JONATHAN STONE
From Imagining to Managing

30/11/18

I fell off my bike a couple of days ago and cut and bruised myself. What has has me falling off my bike got to do with risk assessment?

I was full of physical confidence  to get over my Ataxia so I wore  tracksuit trousers and sweatshirt and thought 'cycle to park and get strong' None of this physical and mental safetyfirst timidity and so I got on bike. I was stationary at a junction with busy road, waiting for aspace in the traffic near Balcombe Street and fell sideways inexplicably and lay in road for a few seconds, I tried to get up, thinking I haven't hurt myself really and I tried to stand up from road but couldn't get up, my brain sent message to my arms and legs to get up, but they didn't respond a nearby pedestrian ran over to me as a number82 bus avoided me, and helped me to my feet, I felt a little silly and thanked but assured him I was ok, but as I walked on I thought I had better get checked over. I locked my bike up- I wasn't going to cycle again and went to an nearby co-op supermarket and asked to use their first aid kit.  I rolled up my trouser leg to reveal a very bloody knee -the fall had knocked  off a scab from my previous fall. I was cleaned and bandaged up by the bloke in the supermarket. I felt well lookedafter and limped out of the shop, confidence severely dented.

I haven't dared to get on the bike since. That was 3 days ago and have been thinking about how to get confidence  back but without physical risk.

Many achievements come from just going for it and ignoring worry and caution. I have found that when I  list dangers the sensible option seems to be don't try anything. How do you draw the line between a debilitating worry and a genuine risk?

Maybe I can get fit and strong without the 'risk' of cycling. But  a voice in the back of my head cries 'wuss' at me,  but it is always possible to be out of you comfort zone, extend your possiblities without risking fragile flesh on tarmac. Brute reality: flesh is softer than tarmac. I am mostly fine but unpredictably lose all coordination and balance.

so much as though I love hurtling along carefree on a bike, cycling for me is off the menu, but I hope I don't become too timid.

Hmm maybe I should go into risk assessment - "Assessing risk for a big company is easy. Its like falling off your bike ….'

 

8/1//18

‘YOU WILL RISE NICELY’

 

 So... I get to the Festival Hall to queue for Michelle Obama tx at 8 am.Tickets were going on sale at 10. Plenty of time I thought. My daughter really wanted to see Michelle in person, but  unbeknownst to moi, so did 30,000 other people, online on phone and in person. It was chilly as I joined the queue at the bottom of Hungerford Bridge. They hadn't opened the doors yet and the crowd snaked round the building. Commuters hurried, staring past the queue, uncomprehending, making their way from Waterloo across the bridge to work in West End. Here  was a graphic representation of class and race in Britain (if ya wanna go that way) most people in the queue were black, most of the commuters were white. I must have stuck out like a sore thumb in the queue. At 9.05 a cheer erupted from the front of the queue, round the corner and about 40 yards and 120 people away. The cheer was for opening the doors: we could carry on queuing in the warm now. We moved inside, the queue snaked around the foyer, the box office terminals were still off. I, nursing wounds from trying to get on a bike yesterday and falling off,  gratefully found a chair and sat for fifteen minutes before the queue  moved forward a few  feet

At just gone 11am I didn't know what to do, we were nearing the front of the queue but  the ushers told us there were no more tickets. People were beginning to get annoyed and looking anxiously into their phones connecting to the South Bank website 'Welcome to the queue' it said. Back to the real world. I stopped peering into my neighbours phone and look at the scene in front of me -  still no tickets. The ushers, while trying to deal with the queue, were doing their best dealing with an uncertain situation and swiftly changing information in their earpieces,. I checked my phone, it was dead, out of juice, so I borrowed a phone and called Jasmeet to warn her. I had to open the shop at 12  and there was a customer waiting, she said.  I might be late opening the shop I said.

'Sold out' they announced at 11.20. I left the queue and hurried to make my way to the shop by 12. I got to shop at 1202 and called again to let the shop know that I  had arrived. ‘Oh that customer is not coming ‘ I needn’t have rushed. I was obviously flustered I don't know if I heard clearly but I think she said "you will rise nicely" quelling my seething, perturbed spirit. Yes life goes on, we rise above these little traumas. Yes but I would like my daughter to have seen Michelle. But then later when I text her to let her know of queuing in the early morning  cold for non existent tickets she texts me ‘it’s chil dw’[‘don’t worry’], oblivious to my efforts. Hmm, I decided not to educate my unhearing daughter on the finer points of the difference between needless anxiety and heartfelt concern. On we go ... 3 hours in the cold though ... on we go

 

23/10/18

Strategy

Have never really thought about strategy. 

last year with all its blows, was about next step and short term survival.

 But now I have to plot the next stage of my life carefully.

What do I want? What can I do? What am I able to do? Who can I carry?

Strategy is more to do with dream and bringing into being an imagined world. 

But in order to realise it, like a chess player you have to win and outwit the opposition.

Many think that’s why strategy is often seen as cold  logical and calculated  and excludes desire

But again, as always, the rational, the logical, the strategic, is a tool at the service of what the heart wants to make happen  

 

12/10/18

THE TAT PRAT

 

I’m glad I don’t have tats 

Cos once you got them that’s that

Gross, its downhill from then on

 

and another thing…

 

Vaping.

