A look back at the year

 Well, that was....interesting, wasn't it? Another year of uncertainty, and drift. Stress levels off the charts, at points. It was one of those years that - while I wouldn't say "forget it" - I'd certainly just use it as a mere building block, for better things. Perhaps the best thing for me has been the advent of my training: properly organising my fitness levels, and structuring a way to maintain, and improve that fitness. It's kept me focused, and energised. It's given me a reason to get out there and cycle around this beautiful county. It's given me a way to sit on an indoor bike when the elements are fighting me just a little too hard.

And - the year has been marked by the return of my blog, for which I'm also very thankful. The page has been an anchor, at certain points over the last couple of decades, I'd like that to continue. 

It's been a year of some wonderful music, as well. There have been some years that have struggled to make an impact, musically: these have periodically popped up, since around the mid-2000s. But last year was another vintage crop.  I'll have a go at embedding a Spotify playlist in a blogger gadget, perhaps *sigh*

But I'd better head off - it's time to head up another hill - the last of the year. Take care, stay safe, I'll see you all on the other side x

God bless us all, everyone.

 Have a Goth Xmas! Well, have any sort of Xmas, basically. As long as you're all safe and healthy, and you're happy and fulfilled - that's good enough for me. 

It's been a good day here - lots of food, lots of presents, not too many arguments, not too much stress. That bloody head cold still refuses to shift, which is a bit of a nightmare. Still testing negative (I think it's nine in a row, and 11 in a 2 week period) but I'm left with an annoying little cough, and what feels like a head that's entirely composed of cotton wool.  I'm dog tired, too. Need to recharge my batteries. Mind you, it's also a week where I need to maintain pressure on my cycling training as well. There will be a Wanyudo club ride tomorrow - got to keep on keepin' on. 

Spinning out of control

 

Well, it might have been a bit of a headcold yesterday, but it REALLY hit me, today. Of course, this means I'm at the "constantly talking about my illness" stage of my illness, so I'm hoping it has peaked. I felt truly horrid this morning, but as the day has passed, I've begun to feel a little better. 

The Chris Cohen album has helped. It's been a day of drift, of time just....passing me by. If you've read any of my posts over the last week or so, you will probably have guessed that is something of a relief. 

I'm going to have some soba noodles, and (hopefully) an early night. That should do it. 

Another busy week

 And it was packed full of riding, which was good (in the circumstances). The way everything's going, lockdown-wise, it might soon be the only escape from yet another period of enforced isolation. Oh well.

But, it's been hectic, that's for sure. As Xmas approaches, the time seems to vanish from underneath me. Plus, I managed to get another cold (no, nothing worse - still testing negative on the LFT). So, tonight I'm sitting here feeling somewhat sorry for myself, wondering whether to take another dose of Paracetamol or not. A proper head cold means my head is spinning a little, but I did still manage to get onto the trainer, for some Wanyudo action, in the morning. A brief trip to Paris-Roubaix (minus the cobbles, obv)

I'm off to get my head together. More tomorrow.

The magic inbetween.

 I was thinking about magnets today. 

Yeah, I know - meme time, right?

But anyway - thinking about how you can't see the magic, the actual stuff that boggles your mind. Magnetism is the magic you can't see, that happens between the magnets that you can see. The space in between, that contains all of the wonders, and the indefinable things that occur in the distance between a blink of the eyes, and the drawing of a breath.

All of this hit me when I was walking across Waterloo Bridge, on my way to lunch with two of my oldest friends and companions. Back in London, for the first time in well over a year. Back in the city I love, in the city that raised me. I looked all around, and suddenly saw everything that happened in that space. I could see myself, in cabs, crossing the rainy streets of the embankment at dawn. Walking arm in arm with a lover, along the pavement. Running through these back streets and alleys, catching trains and tubes. On my way to meetings, to a job, to a photo session, to meet friends, or just to kill time.

