09.10
The first night's sleep on this time zone, and awoken by Sister calling in from the airport in Florida here she is en route to Los Angeles. Once upon a time she was always in SF when we came through town; now, she travels more than I do. The advantage of that is, we meet to play in more places than before. And for the next few days it's Los Angeles.
Last night: audience & group were both equal to each other, I felt. We met and engaged, and supported each other. Several flashes, but the effects of them were contained & neutralised by the overall atmosphere. Do I believe that the presence of a Mevlevi sheikh contributed to the show's noosphere? You bet! Jelal also came to see Crimson in San Francisco in 1981.
Before the show I checked with Josh at FOH for his response & feel for Friday night. He felt that the Crim team all played our part, did our job, and punter comments suggested the sound was better than on Thursday. His take was also that something didn't quite happen. An additional point: a security person hustled him because he wasn't wearing his laminate when he got to the theatre, and threatened not to let him in. This he dealt with through Laurie, but the security guy's negativity coloured something.
This is a very important point, particularly here at DGM for those who wander into cyberland and dump onto the public being. Dealing with negativity is a very considerable accomplishment. In public matters DGM, FC & RF are very clear: any expression of negativity is to be made "positively"; ie cleanly & without side. Then, it can be addressed in a straightforward way.
11.55
A wonderful morning. A call to Toyah & then a nip along the block to the The Crepevine for coffee, then back to Chez Sister to sit in her dining room with Eddie the English & Ken Wilber.
Patricia's house is a celebration of her family, with photographs covering a century placed throughout the house. The dining chair on which I sat, at the table with sideboard covered in decorative plates, this furniture we grew up alongside on Leigh Road before it moved to our Parents' retirement home at Rowlands Hill, Wimborne; and then to Millside Close with Mother in her widowhood. Then, here. On the refrigerator are photos of Toyah & myself, and the late Beaton Bunnerius Bun. Our wedding photos at Witchampton church, with Mother & Sister present, then the three of us seeing Mother off, also at Witchampton church. A leap of the imagination and I am in contact with that sacred part of earth in Deepest Dorset which is presently our home.
These quiet Sunday mornings, when they arise, sustain me through the rest of the mayhem.