What a pretentious and slimy thing.

particularly those vaping things that look like miniature spirits bottles 

looks like the person  is glugging then huge clouds of smoke appear

a picture of craven addiction

AND

 its pretending in 2 big ways:

Pretending to smoke

and pretending you want to give up

don’t believe you either way

If you wanna give up just do it but don’t pretend you do but can’t

 

as for vapers with tats ..

 

11/09/18 

Usually those people who urbanely  bleat about ‘in the real world’ are the narrow unreal ones. 

Don’t they realise that those they accuse of ‘ not living in the real world’ or ‘ never had a real job' or  whatever, are part of the world they live in? 

The real world is a big mishmash of many people and many views. Maybe they need to open their eyes to the variety of the real world  rather than exclude anyone who doesn’t share their blinkered view of the world.

 

18/08/18

I recently rediscovered this that I wrote a couple of years ago while in Scotland at parental home wondering what I was doing there. A friend had just advised if you are on your own get a dog. This mixes thoughts but seemed right about change, transformation and this time:

 

‘Get a dog'

Keep the dog happy and then your happy no time to worry 

A dog's life is short-

several dogs lives fit into a human life

 so you get to accept the ageing of the loved dog, waning energies and dying 

And how the new pup has some the old dog's traits

 but with younger eager vigour

 

Dad always wanted a dog  

but Mum was always anti-dog;

‘People are so much more interesting’ she said.

She raised  5 children

and wanted to capture life in the things she collected,

But now the family is grown and gone just the shells remain;

The books are still on the shelves,

but the age of the book has passed as all things must

The energy has gone out of this household. 

 

 

It's ok ma,

We carry our poetry within us

It's not been captured and translated into possessions, status,

money or books on shelves.

Though we thank you ma for birthing, nurturing and nudging the bud,

you don't know,

you may be surprised by the way in which we grow!

 

 

 

 31/07/18

On Sunday morning I went for walk and coffee and as I was walking through Marylebone station there was a film shoot in progress- big crew, lots of big lights podiums and cameras probably about 20crew several actors and extras, trying to film a busy station scene- in a busy station. Why were there extras dressed up as ordinary people?

 why didn't someone just wander round the station with an unobtrusive hi definition camera and record what was happening?

 I sat at an empty table by the AMT coffee stall and watched. They did one take then the table I was sitting at filled up with extras, shepherded there by one of the crew. I imagined a line down the middle of the table with fact on one side and fiction on the other,  the extras on one side and me on the other ( maybe that’s disingenuous - by being aware of the narrow line between fact and fiction makes me fictional?) and was in this fiction that was trying to recreate fact. The line was moving I was no longer watching this scene , I was in shot. One of the extras tried to check out whether I was an 'official'  extra. I said no. he said 

"you should get paid for this- I'll point out the man you have to talk to . You're within your rights"

 

 I wondered whether to try but didn't want the argument and paper work to get a few pounds, even if it was an ad for SKY who have gazillions. I sloped off. Maybe I should have been more aggressive but bloody hell this was 8am on my Sunday morning.

 

29/07/18 

When does a blemish become a story? From a refurbished computer apologetically sold at reduced price with some light scratches to a tatty antiquarian book that has passed through many hands: at what point does wear and tear  and it’s marks become an interesting story and increase the interest in a used thing?

 

14/07/18

Yesterday I posted this:

‘So here I am this morning next to Regent’s Park wow!how balanced and calm I am despite Don boy and Mel being so close- less than1/2 a mile away, staying in US ambassadors residence at Winfield House.. no, just cos he’s US pres and very nearby, I’m not going to let that deluded pipsqueak disturb my early morning ritual. 

Oh bloody hell,  a HUGE motorcade of big black vehicles with a police escort just went by. Couldn’t see inside the big limo it had darkened windows.’

But an hour later when leaving the park I saw an identical motorcade heading down to central london. The first one must have was a decoy - false news to confuse.

 

3/07/18

There is a way of concentrating- trying but relaxed, not caring but committed ; going for it, not letting depressive fatalistic thoughts stop you whilst going,but letting go as soon as you mess up and trying again.  It’s difficult to find the right words for this. It’s a bit illogical but the body knows

 

26/6/18

How to succeed as a smug psychologist: Make a diagnosis, say,  of a narcissist: ’grandiose vain and egotistical’ then make a seemingly profound scientific statement based on the same criteria: ‘research has shown that most narcissists are grandiose, vain and egotistical’

‘Ooh they are nasty and you are clevva! that explains things then …’

 

OR …

 

a narcissist shows dogged determination to jump back on the horse and try again even though the rational thought is ‘your really not very good, accept reality give up and join the rest of us (well, we the sensible ones who know whats what)’

 

BUT…

 

 

’thats not narcissism that just determination, and a realistic, sober self-assessment of what one can do’

 

OR..

 

what is a successful psychologist? a narcissist

 

 

 

12/6/18

Apparently if you smile you run faster.

 

That's fine, only I can't really run any more 

so why should I smile?

 

 

'yes but maybe if you smiled…'

 

 

 

 

4/6/18

ADAPTING TO MY DIAGNOSIS AND CHOOSING TO INCORPORATE IT INTO MY NEW PERFORMANCE

 

 

After genetic testing, I was diagnosed with SCA17 in March last year. I have been coming to terms with my diagnosis since then and going through fear (I am 59- a fact sheet informed me that SCA17 people rarely live beyond 60) to acceptance to action.