Now, that time was reversing, and coming right back at me: the memories tumbled back through my mind, so fast and intensely that I actually gasped. I could see everything I was then, everything I was now. Both parts of my life, happening at the same time. I've always thought that time isn't linear, it's like a ripple. We're not on a straight path, from birth to death - our entire existence surrounds us, constantly. What has been, and what will be, circling ourselves in the present. I was momentarily lost in the wonder of it all. To be encircled by your life, to see it all laid out like that was hugely moving. And it wasn't maudlin, either: no weeping for what was past, only a sense of gratitude for a life lived, and for the experience and knowledge that it imparts. 

I walked over the bridge and headed towards the Strand, full of life, and love, and London. 

Where did my week go?

 I've no idea, but somehow it vanished. Some cycling (but not enough) some jobs around the house (the leaking shower was finally repaired) and a lot of.......hustle and bustle.

But this weekend brought with it some DJ'ing, which was an absolute joy. Looking at the news, with the latest Covid developments, it really doesn't look good - to the point where today's time on the decks could conceivably be the last for a little while longer than planned. Let's see. That's my DJ partner Dylan in the photos, as we're rocking the crowd yet again. It was spectacularly successful et, I think: lots of new tunes, lots of exploration, and evolution, when it comes to sound. To be somewhat nerdy, we managed to do so much more, with fewer "ramps". These are the points in the set where you would otherwise give the tempo a nudge, kick it up by a BPM or two, and change the intensity of the tunes. Today, we operated between around 124 and 129 for a good sixty or seventy minutes; and we still managed to pack a lot in. I'm proud of what we can do, when we put our minds to it.

Col D'Aspin

 

Well, that's what it looks like IRL, of course - and I was on the trainer, the whole time - but, even so; what a wonderful way to while away an hour. 

Or, a bit less. I actually hammered up there in about 43 minutes, took two and a half minutes of my previous time, and spent 40% of my time in Zone 5. I'm not sure how I didn't actually explode.

Today - a good day though. After dropping Milo off at school, we headed over to Wisley, to buy Xmas gifts, and a wreath for the front door. After that, some chores (old clothes to the charity shop) and a visit to Ashtead Garden Centre for a light lunch. Despite the appalling weather (storm Barra) it's been a good 'un. And I'm fully intending to wrap the day up by reading some more of "London Belongs To Me", which I've become obsessed with. What an incredible book! I do love reading - it's difficult to find books that replace the ease of just nibbling about on the 'net, but when I find one, I tend to hold onto it, as tight as possible. The same thing happened with Murakami. 

遠くの愛好家

 Or, to be more precise - "Distant Lovers". 

After feeling VERY frazzled yesterday (did you notice?), my mental health seems to have recovered, today. Thank goodness for that. In no small part, it was down to songs like this - from one of the greatest Vaporwave albums, ever.  "Birth Of a New Day", by HKE and Telepath  - or 2 8 1 4. If you've never heard any Vaporwave, or you're predisposed to be cynical of the genre, please, give this a try - it's amazing.

I listened to the entire album, whilst rolling, at considerable speed, down the Passo dell Erbe, in the Dolomites. Hurrah! for Bkool and cycling, generally. Truly, I needed it today.

Busy weekend.

 That was actually taken on Friday. It seems like a lifetime ago. This weekend has exhausted me, I feel frazzled - on the edge, if I'm honest. My energy has deserted, amidst all of the activity. There have been children's birthday parties, swimming galas. There have been decorations coming out of the loft, trees to get up, a house to prepare. Christmas always feels like some sort of mad race, to the end of the year now, and that lurch, when the race starts, is disconcerting. I need to get back to solid ground, tomorrow. I need to feel a little less marooned. Sorry for unloading, but what else is a blog for, eh?

Ho Ho Ho

 It actually felt a bit Christmassy today, waking up to a dusting of snow. Plus, the preparations have started, the advent calendars are being opened, etc. It'll all ramp up, from here on in. 

My week on the trainer has continued apace, with a LOT of hills. Since Sunday, I've done 2300 metres of elevation. I've decided not to focus so much on distance - just want to get climbing. That's an area where the smart trainer excels. Doing more than an hour or so is a bit of a chore, so it makes sense for that hour to be as intense as possible. It has made me rethink a lot of things - chiefly, how small a lot of the hills I ride in the real world actually are. In the past few days, I've done climbs which are - say - ten kilometres long, climbing all that way, at an average of seven, to eight per cent. That's akin to doing something like Box Hill, except it doesn't stop at the top, it keeps going, for another three or four times.

