophe which was unfolding. I think one of the problems with the good citizens of this country is that they tend to absent-mindedly vote Tory. It's like a sort of default "restore factory" setting. At the end of the day I suspect most aspirational people feel they're personally going to be better off under a conservative government. There's obviously guilt involved somewhere in that thinking, which is why so few people (particularly young people) actually own up to voting Tory. It's a sort of guilty pleasure. You know it's going to cause problems for everyone else, but you do it to save your own skin!
How many people actually stand in the polling station, holding their pencil stub attached to string, and think "I wonder what will happen to the NHS if I vote this way?" Or "I don't like the idea of straight bananas, but I wonder what will actually happen to our economy if we pull out of Europe? Does anyone stand there and wonder what the consequences of our spending four billion pounds on nuclear weapons will be? We may well think that people on benefits have it easy, but do we spare a thought for our friends and loved ones who might suddenly fall on hard times and find themselves desperate for benefits which no longer exists? Do we consider the hard-working people who have struggled horrendously as a result of wave after wave of cuts in the arts, education and policing?
I genuinely don't understand why we don't seem to...
Anyway. I cried uncontrollably throughout the morning. I now know exactly how my father felt in successive elections throughout the 80s and 90s. Of course I had a very personal reason to feel sad. Our MP, Lynne, was unceremoniously shunted out of office. It's no real consolation that she was ousted by a Labour person. It simply means we've lost another caring and compassionate politician, and there are precious few of them around. Besides, no one who kicked a Lib Dem MP out of office should feel proud of their achievements, just as very few SNP MPs can feel like their charisma and political aptitude played any role in their election. They simply got lucky. They merely rode a national wave of hatred...
The truth be told I cried most of all this morning because I genuinely don't know if Nathan and I will be able to survive another five years of Tory government indifference to the arts and the brutal cuts which will continue to happen. Theatres will close. Children will be deprived of art in schools. The standard of UK musicians on the world stage will diminish. I am beginning to think our personal futures may well exist on the other side of the Atlantic...
Anyway. I digress. We have to make do and mend, and I'm sure we'll shuffle onwards in one way or another.
As a sort of ridiculous counterpoint to the tragedy of the morning, at lunchtime, Nathan and I went into Central London to pick up our BAFTA gift bags. Exciting? Camp! We've not yet opened them up. These exclusive gift bags are given to all nominees and are apparently filled with little feminine gifts, trinkets and special deals. We had to sign for them and take ID in with us, which is unsurprising when you see the calibre of names on the list! Nathan was next to Catherine Tate! What I do know is that there's a handbag in there... So ladies reading this, if you get a little special etwas for Christmas, you know where it came from! Peering inside I can also see a box of Mac makeup. Handy for those blemishes...
We're not expected to win our category. The grapevine suggests that Richard Attenborough has it in the can, and The Guardian thinks that Grayson Perry will edge it over us. We're the underdogs.
Anyway, we came home from BAFTA with our fancy gift bags and went to the Poundstretcher in Kentish Town! Call us ostentatious if you like, but that's the way we roll!
The rest of the day has been spent preparing for the quiz, which seems to have involved doing nothing but baking cakes. I've made lemon drizzle, chocolate chip cookies and a chocolate and orange marble cake. Abbie has joined us and is making a lavender cake, cus she's fancy like that.
When she arrived, we went to Highgate Woods to take a photograph of Nathan's stunningly beautiful knitting commission, which he then sent off to America. It's the last time we'll ever see the item, which he's been knitting solidly, and with love, every hour in every day for the past month. Sadly it started spitting with rain, which doesn't bode well for the shoot on Sunday. Can I get a collective "please don't rain too much on Saturday so it's not muddy on Sunday"?
Still, we might get a rainbow. Did you know that the colours on a double rainbow are reversed? Does this mean the double rainbow is actually a reflection of the first rainbow? This particular question has just been raised, alongside talk about brocken spectres, which, for the uninitiated, are curiously beautiful phenomena where creepy shadows appear in the centre of a circular rainbow. They're usually seen from above, often from a mountain top, when the person viewing the spectre is looking down into a cloud. They're also fairly often seen from aeroplanes! Google the word and see for yourself... Of course there's a scientific explanation, which I won't go into because it spoils the magic and mystery of the occurrence, but whatever its cause, the results are remarkable.
