In My Dreams You Will Change

It’s almost eleven and I am starving for Chinese food but the coffers cannot afford it so I will eat Melba Toast instead even though it’s vile for more than P Or flavour. Get colours back again Green, Red, Blue, Green, Yellow, smellow all over polka-dots. It’s a labour of love for me. I used to write green. Now I write all colours of the rainbow under duress. Why? I let myself believe I am an artist, writer etc and then someone reminds me of something I have done and that thought about being an artist becomes old but nothing contradicts it. So the next time someone talks about artists doing something in short, I think Oh they could be referring to me. Now this is not to say I have not ever thought that I’d fit the job description, should ‘they’ write one. AND IN PART THAT’S WHAT BROUGHT ME HERE TODAY. An advert that I thought fit me.

As for the BBC well that’s cooler than can be. Morecombe and Wise I grew up wanting to produce. I used to imagine what went on backstage between scenes but I never got asked is that something you would like to do and I did WANT to be a fireman or to have a pension which sounded sensible so I never got around to it until … the awakening.

The awakening happened gradually then suddenly like, well, something sudden that slapped me around the face and said ’You are only alive this once what would you like to do? Amongst artists as I was I still felt uncomfortable saying it. Producer. Easy to say I  thought but I’m too old to get the chance unless I really go underground and start making porno. But No. Other avenues beckoned like theatre groups, Edinburgh Fringe Festival and local arts centres then drawing digitally and with pencil, books and more books and enough self-doubt to sink the Queen Mary II or those two new Aircraft Carriers currently being commissioned near Glasgow. Well that was back in 2008/9 and since then I have harboured this fledgling dream which I have nurtured like  a baby bird until it is well, what it is today looking for a chance to fly away.

Caught  between reflections of fire and chance and superstitious glances I have no time for a master plan . Usually I take it week by week and see what comes.

And those close to me would say ‘you can always leave it for another day’ And I thought I knew what they were talking about until I decided that day.

The mind works in mysterious ways and I have half consciously made an effort half guided by my subconscious desires made a play for what is happening today.

TV is my world made big on the small screen. There is usually something on that gets my bone.

 

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