Yesterday Katy called me up, talking in twenty different directions, she's got these artworks, she needs them photographed, scanned, made into posters. I listened to her through a migrainous fog, still trying to get by without the pills (like you always do), just at that stage where I'm too rough to quite cope and too stupid to do anything about it and too weird to quite make sense. Thankfully her conversational style gives me all the time I need to think up the right three questions to ask, and she has the right answers, so I say yes, I'll do it. So today I get to work surrounded by 50X50cm Warholised pictures of Elijah, Theo, Kes and the others, made by blowing up poloroids and attacking them with acrylic and collage materials. It's certainly added some colour to the office :) ... not too happy with the performance of Mavica, though. Must fiddle a bit. Wonder how easy it is to reproduce this effect in Adobe Photoshop (jeremy fiddles for a bit. Oooh! New trick.)
Yesterday again. Vicky and I aren't at our best for film school. She had a stomach bug at the weekend, and had managed to throw up so hard she's bust the blood vessels in one eye and down the front of her neck, and it hurts ... Faced with the twin asynchronous flicker of the TV screen and the computer scream, my head attempts an emergency shutdown ... we take pills, we sort of recover, but I'm not getting as much out of this as I ought to ... but the music fits so well I can;t really be cross. I play with titles, but I wish I'd done more, kept a sharper eye, been more insistent. Probably as well I didn't. I'm so close to being insufferable already.
And then the cinema burnt down. Where am I going to watch Spideman now?
Shit. The pill's beginning to wear off already. It's only been four hours! Am I getting used to them?
Today's creepy moment comes courtesy of giggle bunny -- anyone else feel a tad voyeuristic?