’Its best to deny you diagnosis’, a friend erroneously advised. There were various Ataxia FB groups I joined - its good to be in touch with other who are going through some of the same  things. As it is degenerative and currently there is no cure, then Ataxia in all its forms is  understandably depressing.

For me coming to terms with my diagnosis has been about maintaining mental balance even on bad days and staying buoyant.

There are many stories of humour and bravery by Ataxians but understandably, a depressive energy sometimes surfaces on those forums. There is sometimes an expectation that doctors will deliver a miracle cure and meanwhile, Ataxians are told to exercise and diet. That is treatment as much as any drug or expert advice. The only way I can come to terms with this dreadful diagnosis is to accept it and self manage in collaboration with the doctors. Even if the doctors know more facts, the Ataxian has to deal day to day with its effects. You and the doctors both are experts, so is your family or anyone who knows you and helps. Its a collaboration but you,  the Ataxian has to deal with it. Live with it but don’t let it stop you living your life. If you are prescribed exercise and diet as the best thing for you -yes thats treatment! go for it! Its likely to be better physically and psychologically than waiting helplessly for a miracle drug to come along. That may or may not be going to happen— if it does its wonderful - but it doesn’t seem wise to rely on something that isn’t there yet. Learning to stay buoyant and optimistic on bad days is treatment. Anything that makes your situation more bearable is treatment.

 

Making a new show has been part of my way of coping with my situation. I have been wanting to do this for a long time. My diagnosis with Ataxia meant I’d better make it soon while I still can.This is just my story; everyone with Ataxia will have their own story to tell; of how their Ataxia develops, how they coped, how their family and loved ones coped, how they adapted, denied or whatever. Although their are similarities of symptoms across the range of Ataxians, no -one’s stories are the same, and everyone needs to be heard. I am lucky, in that my case is milder than some and I am able to articulate my experience and put it into a show, but remember that every Ataxian, however ill they are, those unable to speak, those whose condition has made it harder to communicate, have as rich particular, funny, varied and personal story to tell. 

Wot drama!  

 

 

4/6/18

if you have insight

you can use it cynically

and reject most things

decide why not and be separate

but maybe your insight 

takes you to a place

where you can see the next step

 

5/5/18

 This sunny blue morning I got out my house to exercise, get calm, clear my fuzzy head and had to cross a road to get to park but could not because of a huge unstoppable peloton of sweaty men, 30 of them bombing round the park on bikes very  fast. The paunchy sweaty pelotons are getting bigger and bigger and beginning to resemble flocks of birds.

 

 

 

26/4/18

I left house at 6.30am and as I walked down the street I overhead some passers by- trendy girls on their way to school, talking in English hip hop language but posh-like’get down with the Streetz ‘we iz’ mixed with ‘ok yaah’. But our voices say where we’re really from... or maybe it’s aspirational? Dunno but posh English hip hop it most definitely was.(language change and development is unpredictable, always surprises and cannot be legislated or controlled, but…

 

 

 

13/04/18

Humans allow computers to get the upper hand by being floaty and indecisive; 

Mindless surfing means you get led by algorithms that get increasingly accurate. 

They will develop far quicker than a vague habit blind human.

but

You are also a sweaty algorithm with heart gut and breath

BE MORE DECISIVE THAN YOUR GADGETS!

 

 

 

21/4/18

MOST admit their lives are too complicated,

they have to be different things to different people,

They exist simultaneously in parallel universes urbanely 

but will not talk from within one universe about that universe... no-one wants to admit who they are. Everyone's a spy.

Maybe old versions of what we thought of as realities of who one is

 no longer exist.

It’s difficult to find a clear language.

Most people live in several bubbles including the  bubble of their own making

 

April3

CASH COW

In bed 6.15am. Remembering a ‘friend’ of a friend turning to me years ago and asking casually ‘what’s your cash cow then?’ And I didn’t know what she was talking about. I had never heard of this ‘cash cow’ thing that everybody is meant to have. She assumed I, like everyone around her (she was from the moneyed class), had some private income. I must have given that impression. Why? why? why? I hate how class ridden and money concerned this country is. Maybe I had drifted into that world without realising it; I could pass and play the twat. It flattered me but how naive. I don’t like myself sometimes.

 

 

 

 

3/3/18

Listening to cassette, wondering about timing 

Sometimes it seems quite arbitrary what I choose to carry with me when going through and saving some things from my parents household, but for some reasonI have saved the cassette of ‘Jazz on a Summers Day 15 Jazz classics’ which has, track 2 side 1, Sarah Vaughan singing 'Summertime.' 

Listening to it on an old beatbox while I potter about the kitchen and thinking of how most music is quantised and regularised and then I think of the precision and freedom combined of jazz musicians, and Sarah Vaughan and the bands ragged and precise timing and how weird it is. You could get all analytical and decode what is happening in there, but it’s all felt and I bet all players involved would laugh if you asked them to analyse exactly what is happening. 

‘That is the way she sang and we went with it’. I  can imagine them saying, down-playing their probably unconscious, sensitive musicianship.

Pre digital playing  is so different- there is always compromise and sensitivity there. Hard to keep that sensitivity in a digital world. 

(I say this knowing how bad my timing can be, but knowing the importance of being in tune and time whether digitally achieved or achieved sensitively).

Maybe that in the digital binary world there is less room for mistakes or happy accidents to be assimliated.

 In the digital binary world something is either 'wrong' or 'right'. The real world is a bit looser- good or bad?

