¦ dialing in from the Sky Bunker ¦
20th July 2013. Sitting in the oven-heat of a crazy English summer. I don’t think it’s rained since I got back from the arctic last month. I’m pretty sure it has but I can’t remember. The sun has been relentless. Day after day. I like it.
Got home last night after an exceptionally tense 3o hours at work. It’s tense most days but this has been nuts – although I do enjoy the madness in that somewhat sick pleasure through adrenaline and stress. Add to this some early mornings in my creative groove and solid progress on the new novel every night, followed by late night work with the Oj proofreading and editing the novel I finished last month – The Social Club. By last night I was just cream-crackered. Knackered. Supposed to be going to a birthday party for GBH (Game Breaker Hagen). My selfish voice kicked into gear: stay at home, relax. I’ve got the whole weekend to myself. Looking forward to an indulgent couple of days locked away in the Sky Bunker: writing. But I fought back and left the house again.
Blissful drive through sun-baked Bristol streets in my Flea – roof down. Listening to acid jazz album Rite to Silence by the Sandals (1994) and just feeling great.
Had that lovely moment when you walk into a small gathering and you know everyone who is there. And then get that awareness of good-fortune, counting blessings to have such a mix of great people in your life. Appreciating the positive. Smiles all round. Hugs and the easy flow of conversations.
Also great to be in England and able to hang out all night, outside! GBH had set up a small seating area in the courtyard where his isolated apartment sits, surrounded by old 20th century terraced houses. As the sun went down and the colour bled out of the night sky, a gibbous moon swung into view above the black slate rooftops and crumbling chimney stacks. I supped a bottle of Newcastle Brown Ale and enjoyed the vibe.
Drove back through late night city centre streets that were heaving with revelers, sun-kissed and happy. Some of them drunk. Some of them otherwise. All of it good. Roof down again. Warm air. Music on the stereo. Love moments like that. Bristol has this vibe like no other city I’ve been to. Hard to describe, but it’s place that buzzes and simmers with perpetual excitement and energy. Great place to live.
Picking up speed once out the other side and connecting with the bigger roads leading to my house on a hill, out here on the edge of the city.
Then this morning. Norwegian breakfast for one.
Making an effort to pause before plunging into the keyboard-melting pace of the day.
Got my stock of supplies when I came back from the arctic. Yum. Taste of home from home.
It’s been good progress so far. Finished chapter nine earlier. Now 26,500 words in.
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