How many people actually stand in the polling station, holding their pencil stub attached to string, and think "I wonder what will happen to the NHS if I vote this way?" Or "I don't like the idea of straight bananas, but I wonder what will actually happen to our economy if we pull out of Europe? Does anyone stand there and wonder what the consequences of our spending four billion pounds on nuclear weapons will be? We may well think that people on benefits have it easy, but do we spare a thought for our friends and loved ones who might suddenly fall on hard times and find themselves desperate for benefits which no longer exists? Do we consider the hard-working people who have struggled horrendously as a result of wave after wave of cuts in the arts, education and policing?
I genuinely don't understand why we don't seem to...
Anyway. I cried uncontrollably throughout the morning. I now know exactly how my father felt in successive elections throughout the 80s and 90s. Of course I had a very personal reason to feel sad. Our MP, Lynne, was unceremoniously shunted out of office. It's no real consolation that she was ousted by a Labour person. It simply means we've lost another caring and compassionate politician, and there are precious few of them around. Besides, no one who kicked a Lib Dem MP out of office should feel proud of their achievements, just as very few SNP MPs can feel like their charisma and political aptitude played any role in their election. They simply got lucky. They merely rode a national wave of hatred...
The truth be told I cried most of all this morning because I genuinely don't know if Nathan and I will be able to survive another five years of Tory government indifference to the arts and the brutal cuts which will continue to happen. Theatres will close. Children will be deprived of art in schools. The standard of UK musicians on the world stage will diminish. I am beginning to think our personal futures may well exist on the other side of the Atlantic...
Anyway. I digress. We have to make do and mend, and I'm sure we'll shuffle onwards in one way or another.
As a sort of ridiculous counterpoint to the tragedy of the morning, at lunchtime, Nathan and I went into Central London to pick up our BAFTA gift bags. Exciting? Camp! We've not yet opened them up. These exclusive gift bags are given to all nominees and are apparently filled with little feminine gifts, trinkets and special deals. We had to sign for them and take ID in with us, which is unsurprising when you see the calibre of names on the list! Nathan was next to Catherine Tate! What I do know is that there's a handbag in there... So ladies reading this, if you get a little special etwas for Christmas, you know where it came from! Peering inside I can also see a box of Mac makeup. Handy for those blemishes...
We're not expected to win our category. The grapevine suggests that Richard Attenborough has it in the can, and The Guardian thinks that Grayson Perry will edge it over us. We're the underdogs.
Anyway, we came home from BAFTA with our fancy gift bags and went to the Poundstretcher in Kentish Town! Call us ostentatious if you like, but that's the way we roll!
The rest of the day has been spent preparing for the quiz, which seems to have involved doing nothing but baking cakes. I've made lemon drizzle, chocolate chip cookies and a chocolate and orange marble cake. Abbie has joined us and is making a lavender cake, cus she's fancy like that.
When she arrived, we went to Highgate Woods to take a photograph of Nathan's stunningly beautiful knitting commission, which he then sent off to America. It's the last time we'll ever see the item, which he's been knitting solidly, and with love, every hour in every day for the past month. Sadly it started spitting with rain, which doesn't bode well for the shoot on Sunday. Can I get a collective "please don't rain too much on Saturday so it's not muddy on Sunday"?
Still, we might get a rainbow. Did you know that the colours on a double rainbow are reversed? Does this mean the double rainbow is actually a reflection of the first rainbow? This particular question has just been raised, alongside talk about brocken spectres, which, for the uninitiated, are curiously beautiful phenomena where creepy shadows appear in the centre of a circular rainbow. They're usually seen from above, often from a mountain top, when the person viewing the spectre is looking down into a cloud. They're also fairly often seen from aeroplanes! Google the word and see for yourself... Of course there's a scientific explanation, which I won't go into because it spoils the magic and mystery of the occurrence, but whatever its cause, the results are remarkable.
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