 

 

 

 

1/3/18

When I were a mere yoot of 45

I still felt 25

but now I am 55

(I lie about my age, I'm actually 59)

I am, under no illusions

and dreams are in the past and I imagine

Being 65, 75, 85

 

 

 

 

9/2/18

Isn’t it a bit spooky that the Round Reading Room at the centre of the British Museum. one of the most spectacular places in London, lies empty locked and unused?

Apparently many young people now are not interested in the past. They see it as irrelevant.

I spoke to a man sitting at a desk, a museum employee at  the membership desk yards from the  Reading Room and talked to him. He said it had been closed for years. He didn't know what was happening to it. He talked as if it wasn’t there. There were thousands of people, mainly tourists in the museum, yards from the Reading Room, walking round its outside walls.

Its huge, the centre of the Great Court, its circular form the inspiration for the design of the roof, the centre of the museum, you cannot miss it, yet it is as if it is not there. Empty, locked and unused

 

Very very very strange.

 

 

8/2/18

1. Does the amount the amount of data around, which enables experts and policy makers to see the big pictures hinder on-the -spot decision making? 

After reading reports on news websites of global views on food distribution child slavery and seed production, and then working on my own  rules for performance w'shops based on intuitive body knowledge, I am wondering how much constantly seeing a big picture means reliance on data, distance and an imagined ‘objectivity’ .Maybe things that happen on a smaller, more immediate level are missed.

Specifically body work, which  essentially is sensory small experiential and intuitive vs data, which essentially is big and head/brain/thought orientated. Out of date  debate, between head and body needs to be moved beyond so thought and direct bodily response are brought closer together. But, of Kahneman’s two kinds of thinking: system 1( intuitive, fast) & 2( rational, slow) thinking -  Which is prevalent now? Most seem to favour system 2 thinking.

 

 

2. I try to get the big picture of the multiple projects I have (stories film songs poems, etc) and in the end find myself getting daunted by the totality and can’t concentrate on any of them, yet if I get immersed in thinking about any one project I get excited at the possibilities and have ideas within it but lose the big picture.

There is loss of power to do with losing the over view- manager’s worry! maybe its just anxiety - getting absorbed in one project may take attention away from trying to maintain and control the overview but nothin gets completed unless you do. but maybe instead of thinking of anxiety as needles worry why not take its onset as the need for a decision - maybe if you are getting absorbed in one project and losing the overall picture, the appropriate action night be delegate responsibility to the one project, which frees you to  zoom out and take the overview of all projects

 

 

15/01/18

Old printers in Venice in the early days of printing had a motto- FESTINA LENTE (translated: HURRY SLOWLY.)

At first glance a contradictory and nonsensical motto but when was doing purely rational? 

A recognition of the painstaking  and precise work needed to prepare a book for printing and recognition of deadlines and need to get things finished. 

It seems a sound attitood to most things.

 

14/01/18

 As I get older I am less inclined to judge other  directors/creators aesthetically- I used to be very harsh on others work but now I recognise and applaud the way they have stayed working. The longer one stays in the making performance/theatre game the more it displays  a passion for the work as an only option- you do it for love of your craft. The 'we' becomes more important than the competitive 'I'  and respect for having chosen to hang in there, in spite of everything. It's a stance to the world of ‘that’s what I am’ and  craft and experiences merge with to lessen aesthetic differences

 

 

13/01/18

Since my diagnosis with Ataxia I have been connected with the Ataxia community  through online digests etc. I like and want to be with the bravery the humour, the can do spirit of the Ataxic community- that’s exciting and energising, but unfortunately because of gloomy medical prognosis there is a lot of the atmosphere of depression and dependence about it - but rough with the smooth - there is a lot of superficial feel good and also superficial feel bad.

 Almost .. but the brave funny spirits win!?

We are all gonna die someday. 

How to be positive while admitting dark truths. 

That’s where the jokes are…

 

 

12/01/18 

Why does putting crucial things to do in a list make them less crucial? I have lots of VERY IMPORTANT things to do otherwise my life becomes dysfunctional. I write them down.

I look at my to do list and all becomes  a blur. The act of putting them in a list is NOT getting them done. It’s an illusion- it’s just a bit of organisation and the organisation removes the anxiety and urgency removing any sense of needing to get the thing done before moving on to the crucial things ... Maybe this is just playing with putting felt things into words - unnecessarily nit picky and complex this articulating of feelings, putting feelings into words- maybe that is the myth of our culture up to now- that if a feeling is articulated, put into words that it’s ok, it’s rationalised. Maybe to a future generation, whose language has evolved visually through emojis pictures gifs memes etc, ( and other ways we have not imagined yet) our  reliance on the word will seem hopelessly naive, and deluded. Or language will be a combination of visual and verbal- words are pretty good and the ancient Egyptians found heiroglyphics limiting. I ramble…

 

8/01/18

I used to believe in high art, 

honing your craft,

Collaboration

but theatah even if its beautiful is all narcissism, competition bravado trickery laughs and bums on seats,  

Performing is low art.

 

7/1/18

ATAXIA 

(to fellow sufferers and those less fortunate than me)

 

Sometimes it  dominates me and I am a clumsy weak oaf

Sometimes it is nothing and I feel graceful and 'whats the fuss about?'

Some people don’t see it, for others it’s ‘poor Jon he can’t run or jump or jar his limbs.’

If I manage it well and live within its limitations, it almost disappears 

but if I am in crowded noisy hilly places I lose balance. 