I'm hoping it gives me some increased stamina, come the start of next season!

Bitterly cold, a little stasis.

 

But that's fine, for this time of year, isn't it? This song has been in my ears all day - partly thanks to my good friend Nick. We've had a long-running discord chat going, ever since the beginning of the pandemic. Initially, it was done just to keep in touch; remember that feeling we all had, when COVID hit, like we'd lose everything, and everyone we knew, and we all needed contact? Well, it was that, for a while, but it's grown into a rambling fulmination on life and music. Nada Surf arrived in the chat, and that led me to this. Life is like Pinball sometimes - and you know my predilection for that, don't you?

Stasis today - partly the result of a long Wanyudo CC ride yesterday. 900 metres of elevation, in about 30k, and it was punchy - time-wise. I was going to head up Sa Calobra today, but I'll leave it until tomorrow. For now, I'll sit with Milo while he plays Plants Vs. Zombies, and think about cooking evening meals for everyone.

Back to it

 I'd taken a day off, yesterday. For some reason, I was absolutely exhausted, my legs didn't feel up to anything, so I sat it out. Today - time to hop back onto the trainer. The photo above is what I see when I'm out on a ride - that's a tablet, so it's not the biggest screen, but it really doesn't matter, too much. For the first week, or so, the tablet had issues, and I was forced to use a phone, instead. To be honest, it wasn't that much of a difference. You just move the screen closer to you, and it fills your field of vision in much the same way. But, with the tablet, you can see all the stars in detail - this is hugely important, as any cyclist worth their salt will tell you.

Looking at that - 300-ish calories, about half an hour in. That's OK - it's 900 an hour if I'm on a smashfest, or about 400 if I'm pootling. 172 bpm heart rate: well, I'm going up a mountain, so that figures. The average speed is about 18km/h, which is good, and I'm putting out an average of 211 watts. Again, fairly decent. 

But the best thing about all of this is that I'm inside, heading up a mountain, in the Spanish sunshine. The weather here has been awful - cold, wet, dank. Tonight will be worse, by all accounts, as storm Arwen rolls in. All of this means I'm back on the trainer tomorrow. 

Tonight, I'm relaxing, and hunkering down. I think there will be some snow, overnight. Time to get warm.

A widescreen day

 That's how it felt, to be out on a bike today, in the Surrey Hills, on a crisp November morning. Leaves turning a thousand different colours, the sun fighting through the clouds, a gentle breeze, and a crispness in the air that left your face tingling. Above is a slightly wider shot to the one I posted on my Facebook feed. You can see across the road, from where I'm perched atop my Trek Domane, lord of all I survey.

So, that's Box Hill, and after this shot, I turned around, and headed back down, from whence I came. Then, over the main road, past Westhumble Station, and off to Ranmore Common Road (see my post below!) and then up Chapel Lane (Bagden Hill) That's a proper climb - short, and very sharp. Perfect. 

After the briefest of turnarounds, we decided to pop into town, for lunch. Pizza Express - which means I can check out their new Vegan menu- the Jackfruit Pepperoni was absolutely wonderful, and was washed down with an Acqua Panna; the most fantastic mineral water in the world. Life's good, today.

Domestic Bliss.

 

The log burner is on (yeah, I know) the cat is warming himself, The stereo is playing Monk, and Bud Powell. I'm thinking about eating leftover Curry (some Tarka Dal!) and I've got another armful of the vaccine. Got my booster this morning, at a walk-in pharmacy in Surbiton. COVID seems to still be circling around the kids, recently - friends of theirs have all been afflicted, so it seems as good a time as any to up my resistance.

Need to get going with a few things, as well - have to post my old passport back, get cooking (kids want some fish and chips) and drum up some sort of bulletin for tomorrow's NME Audio broadcast. I've taken a day off the bike today, but I'll be back tomorrow. I've4been thinking about doing the Col D'Aspin again, it's such a beautiful location, and glorious to ride - even if I'm only looking at it on a tablet!

Is that it?

 For the great outdoors, I mean?

