Lockwood awakes complaining of feeling "fuggy". He hasn't been the same since The Bad Lieutenant. I know things are bad when I offer him £7 to go and get his haircut and he says he'll just let Strigner do it: the very idea of letting our production designer loose on his follicles was enough to bring him out in shakes just three weeks ago.
We manage, all the same, and despite Strigner being delayed by dog health issues, a quietly productive morning. I complete the entire shotlist for "Bloodless Offering in B Minor" in the Snuggle Office whilst Lockwood deputises for Strigner in the studio. At 11am I pop my head round the door to find he has built the beginnings of a fine miniature for our model shot of an ancient Greek marketplace. However, when I return an hour later he has progressed no further, painting the same tiny radish and muttering about his veg stall being structurally unsound.
We escape into the cafe area for pizza pie, a concoction of toast, cheese and tomato that looks and sounds like something I might make (I don't make things) but tastes superb, and briefly alleviates Lockwood's fug. Strigner's right hand woman Suzanne Thompson arrives with a bagful of handcrafted veg and a bad head: on Strigner's arrival we finally get around to singing the Institute's anthem, a discipline that has been neglected three out of the last four days.
Buoyed by our Fat Larry imitation (and personally by Strigner's remarks on my own improvement at same) we crack on at a mild canter. A pleasant moment occurs as we stand by the window to the secret garden (should a secret garden have a window?) when Nexus Sally, distracted from her homework, wistfully imagines we are talking about the weather: whilst Sally is not far off, I am taken with the idea of imagining other people wasting time in mundane conversation whilst daydreaming oneself. Such pockets of time are undervalued, ephemeral and uncontrivable. If only you could tin them for emergencies.
The rest of the day is spent messing around with togas and attempting to keep Lockwood from harming himself. He is left painting quietly in the studio and we pretend not to be disturbed by the occasional perverted assertion that issues from his troubled lips. Tomorrow Doris rolls on the next episode of UNIVERSAL EAR. An early night for all.
We manage, all the same, and despite Strigner being delayed by dog health issues, a quietly productive morning. I complete the entire shotlist for "Bloodless Offering in B Minor" in the Snuggle Office whilst Lockwood deputises for Strigner in the studio. At 11am I pop my head round the door to find he has built the beginnings of a fine miniature for our model shot of an ancient Greek marketplace. However, when I return an hour later he has progressed no further, painting the same tiny radish and muttering about his veg stall being structurally unsound.
We escape into the cafe area for pizza pie, a concoction of toast, cheese and tomato that looks and sounds like something I might make (I don't make things) but tastes superb, and briefly alleviates Lockwood's fug. Strigner's right hand woman Suzanne Thompson arrives with a bagful of handcrafted veg and a bad head: on Strigner's arrival we finally get around to singing the Institute's anthem, a discipline that has been neglected three out of the last four days.Buoyed by our Fat Larry imitation (and personally by Strigner's remarks on my own improvement at same) we crack on at a mild canter. A pleasant moment occurs as we stand by the window to the secret garden (should a secret garden have a window?) when Nexus Sally, distracted from her homework, wistfully imagines we are talking about the weather: whilst Sally is not far off, I am taken with the idea of imagining other people wasting time in mundane conversation whilst daydreaming oneself. Such pockets of time are undervalued, ephemeral and uncontrivable. If only you could tin them for emergencies.
The rest of the day is spent messing around with togas and attempting to keep Lockwood from harming himself. He is left painting quietly in the studio and we pretend not to be disturbed by the occasional perverted assertion that issues from his troubled lips. Tomorrow Doris rolls on the next episode of UNIVERSAL EAR. An early night for all.
What is this? Whatever it is- I like it!!!
ReplyDelete