If i try and do stuff in a strange place or in a strange way 

i might get frustrated with myself and not be able to function. 

So what’s different from me and the average 59 year old? 

Yes I’m dysfunctional and falling apart like all my peers (whatever their gender). 

A piece of paper from a respected medical authority after genetic testing? 

Maybe that’s the difference. I am authenticated. 

Maybe I am more fortunate than many Ataxia sufferers who have it much worse than me- 

I have heard horror stories 

but I do know that if you find a way to limit dependence on medication and the medical system and self manage your Ataxia, 

and be surrounded with supportive loved ones, 

life is richer, better and warmer.

 

 

26/12/17’

ACCEPT THE DIAGNOSIS, IGNORE THE PROGNOSIS

Carry on as normal’ is not the same as denial; with denial you pretend that the reality doesn’t exist as opposed to ‘carry on ...’ where you accept the reality but don’t give in to the anxiety it provokes, not letting that dictate your actions or limit your horizons.

With the Ataxia  I accept the diagnosis whereas I don’t worry about the prognosis; I cannot live my life now how I imagine it might be at some point in the future; so 76% of cases of SCA17 develop dementia, statistics inform me.  That means 24% don’t! Yes it makes me anxious and makes me wonder if every forgetful moment is the first sign but I dismiss that notion because I am learning (yes still learning!) not to let worry rule me and feel fine. 

Accept the diagnosis

Live your own prognosis

 

 

 6/12//17

COPYRIGHT AND TENSING, GRASPING, OWNING

Years ago, when learning dance improvisation, when improvising with a partner you were taught not to hold, not to grip- because it was fear driven - fear of falling, fear of momentum, fear of communication and gripping expressed nervousness, desire to control, to own; whenever there was  flow, gripping stopped, constricted, inhibited

"...follow the point of contact, don't hold on, stay relaxed,

no coercion, let go of thought of where to go next, l

let go of the desire to lead and be flexible to what is happening." 

if a fall happens let it, learn how to fall and recover, it was meant to be…

 

gripping tensing is  wanting to control, own. Desire to grip, to hold has many of the same attributes as  as the desire to copyright and market oneself as a holder, possessor of knowledge, a spasm of tightening, tensing

And letting go, allowing flow is similar to having a  non copyright, open access approach.

 

I hear stories of people wanting to  copyright things as their own- ways and means of unownable things like kinds of movement, actors training, ways of making music or traditions of training from Tai'Chi to voice work and see how the act of copyrighting, trying to own processes and traditions they have no right to own, prevents flow and prevents creativity. This  seems to inflate the copyright owner into becoming an untouchable expert. In order to copyright it helps to have a suspicious mind- assume that the world is out to exploit you,  the world will not celebrate and acknowledge your inventiveness, your wits, your nous.

Maybe having a risk averse approach inhibits play, discovery and invention?

A suspicious untrusting copyrighting mind

is the same as the tense gripping controlling body

which is the same as the mentality of the little nationalist who is scared of the big bad world outside, scared of the other.

Is this what makes someone want to build walls?

 

Yes, protect what's precious but maybe too much gripping and pushing away is not good and leads to coercion and power play and conflict

 

9/12/17   

Yesterday, when I was at the piano, my guitar fell over, putting it out of tune -music or performance? eye or ear?

The fall knocked some keys. I played some  tunes on guitar later and I was

1. trying to play,

2. talking  about how to perform the song that I was trying to play

3. trying to retune at the same time. I got confused and completely lost my poise, my ear and ability to be in tune.

It mattered to me intensely that I was in tune. Of course it’s part of the humour of the situation that I am out of tune; to the performer’s eyes its funny, the more intense I am the funnier or it doesn’t matter, but to the listener’s ears it’s horrible. I can play to the gallery and make the performance ‘funny’, but I lose it musically. When in doubt make the audience laugh then I am reassured that they like me,  and that is more important than being in tune.

 

Maybe that’s why that scene in Altman’s Nashville resonated so strongly for me. To recap:

A wannabe country singer, a young woman, comes to Nashville with dreams of making it big and ends up doing a freebie gig in an almost empty bar except for a couple of bored punters. Midsong, she realises that no-one is listening, so she stops playing, looks at the bored audience, and starts taking off her clothes- a striptease. ( that’s interesting- in my memory it was an empty bar. I watched the film again - it’s a big smoky bar full of drunk men- maybe it’s the appalling emptiness of the scene that has distorted my memory - the emptiness of the room becomes an empty bar in my memory. (3 hours later))

To me, it was the saddest, most humiliating scene. About wanting to perform a skill to an audience, with a dream of being applauded, recognized, appreciated, but that was not what was wanted, so you go Lowest Common Denominator to win the audience. Its an excruciating scene. Moving from the musical performance where the ear is most important, to the eye, where sexual spectacle is the easiest way to hold attention of the bored men in the bar.

 

 

29/11/17

Maybe all people who ascend hierarchies and

crave position and power are inevitable liars, hippokrits,

And have to defend positions they don’t believe in

But then most people are hippokrits anyway

whether they know it or not

(Including lil’ol’ me)

Particularly if they pretend the world is totally rational

and makes sense

 

26/11/17

WHY SO SMILY?

it annoys me 

when people say 'don't worry'

about something that is screamingly obvious 

that they are trying to deny.

 

 I'm not worried 

I can still smile

but I'm not going to pretend its not there.

