We did, it turns out, have a Covid test available, and it was negative. My pains and fever persisted for 12 or 24 hours, then stopped in a manner which suggested something other than a cold; perhaps hypothermia or a stomach disorder. After a night of terrible stomach pain, my energy recovered well enough by yesterday to get lots of little jobs completed.
First, the final filing of Snow Business, then the postponement of Wednesday's Artistic Echoes performance and video interview in 2A King Edward Street. This will now take place on December 20th.
Then work on the We Robot CD artwork. This album was my first in years where I didn't design a full set of CD artwork during production. This, it turns out, was a somewhat ironic choice as I now needed the artwork for a batch of CDs. There are benefits to designing the art later; in particular I could use artwork from the music videos. This will be my first song album to feature all of the lyrics, I think. As usual, I'm choosing the best quality options for the CD manufacture, so an 8-page booklet, printing inside and out and on the disc.
I slept well overnight, with a complex dream:
I was trying to fix the thermostat on the water heater in the bathroom, my mum was present trying to assist. It was a small black plastic device which looked a bit like the switches used on lamp cords. It had simple electronics in, seemingly a short red wire and an old fashioned bicycle-type light bulb. I made some changes and re-attached to the wall; it fitted below the heater at the crux of a vaguely 'Y' shaped junction made from similar matt black plastic, held there precariously by tension.
The thermostat was somehow connected to Snow Business and Bandcamp and I noticed, when checking my email, that two sales/payments had not gone through because the thermostat was not working. I took it down again and realised that I needed two screws of the right diameter to hold both halves together. The ones that were there before were very long, about 50mm machine screws. I couldn't find the screws, or any of the right diameter. I went down stairs to look for some. The house, for some reason, was my grandmother's and I emerged into her garden and out-house. People were talking outside, including my mother, and I think my grandmother too. I couldn't find any screws and went back upstairs to find parts of the thermostat missing; the bulb was gone, and the plastic shell was almost empty. I became angry and upset.
At this point I think there was a sequence of scenes as though from a film, including one of a 1950s-era policeman talking about why someone would steal something so unimportant. I, as an extra (or a detective or other character) in this film, formed my own conclusion and left the scene. I became Omar Sharif. For some reason my children and wife were killed by the lack of the thermostat and I was left alone and filled with despair and anger. I joined the British army in Victorian times and became a violent warrior, killing women and children mercilessly in revenge at those who had stolen the thermostat parts. Some time later, I was at a garden function as a war hero in my red dress uniform, a sunlit garden of light gravel, conversing with officer friends. There were several exceedingly fat women present, including Queen Victoria herself, her dome-like body wobbling below a tiny head. I was receiving some sort of reward for good service. At some point I went home with a flash of inspiration or realisation. I broken open the old rooms where I and my wife and children used to sleep, those were sealed shut and somehow frosted shut. Inside, some balloons were hanging from the walls on ribbon, and holding them up was one of the long screws I needed for the thermostat. I realised that my children had innocently borrowed them to secure the balloons, that my vengeance was misguided.
Today, the CDs have been ordered and I'll have a few on sale and on offer, notably for the Decemeber 20th gig, so a delay has helped. I'll also have a few ready for the December 14th show in the Macc Art Lounge, though the details for that need to be finalised. Last time, Deb and I did a relaxed poem or two in the day, but perhaps this time a few We Robot songs would work. Everything will need to be checked with Ché.
I've also prepared a little more for my second release of 2024, the remastered Cycles & Shadows. This too will involve some CD printing as it will be impossible for me to sell the 2017 editions of Cycles, now that I know how good the new version sounds! I could simply burn individual copies for the very few remaining albums here, or order a new batch. We shall see.
Onwards we charge.
