This and that

. . . and stretch!

If pain at the back of the legs indicates dedication to cycling, then I am dedicated.  I am beginning to think that all this much-vaunted belief in the positive power of exercise is much over rated.

            My knee joints, it must be admitted are not the finest articulating things in the world, but they did work without feeling as though someone has wrapped clumsy weights around them.  Now, after a week of cycling, this is not the case.  The pain, such as it is, is a ‘surround’ discomfort and I am working on the basis that this is merely muscle, rather like the alien I have just been watching in a most unsatisfactory film, suddenly called into action after a considerable time being quiescent. 

            Having been called into more stringent duty that they had heretofore been expected to complete, my muscles are rebelling.  And something must be done.

            I have therefore decided to revert to what I always (usually) [sometimes] did before playing squash or badminton – I will stretch my muscles before I put foot to pedal.  This will be, I am sure, the panacea and all manner of things will be well.

            And anyway, there are only a few more weeks to go and I will be able to sink behind the wheel once more!  At least just before and after I have my swim!

Rebellion!

There are some things you do because you have always done them.  Unthinkingly and with a sense that this is how life should be led.  They are the basics which make up the ethos that propels you through life.  Things that you can sink back on in times of trouble and feel that this, at least, is right.

            So it is troubling, to say the least, that I find myself – after a lifetime – going back on something which I have never even had cause to question.

            As far back as I can remember – and this I know because somewhere I still have evidence of my childish faith in books which I slavishly kept – I drank PG Tips.  It was the tea of choice, there was no other.

            In Spain, one of the first things that I did was search out a place where this need could find the raw material to be satisfied.  And I found it – albeit in a French supermarket chain, but I found a supply of tea bags with the requisite trademark.

            It has taken me some time, but I now realise that I have been denying the truth, the truth that I actually prefer Ty-phoo tea.  How can this have happened?

            I have rationalised it of course, it must, I have told myself be something to do with the quality of water.  I am used to the softness of Welsh water, whereas here in Catalonia, as I am fond of saying, I don’t know how something so full of calcium actually makes it out of the taps.  To say our water is hard is . . . and fit in simile or image of your choice . . . and to be frank it is the same for Ty-phoo as it is from PG Tips, but, there it is, after all these years a change of taste.

            Something I will have to learn to live with as I spit my traitorous cuppa!

Open-ended

The writing of the pro forma for the outline of the work that I intend to do for the end of course module which takes the place of the examination in the Open University for my art course is proving to be a damn sight more tricky that I thought it would be.

            Some things, like my bibliography, seem to have taken on a monstrous life of their own, but the actual title and the fiddly little details are tantalizingly out of reach.

            They will have to come to reach in the next 24 hours as the thing has to be handed in and I have to go to Barcelona on Wednesday.  So, the whip is being metaphorically applied and, as usual, in spite of moaning, I will probably manage to get something winging its electronic way.

            This is a real opportunity for my tutor to come up trumps.  She does know much more than I, and she can make or break my long essay by her suggestions.  She seems to be ‘fairly’ on board at the moment and I only hope that the sense of fellow travelling will extend itself to fairly concrete suggestions for the ‘bits’ in my proposal that I have somewhat glossed over!

            In a strange sort of way I am looking forward to this project becoming reality and words actually making it to the screen, because I am interested to see what the end result will be.  Because I don’t have a clear idea at the moment.  And that, I think, is a good thing.  I hope.

Editing

I am at the stage in my book where I am thinking of the order in which the poems should be published.  Thinking is not doing, and I am justifying my laziness by telling myself that I have more pressing academic problems.  How easy it is to write about problems rather than doing something about them.  It was ever thus and, as I have made that a way of life, don’t knock it!

Work has to be done!

A working lunch

The Puritan Work Ethic, which is supposed to buried deeply in such northern Protestant (atheist) capitalist people like my good self, means that something you have worked for must have that added extra that easy-come never gives you.  Which is my way of saying that lunch should have tasted better because I cycled all the way to the take away after having completed my swim (to which I also cycled) without once getting off the bike and walking it!

            The result of such exercise is that my knees feel as if someone has packed them full of slightly blunted tacks.  So much for exercise!

            To my continuing concern, the workmen who slaughtered the twenty trees have done nothing further to the sandy waste that they have created.  Where are the preparations for the laying of the cement – and, more importantly, the re-opening of the car park?  Where indeed!

            If the Fates think that they are changing my way of life by extending the cycling duties that I am grudgingly undertaking until they become second nature and I cycle through my own free will – then I warm them never to let it rain again.  The first sign of atmospheric moisture and I will be back behind the wheel and roaming though the residential areas like an Urban Flying Dutchman looking for a parking space.  And it if ain’t there I ain’t swimming!  Perhaps it’s the atheist bit of me that denies the full working potential of the old ethic!