 

5/11/17

 It is about 9:15am I am talking to the  rough sleeping man from New Zealand for a long long time by the bench near his temporary bench top home by the lake in Regent’s Park. Lets call him Don.  He asked me to go and meet him for a cup of tea later at the lakeside cafe later. I didn’t want to waste time. I had a long to-do list that wasn’t that urgent unless I made it so and was thinking this is not a good way to spend my day but he seemed fairly jovial. 

I go and have a cup of tea with Don later in the cafe by the side of the lake.

He sits down outside.

I go inside and order a tea. 

He comes inside and says’ do you want something to eat?’ ‘No I’m ok’ I say, 

he insists and gets me 2 croissant filled with ham and cheese. I can’t say I’m not grateful. I’m hungry.

 

He tells me that he bought a van to live in before he left NZ. It should be waiting for him back in the long stay car park at Auckland Airport. He hopes. I don’t know what his true story is. Do I care? I sense a lot of what he is telling me is true, maybe embellished, he monologues constantly. He trusts me. I don’t sense any threat from him, nor he from me. I feel he has chosen me as his confessor.

 I ate and sipped my tea as I listened to him monologue: he is a retired professor, 68, I checked out the uni he mentioned: It rings true: he has deep vein thrombosis he tells me when I notice, shocked, that his right leg is purple, the skin is scaly and there is a bloody wound on his shin. Is the flight back to NZ on Oct 30th going to be Ok for his leg? He insisted yes and showed me his blood thinning tablets. Will they let him on the flight? He claimed his leg wasn't hurting, and all was ok. Was he denying his condition? was he likely to be stranded in England?  Compassion? Worry? He seemed to have it all figured out, he insisted and I believed him. what else could I do but shore up his confidence?

 His sister is in the security services, he tells me, and guards political heavyweights in NZ, both local and travelling. He mentioned both Clinton and Obama. He was brought up on a sheep farm: he talks fondly of his dad, his childhood, he doesn’t mention his mum. He knows a lot about being at sea, sailing from islands in the Pacific Ocean to NZ. He definitely knew how to survive, how to rough it, he was neat, he slept on benches but always tidied away the cardboard he slept on, taciturn and polite, talked about the good people and bad people he had met in the park - he referred to this time of rough sleeping in the park as his 'holiday' and was surprised how nice most English  people were here - his impression of the English he had met in NZ is that they were very snotty and distant, not what he had found here, but occasionally when annoyed by the English he resorted tetchily to ‘we helped you guys out in the war. And lost a lot of lives.’

He remarked of boorishness and officious little Hitler of some park security  officers at night. And he berated a nasty woman in the cafe  who told police he might be an 'overstayer' - someone who stays beyond the dates specified in their visa.

He stinks, he thinks it is just his feet but it’s  him, it’s partly why people leave him alone. He amiable, homeless… and smelly. Olefactory self defence. its why I don’t want to go within a few feet of him. He honks. His smell lingers. I still get occasional whiffs. He is going to the barber today to have his beard cut off and head shaved, a preparation for his trip back to NZ on Wednesday 

 

When underground once he was scared and didn’t like it, so he came back to where he felt safe: on a bench in the open air possibly the most beautiful spacious place  in london. Location location location! hotel developers would pay lots for a view like that.

 

 

The next day, in the afternoon, I bumped into him at Marylebone station looking all clean shaven scrubbed and smily. He hasn’t gone home yet. ‘I’ve booked into the Travelodge’ he said. I looked at him and then asked him round for dinner. ‘I don’t smell do I? I’ve had a shower and bought some new shoes.’

 I didn’t smell anything at the station but when he came round there was an aroma. He struggled up the stairs he said it took him half an hour to get his new shoes on. He seemed disoriented and withdrawn. It turns out I was the only English person who had invited him into their home in his 6 months in England . He told me all his family smell, they have smelly sweat he doesn’t like crowds; he panics, then sweats when he panics. Then people notice the smell and look at him and move away, and he is lame and diabetic. He doesn’t stay long,he is awkward but grateful. He mumbles that he has to go. I walk him back to his hotel. I hope they let him on the NZ flight and he gets home ok before the nights turn cold here. He said he is looking forward to going home. Mad? Probably. Bad? No. Smelly? definitely. I hope his thrombosis didn’t play up on his flight home

 

 

27/10/17

So amidst dealing krappily with the krapp that I bin delt

 

 I take a walk and some pictures-

 

its nice out there,

 

and its good to remember that the nether world is full of hidden angels

 

 and it’s ower job apparently to make them appere in our world as we live. 

 

Rilke said that. 

 

But the shy etheral buggers generally don't.

 

Maybe we are blind

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

13/10/17

Jedburgh. So it’s 3 am it’s dark I can hear the wind outside and I am alone in my parents house with a load of books.

 Feeling fragile and alone? Well not really; I cannot feel alone and fragile because I feel connected to people precious to me across the world who with strength and optimism are dealing with the effects of natural catastrophes: Pilar and Pedro in Puerto Rico, Stephen in California with a houseful of refugees from the fire there and on the train up here from London I was talking with 2 young women from Houston Texas who seemed on one level very naive white Texan but were both nurses who had been working in hospitals in the city dealing with people impacted by Hurricane Irma. They were both ardent Trump supporters and scared of Mexican invaders. I’ve never met Trump supporters before

So who am I to feel sad for my plight? I have known this situation has been coming, and can feel hard done by because  of my  ataxia, my teeth, my economic situation, not having seen my daughter, my parents, my aloneness but really, count my blessings, when this world is suffering. Fires, hurricanes, plastic in the food chain ...I know we can only deal with our own situation but ….

