Forwards and Backwards, part the next

It's probably sensible to look at Thursdays now. Yesterday was my artw*nk class where we each had to come up with 6 words to inspire 150 words about our work. There was, as you might expect, a bit of a range from the mildly pretentious to the mundane. Hiding my light under a bushel as I do I was more to the former but the real winner of the evening was quirky which won a number of nominations from the cognoscenti. I showed some photographs which seemed to go down ok - though I really do need to edit down the couple of hundred prints I have to something a little more manageable with some narrative element. See - I can talk the talk now...

I missed this last Thursday because of a conference with work. Our annual national conference is normally a pretty tedious affair and while this one was slightly more animated I suspect it'll come to nothing. My self-appointed role in such gatherings is the King's Fool - a role I enjoy as those of you who know me will appreciate. I enjoy being a disruptive influence but this time I let myself become a little seduced with the idea that things might actually change which was, in retrospect, foolish.

Strangely for me I managed to get at least a little tipsy on Tuesday (in York on the way up with ant_girl,kissmeforlonger, steer, foxy76 and the wonderful hostess ayrton_nix), Wednesday and Thursday. No wonder I was in a funny mood at the weeeknd.

This puts me back to the weekend before which I mostly spent on trains. Friday was STJ/Dreadnought and dinner overlooking the Thames - the former being expensive for drinks - and the latter being expensive for drinks. However, I really enjoyed STJ - especially seeing as at the last one I was feeling most crippled by a lead balloon in my stomach. The only downside was not being able to escape The Prodigy. One room I can understand - but both rooms at once - aaaargh! Hero of the weekend was of course childeric for being a most wonderful host and excellent company while waiting for the police at London Bridge station to remove a semi-comatose drunk off the bus.

Saturday was The Metamorphosis at the Lyric in Hammersmith. I spent the actual show being half impressed by the physical acting and the excellent stagecraft and the other half wondering what the hell was going on. Wikipedia tells me that no-one actually has any clue what Kafka was on about so clearly the key is to go "Hmm" and spout semi-credible rubbish when talking about it.

This I can do!

I did some other stuff at the weekend too of course, but that's between me and my conscience. And I include in that the rather middle-aged and slightly sad activity of ending up talking about accenture's withdrawal from the N3 contract at a birthday party.

So, that's roughly caught up. Oh, except for the Thursday before that weekend, which was pretty much like yesterday. In that I sat around with photographers and tried to work out where I can buy a beret...