            I have to admit that I do feel a sense of achievement about the effort that I am now making and my appearance on a sit up and beg, ‘S’ frame, basket carrying cycle has not gone unremarked – and I have not even written a poem about it!

Private faces in public places

The reality of having to make something of my whimsical choice of swimming pool paintings by Alvaro Guevara and David Hockney is becoming a little more problematic now that I am having to turn my whim into something academic.

            I have thoroughly enjoyed hunting around the Internet to try and discover the whereabouts of Guevara paintings and am thoroughly satisfied that I have found a location (that I will visit in a couple of months time) where someone has very kindly allowed me to book a visit to photograph and study the paintings he has!

            My tutor has suggested that I try and contact Hockney, as he is still very much with us, unlike Alvaro who died in the 50s.  But I am not sure that Mr Hockney actually talks to mere mortals any more.  It may well be worth making the effort to find out though as honourable failure is also an achievement!

            The details on the pro-forma that we have to submit giving an outline of what we intend to write about are coming together and my bibliography looks very impressive.  And that, after all, is the main thing!

            It is very difficult at the level of the course that we are studying, to add anything new and indeed, ‘real’ research is not a requirement of the enterprise.  As this piece of work is taking the place of an examination, there is a requirement that we use the scope of the course in the written work that we produce.  So, as the basis of what we are currently studying is Modernism, its development, critical basis and reactions to it, as well as the ‘rejection’ of it as a way of thinking about the more modern manifestations of art, our choices should allow some discussion of this.  That is the difficult bit, on which I am still working!

Politics and Big Brother

It is difficult for me to work out which I have more contempt for: the politics of our present Spanish government which has just promoted a hit-and-run hag as their preferred candidate for the leadership of the government of Madrid, or the Spanish version of VIP Big Brother.  The characters in both ‘drama’ are, to my mind, equally contemptible – though at least the ‘who the hell are they’ celebrities are at least openly doing it for the money!

            I am convinced that Toni only watches the interminable broadcasts of this awful programme in the same way that Wittgenstein used to sit in the front row in cinemas and watch Westerns – it was one way to stop him thinking about what he was doing.  Toni is so immersed in the complexities of installing and working virtual computers inside his computer (don’t ask!) and then making them work and speak to each other, that he sometimes, wild-eyed, needs some relief from the computer screen!

            I always feel a bit of a fraud when I think about my own use of computers.  I am, after all, an early personal computer adopter, but I have rarely used it as anything more than a glorified typewriter!

            This is not stopping me from exploring the possibility of turning away from Apple and embracing the Dark Side and reverting to Windows and PCs.  Even I, a dyed in the wool Mac user, have become disgusted at the single minded, dedicated pursuit of money at the expense of their customers.  The cost of the new version of the iPhone is little short of criminal extortion and has finally opened my eyes to just how callous Apple are/is – for they are legion!

            You can get so much more for your money for a PC rather than a beautiful looking Mac.  I am thinking.  And taking photographs of alluring machines with 1TB or even 1.5TBs of storage.  I know that everything should be in the cloud nowadays but I trust that thing as I would a rabid dog.  In the same way I still buy CDs – which I know appears to be absurdly quaint to those technophiles amongst whom I used to count myself.  But, I know what I know and there are machines that are tempting and yet do not have a logo that lights up on the cover!  Who would have thought it!

Now a little more on my Art course and then bed.  Deserved, I think.

It's all in what you mean

Week 1 of cycling – complete!

If progress is cycling both to and from the swimming pool without walking the bike up either of the two ‘hills’, then I have progressed.  I am rapidly developing contempt for pedestrians who will walk in cycle lanes, and a surprising respect for the majority of car drivers who actually do stop when I am waiting at a zebra crossing to get to the next part of the cycle pathway.

            However, let’s not get carried away, as soon as the car park is back in commission – I will be driving!

The loneliness of the 30 min swimmer

Cycling may make you a little more tired by the time you get to the pool for a swim, but there is nothing like an empty pool to reinvigorate you.

            When you want to swim, you do not want splashing people getting in the way, you want to concentrate on the rhythm of your stroke and have as efficient a time as possible.  Or at least I do, and having someone else in your lane lessens the pleasure.

            So it was with considerable delight that the only person who was in the pool when I arrived left it just as I was getting in!

            These pleasures never last, of course and soon – although later rather than sooner – other people selfishly intruded on my isolation.  However, by the time they arrived my swim was almost over and I therefore count myself as having had a good experience and an efficient work out.