 

12/9/17

 

Something survives from before

 

Just as things constantly change and  nothing is final, 

and there is always something pretentious about revolutionary change, 

 

change that denies the past

there is always something left, something that survives of before

 

of previous culture, 

 

of previous way of being, 

 

whether a thing, 

 

A scrap of paper,

A belief,

A habit,

the wave of a hand

 

A breath

 

3/9/17

2 Rats

I was practising balance and stillness in the park this morning whenI was approached by 2 big  inquisitive rats  - 

 

This manicured park has loads of vermin lurking. If your noisy they stay hidden and you'd never know. 

 

But balancing on one leg, the  stiller I am, the more nervousness rustling, rattling and rats I sense.

 

I am discovering the benefits of stillness and quiet - it is NOT being passive; it is actively listening. 

 

If you are making less noise then the world around you, 

 

it comes out to play ...

 

Thankyou rat but keep your distance

 

 

 

13/8/17

 

Families expect domestic bliss and togetherness to continue for ever,

 

but familiar forms fall apart and the child leaves the family. 

 

Carrying the essence of what they know as a hidden seed,

 

 like a burr brushed past caught coincidentally and carried  on a sock.

 

It will flower sometime in the future

 

The child doesn't choose  its parents

 

 

6/8/17

WANDERING GOODIE

Do you see that tallman?' she said, as a doctor approached a nearby patient on nearby bed,

' he' she said secretively, 'is a wandering goodie'

The phrase 'This hospital is full of wandering goodies' came into my head.

I laughed at the thought - it sounded like guardian angels or wandering souls. I imagined these nomadic spirits wandering around our world looking for a place to help people in trouble and congregating around places like hospitals.

 

Later, wanting to write more but in a quandary because she had triggered the image, 

I said to her 'can we make a collaboration?'

 I imagined a story around the idea of the Wandering Goody.

 She inspired it but I would write it.

'You don't have to ask me to collaborate ' she said as she lay weakly semiconscious on her hospital bed,

she had probably forgotten that she even said 'wandering goodie'

 

 

 

 

 

2/8/17

TICKBOX

RESEARCH INTO TICKBOXES

You may tick more than one box if they apply. Think and be

truthful

Do you like tickbox questionnaires?

     yes

     No

     Yes, but with reservations

     No but they are useful sometimes

 

Do you use tickboxes?

     Always

     Very often

     Occasionally

     Never

 

Do you like yes/no questions?

     Yes

     No

     Occasionally

     Sometimes

 

Thats alright then isn’t it?

     I strongly agree

     I strongly disagree

 

Do you agree with this statement: “If it was always good i’d

be much happier”

     I agree

     I disagree

     I nearly agree

     I nearly disagree

     Nothing is perfect

 

Do you like it when things go wrong?

     Always

     Very often

     Occasionally

     Never

 

Generally, do things chug along nicely for you?

     Always

     Very often

     Occasionally

     Never

 

Do you want it to be perfect?

     Always

     Very often

     Occasionally

     Never

 

And when is it perfect?

     Always

     Never

     More often if I worked at it

How often do you think?

     Always

     Very often

     Occasionally

     Never

 

How do you feel?

     Numb

     I don’t

     Emotional

     I can’t explain

 

If I was to ask you an open ended question how would you

answer?

     An open ended question?

     Yes

     No

 

Are you positive?

     Always

 

     Occasionally

     Often

     Never

 

Is this a joke?

Yes

No

You’re weird

Don’t be silly. A box is a box is a box

 

Do we know more about you than when we started this

questionnaire?

     Yes, I feel robbed, naked and ripped off

     Slightly

     Depends on what algorithm you are using to assess the

results

     No, I am an unknowable fortress and mystery even to my

closest friends

     Who? me?

 

Complete the following sentence using one of the following

options:

Tickboxes ________

     1)______  magically sum up what I was thinking anyway

     2) _____ are rubbish. Who cares? I just tick any box and

     move on

     3) _____are great because they distil all my thoughts

     into a simple yes no decision thereby circumventing

     much  angst and verbal diarrhoea enabling the assessor

     to see how  I truly truly feel.

     4)___ are  a bit freaky because I don’t know how who

     is going to see them

     5) If you truly cared for me you would give me a big box

     like the one below where I could explain exactly how I

     truly am.

     6) I don’t understand this form of question. 

         I want a tickbox please (ok).

 

please read this survey aloud to friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please put any other comments or feelings in the box

below.

What box?

 

 

Thankyou for completing this survey.

 Please return to jonijonjon@mac.com

 

 

 

30/07/18

MAD PEOPLE IN POWER

How polished and efficient it all is,

How trimmed the lawns are,

How lumberingly efficient the big bureaucracy is (well at least its there),

but how thin this veneer of civilisation is.

Is it sturdy? could it all just crumble?

What if … could it… just stop working?

 

 

 

 

28/7/18

GRENFELL

Although I live near, less than 2miles from Grenfell Tower and though I remember hearing about it at 4.30am when I awoke, while it was happening, I have never had an inclination to go there. I KNOW ITS HORRIBLE I remember that morning wondering whether to go down and help, and deciding not to when I heard they were swamped with helpers. I had no idea of the enormity of the event, but knew there was going to be big reverberations about it. Today, 28th July, a few weeks later, was the first time I had wanted to go near Grenfell. I had seen enough images of the burnt out tower. It was in the news again today -the police reckon they now have enough evidence to sue Kensington and Chelsea Council for ‘corporate manslaughter.' Today for the first time I felt the urge to go there. 

