As the Christmas holidays drew to a close, the prospect of a return to university was dawning on me. What next ? What now ? Why does Christmas always go so fast ?
With an assignment still to do and an exam coming up it was clear that the festive period was now over. My fellow students on my course were readying themselves leaving home once again while I, already at home, was readying myself to work. The cold dark January days has begun, the post Christmas blues and memories that once seemed recent were now even more faded. A memory would Flicker, an image of yourself and someone who you once loved on an old bridge in a beautiful old Italian city, at the height of summer, “it doesn’t look real does it?” I recall her saying to me with a gaze of her big gorgeous blue eyes, a wave of her chestnut hair blowing gently in the Tuscan wind, myself barely able to believe that I was really in this moment, with this person, at this time. A flicker. It would pass, fade back to A cold January evening in early 2018, outside in the back garden gazing at the stars, seeing the same constellations you pointed out to her on a night down at Lulworth Cove, forever ago. I stand, alone, in the dark, smoking, wondering what might 2018 produce? What opportunities for future flickerings of happiness? What steering highs ? What desperate lows ? Amongst all this change, all this love and hurt, all those moments, I remember something. TIME. Time moves at an alarming rate, deafening silences change to indifference. Pain turns to peace, but what neber does change is my procrastination in leaving assignments to the last bloody minute.....
After three days of crazed working I did get my assignment in on time, what was next was the exam, I hadn’t done an exam since I was 16, in year 11 back in 2008...as an Individual who worries enough about what other think, it dawned on me that exams actually scare me more. A lot more. I arrived at the exam location, 15 minutes early. I saw 2 or 3 of my peers from my course and immediately lit a cigarette, I may not have shown it, I don’t know, I can’t see myself, but I was fucking scared. We walked in, we found the room, where a man who can only be described as England’s most angry was lying in wait. We began. The exam as it turned out wasn’t too bad. The man however was. Possibly the most miserable prick I’ve ever come across.
Following the days after the exam I got an email from a certain John Agnello. A month earlier I’d sent over around 15 questions for him to answer for a q and a interview. John, a producer from (I think) New York has worked on a few albums that I love. When saying hi, I neber expected to get an interview so upon getting the interview, I was pretty bloody happy. A slight return to music journalism.
Now I’m off to revise for another exam....
Then I’m off to Barcelona.
Exciting times.
Me and Dad in Barcelona (Jan 1993)
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