            The composition of my post-swim tea appears to have regularized itself into a mixture that I like and I was able to drink and consider in sunshine which was unseasonably warm.

            The notes that I made in my Little Book are already the draft of a poem at http://smrnewpoems.blogspot.com.es/ and, as ever, I welcome readers!

Bargain salmon

Lunch was in one of the few places in Castelldefels that doesn’t hike its prices over the weekend for a menu del dia.  Unfortunately my main dish will not be appearing in Toni’s blog because I was halfway through it before I remembered about the camera.  My starter of Caesar Salad was photographed and was delicious.

            We were very lucky to get a table and it was only because our timing was immaculate that we were able to segue our way into a table that became vacant as we walked in through the door.  We were also recognised by the owner and as reasonably good customers it was in his interest to see us seated.  An excellent meal.

Open season!

The forums in the Open University are beginning to become a little more strident as the range and quantity of work that is being asked of us increases.

            The End of Module Assessment is causing various levels of hysteria, especially as we are nearing the cut off date for the submission of a very detailed pro forma outlining what we intend to do.  This pro forma is not given a mark, but if you don’t complete it you fail the course!  That concentrates minds I can tell you.

            My choice of paintings and artist is a little off centre and the choice of critical documents that I have to use it a little difficult.  However, I am encouraged by recent comments by my tutor who seems to be fairly flexible in an approach will might see me subvert (a favourite word in this particular course) one piece which is feminist in tone and re-imagine it as a representative piece of Queer Theory polemic.  Gender criticism is amenable to twisting.  At least I hope it is.  Because that is what I am going to do.  And soon!

Life is up hill!

Day 6 of cycling

This form of transport has now become a way of life for me.  Well, I did pedal up the hill of the road bridge over the motorway today.  That surely must mean something!  My gear changing is become less traumatic and the chain is staying on the cogs.  I call that virtually professional.

            The daunting thing for me is that the workmen seem to have stopped preparing the car park to be used as a car park again.  A month out of use seems like a very optimistic assessment of how long it is going to take to bring things back to normal and allow me to use the car again.

            The sun is shining and the ride is not long and we are heading into Spring, so at the moment, I am happy to keep cycling.

In the hands of the gods

Ironically, it is at this time that I am denied the use of the car by the uprooting of trees and the changing of a car park, that my car has been called in for a ‘free’ check-up.  This things are inevitably followed by an attempt on the part of the garage involved to drain your bank account.  I sincerely hope that this is not the case as I resent every penny spent on something as mundane (if essential) as a car.  Especially a car so signally devoid of useful gadgets as my present vehicle.

            I am very tempted by cars with rear view cameras.  I hate reverse parking with a passion and I am usually pretty average at doing it, so this is one gadget that I would actually be able to justify.

            Anyway I hope this is just a oil and plugs check and will not result in the spending of money which can be frittered away on other nicer things than a car.

(Later pm.)    Well, all I can say is thank god there was nothing wrong with the car!  As it was I paid €270!  Perhaps I am tempting fate, but this car does run well and, for the first time in my experience, it actually seemed to run better after its service.  I could tell that ‘things’ whatever they be, have been done.  The man who took my money away explained, very patiently what had been done and what had been changed etc.  I would not have known what he was talking about if he had been speaking English, so you can imagine my fixed smile as he explained it all in Spanish.  I did understand what he was saying, mostly.  Though knowing the words does not necessarily mean that I actually know what the hell he was talking about.  I do now know that I have a pollen filter – which has been changed.  Which is nice.

            While the car was being ‘done’ I walked down a block or so and went into the Gava shopping centre.  The plan was that I would look at the shops and then settle down with a cup of tea and get on with my poems.

            This did not happen.  I always underestimate my capacity for shopping.  Especially when I have ‘something to do’.  The present ‘something to do’ is concerned with The Meal in October and will be a little surprise for my guests.  I am working on it and I needed to do a bit of shopping research.  That is now done and I have formulated a plan.  ‘Nuff said.

TMA turmoil!

My last essay has now been returned with a mark which is satisfactory if not quite up to Toni’s tedious excellence.  It will do me nicely.  It means that the final essay is just so much candy for me as I already have sufficient credit to pass the essay section of the course!  I will, however do the final essay!

            The next pressing problem is the pro-forma which has to be submitted in five days, then the next essay in a few weeks.  It’s all go.

Flesh Can Be Bright

The progress of the book seems to be speeding up as at least one of my collaborators seems to be producing something.  I await the product with some interested anxiety!

Pace increases

Day 5 of Bike Riding.