I caught the tube from Edgware Road and travelled the 4stops to Latimer Road station. It only took a few minutes and I thought of my few encounters with out of control fire and fear.

I remember when I was 15 the church a few doors up caught fire in the early morning  and although I couldn’t see the window there was a red glow on the wall and my father shouting get up and get out the house!

I remember when I was a young boy being near a heathfire at Blackbushe Aerodrome  watching these wild flames consuming land and I remember being scared whether to watch or move as the wind blew the wild flames unpredictably.

I remember sitting by the warm fireside and hearth at home, staring into the flames of burning logs and learning  from my father how to build fires.

I remember  as an 11 year-old as schoolboy prank starting a small fire that got out of hand, setting fire to about 100 yards of railway embankment.

I remembered the last time of being in NYC in July 2001 and from the roof of our place on 2nd Avenue between 4th and 5th and seeing the top of the Empire StateBuilding  in midtown round to the two towers of the World Trade Centre and couldn’t imagine that those towers has less than 2 months left.

And now heading to Grenfell I had that same sick feeling only fire and tragedy can arouse. 

Coming out of the tube station at Latimer Road and looking up at the burnt out block, a familiar image but its always small in a newspaper or on a screen and it does not prepare you for the enormity of the looming dark presence towering above you and I couldn’t look without imagining the hell what was now such a still shel. That area will not begin to recover until it is demolished

The eerie quiet in the streets around, a lot of flowers, (some old, some fresh) yellow ribands tied round trees, railings, candles and lanterns in pavement corners knitted tributes everywhere, shop windows had hurriedly printed pictures of people missing. the area had obviously been inundated with visitors who trampled and gawped - a sign saying ‘Please keep off- we’re growing a garden here’ the residents resigned sad and resentful with that tired knowing slow look. A couple of police officers walking slowly around. On a deserted street corner with the burnt out block behind them a tv crew and besuited reporter stuck out like an inevitable sore thumb. A man came up to me and complained that he couldn’t get close enough to get a good picture ‘I bet there were many good pics on the night’ he said not realising how gross he sounded.He used to work in the area he said. But although his sickness was obvious and big, the sadness of the place was bigger than his sickness. I couldn't judge him. What was I doing there? I didn’t want to stay long, but I needed to witness this, I needed to  be there. I was glad to leave the area. It's sad and suffocating. I  returned to the tube to get out and directed a woman with a big bunch of flowers to where other had laid theirs.

 

 

 

23/07/17

Even though (if its going to be effective) it can't admit it,  

rational thought and logic are a tool at the service of the  

warmth kindness and connectivity of the heart.

 

23/07/17

 I realised this morning I have always been mildly Ataxic and unbalanced by others or drawn into their world and lost touch with my own world. 

Become disorientated, a bit clumsy, out of step.  

"That's just who you are"

The only difference is now I have  been diagnosed  with Ataxia and it is developing and visible. 

I cannot deny it, so have to be more conscious of my every move and how I survive as it becomes more obvious, as  I become clumsier, iller. 

In other words, carry on as before, but more intensely, less reactive more proactive, I just have to be better.

 

 

11/07/17

IMAGINARY PERFORMANCE

What if …

 Everyone developed a syndrome where everyone thought everyone else was mad so they  moved away from everyone else and looked at them suspiciously

Everyone refused to acknowledge anyone and became increasingly isolated. 

Everyone felt better than anyone around them. 

Everyone thought they were obviously right and everyone else was wrong

There were no conversations in public places. 

No strangers met, no chance encounters. 

The world of people was increasingly predictable. 

Whenever anyone said anything or did anything they were thought weird and insensitive for disturbing the quiet

Loud voices, big gestures were sure signs of madness. 

What if …

Into this world came a man with a wobbly walk, a stutter, and involuntary twitches, a man who talked to strangers

What if  …

They all wore hats and veils and dark glasses, except the outsider …

 

8/7/17

WARM GROUND

I witnessed a weird climate phenomenon: the air was a  cooler than the ground this morning,  I wondered why I was wearing a T-shirt- there were goose pimples on my arms but  in the park  it felt warmer. I felt the ground, it was warmer than the air above it - the ground must have absorbed so much from hot weather over past few days.

 

 

7/7/17

So I can suspend ego and be all holier than thou when learning something but when I achieve a certain level of competence, ego kicks in and I start playing to and finding any audience I can. Ay Ay Ay! the trials and tribulations of being a performer! where handling unruly ego is bound up in PRACTISING YOUR CRAFT, because your craft is training your body and becoming adept at communicating with an audience.

After  you've been trying and trying again and not getting better, the anxious thought comes in ' what a waste of time! Why not just give up you are obviously not meant for this others are much better but the only thing that makes you continue is ego determination ' now will ignore the anxiety and  carry on ...'

When I allow anxiety to reach me  I am unbalanced mentally, and that unbalances me physically, so I work physically on improving my balance. work on breath, mental focus on weight and movement There is no barrier between mental and physical. hy is it so obvious to anyone who works with their body but 'woo woo' and hard to test to convince scientists and rational types?And so I  get calm.