At last an uneventful day with the chain staying firmly on the cogs.  The wind, however, was another story.  And it was against me all the way there, even drawing water from my eyes.  There is nothing like discomfort to make you believe that you are really doing something major.  It allowed me to ignore the pathetically small distance that I actually travel each day to get to my swim.  Small enough to be manageable but long enough for me to feel that I have accomplished something when it is done.

            The aquacise or whatever they call it when a group of aging people stand in the pool and vaguely follow the gyrations of a raucous teacher shouting against pounding music.  A pair of earplugs and head under water modifies the noise level and anyway, I am usually thinking profound thoughts as I mindlessly make my way up and down.  Well, not necessarily profound but deep, deep as the pool.  And as this is a modern double shallow end pool and child friendly, you can tell exactly how probing those thoughts are!

            I am reminded of my time in university when I used to go for a swim in the pool next to Singleton Hospital every day.  The swim was a form of exercise and of relaxation too.  I thought, I am always thinking, but the level of thought was not quite so focussed, it became more wide-ranging and less serious, almost like a waking dream.  Sometimes I take a single part of a thought and worry it like a bone and let it go where it will.  The great thing about swimming is that if you don’t keep at least part of your mind on what you are doing, you drown.  So there is a dual control thing going on which is so different from normal living that it can little less than a form of escape.  Or at least that is what I tell myself.  Anyway, by the time all the half thoughts, the vague ideas, the necessary exercise and little distractions of other human bodies have played themselves to some sort of climax, it is time to end the swim.  And it can all start again tomorrow!

Support Toni’s Blog

Lunch now has become a duty.  We only eat to add another restaurant to the growing number contained in Toni’s Blog http://catalunyaplacetoeat.blogspot.com.es/ this time going to a place that we haven’t been to for some time.

            The décor had been partially changed but the ambience of the place was just about the same, or rather it was a bit lopsided as if they hadn’t really made a final decision about how the almost revamped place should look.

            The food was fine with my main dish of wok fried chicken and vegetables being really rather good.  But look at the blog to see what we ate.

            I like the idea of each eating out experience being captured and blogified.  Over a year or so we should have a substantial number of entries and have a bewilderingly luscious selection of what Castelldefels can offer.

            I wonder if what Toni writes will develop more of a bite and be more destructive, or constructively critical as time goes on.  This is still very early days for the site and so there are all sorts of ways in which it can go.

The next book

Considering the actual ‘next’ book has not actually been produced yet, to be planning one for 2016 is either an example of exceptional forward planning, or a shining example of hope trumping reality.

            However, I have a working title, ‘Structured Sense’ and I have added the first poem to its pages and I am already thinking about ideas for the few sequences that I think I would like to include.  One of my favourite quotations concerns ‘vaulting ambition’ – though I have always considered that it only applied to murdering Scottish pretenders than to my good self.

            ‘Flesh Can Be Bright’ continues to progress and, as far as I am concerned, my poems for that book are done.  I am now waiting on the work of others – but I also have a plan B to cope with any and all failures of contributions.  Though I am quietly confident that everything will work out in the end.

            I am now editing and redrafting and I reckon that will take me well up to May and then final decisions will have to be taken about the final appearance of the book.  You would think that self-publishing makes things a damn sight easier – and that self-delusion is what I am working on.  And I like the ambiguity of that statement!

OU hysteria

Even when, or perhaps especially when, we are a separated group of studiers, hysteria has a way of uniting us in one howling band of paranoia.  This is partly because the next few weeks are ones of concentrated work production with two pieces of tutor work having to be sent in.

            We have just had an on-line tutorial.  I do not know what some of my fellow students use as microphones, but some of them do not seem to have the same quality of reproduction of a tin with a piece of stretched string.  One of them sounded as though he was in a cardboard box surrounded by cotton wool.  And people don’t read the instructions and the information that they are given and, I am sounding like a teacher.  So I will stop.

            At least my tutor seems not only sympathetic to my general choice of topic for my mini thesis, but also sympathetic to my bending the rules a little to further my ideas.  This is positive.  I will reserve my relief until I get back my academic pro-forma and see exactly what comments my tutor makes for the next stage.

            I am lucky in being able (in theory) to see both of my paintings in London.  One, the Hockney, I will have check that it will be on display when I am able to get to the Tate.  I bloody well hope it is as I have built my ideas around seeing it again as a central part of my thesis.  The other painting is in a private collection and the owner has, very kindly, invited me to view the paintings when I am in London.  This could all work out very well, and I still have in mind the development of the ideas to link up with the exhibition in Leeds.  That would be a major achievement.  But that is for the future.  The immediate future is the writing of an outline of what I think I might be able to do.