It seems as though it could be. The weather is certainly not set fair, for the next week. Bitterly cold, apparently, with more breezy conditions. So, after a week where I made sure to enjoy cycling the Surreylanes as much as possible, it could be back to the turbo trainer, for a while. That's not necessarily a bad thing: today saw me pelting down AlpeD'Huez, and then heading back up Llanberis pass. I do love the variety of locations it's possible to visit. 

All that - from the comfort of my front room.

Today, apart from the mountains, it's been a day to renew a passport and think about booking flights. A day to ponder future plans. A day to light the fire, sit on the sofa and listen to Thelonius.

 

Ranmore

That's Ranmore Common Road. Perhaps my favourite hill to ride - even though a "favourite" is difficult to describe, as such. With hills, the ones you love, tend to also be the ones you fear, slightly. When you start your ascent, there's always a voice in the back of your mind - "do I have to do this today?", that little bubbling feeling of self-doubt. It's always balanced by the feeling of achievement, once you arrive at the top. Ranmore is one of those. 

It's a deceptive hill, the first section is quite easy - no more than 6%, gradual, and relatively straight. The hedges are high, the verge is steep. You quickly realise you're being funnelled along. After passing a couple of farm buildings, and some paddocks, the woods appear. As soon as you hit the tree line, there's a subtle change. The gradient ticks up, and it feels like the hill is getting warmed up. 

In the photo above, you might just detect a slight bend to the left, in the distance. That's where the ramps kick in. There's a couple, about two-thirds of the way in, the first is almost imperceptible, the second more pronounced. But they're enough to mess with your rhythm - and if you've gone off too hard, they'll bite you.

You can see them on this Veloviewer profile of the hill - those two little orange bands. But then, once you're done with the ramps, everything rears up, even more. That kick to the left is the final hairpin, by which point the hill is at around 12%, perhaps a little more. The hairpin also tends to foul up your climbing rhythm and cadence, as it seeks to throw you in one of two directions. The first is to the very inside of the curve, where the gradient will momentarily be ridiculously steep. It'll pass within seconds, but those seconds will do all they can to sap your momentum. Or, you'll head for the wider outside of the bend, where the gradient is much kinder. However, this wastes time, and you'll be fighting the urge to catch up with any other riders - when an extra burst of energy is least advised. The last section is a grim sprint to the top, where the trees part, and you emerge by the top of Denbies vineyard. 

When I first rode the hill, it must have been six or seven years ago. I went up in nine minutes, and I'm fairly sure I had to stop and compose myself, momentarily, before attempting the hairpin. Since committing fully to my cycling, and my training, I've made a more concerted effort to improve my skills. Looking at my stats, I've been up Ranmore around forty-five times in the last twelve months - about once a week. There have been times where I've pushed it, too; one week in spring, I decided to concentrate on getting my time down, and had a week of repeats. I focused heavily on the last third of the hill, trying to work out where to put the power down. Eventually, I found the Strava segment needed, and gave it everything I had. Now, my time up Ranmore Common Road is a little over six minutes. I can't quite believe the change, but then again - it has come at the end of a process of quite single-minded determination. 

Ranmore, I'll be back. 

 

Last cut

 Always something rather brooding, or melancholy, about the last proper cutting of the lawn, before winter really kicks in, and the ground becomes too heavy underfoot. After that cut, the grass becomes ever lusher, bending slightly at its tips: it'll stay that way until the first cut of spring. Am I allowed to use the word portentous here? It definitely feels like it would be appropriate. It's the last hurrah of the year, for the garden. The peonies will retreat deep into the soil, the apple tree will be denuded - all that remains will be the lush outcrops of the gorse. However, that new fence (at the back) will obviously have a chance to weather in, so it's not all bad. 

The tweaking strikes back.

 New saddle, on the trainer. It's a Selle San Marco "Mantra". I've got one of these on my TCR, but that's the weight weenie build, so it's the Superleggera: fantastic build, and only 107 grams (!), but it has an RRP of £360, or something daft. This one here, is the basic model, as weight matters little, on a bike that only ever reaches an altitude of zero metres above the carpet. It was a happy accident, falling for this particular saddle, I'm sure I only got the one for the TCR to complete that WW build, and drop as much weight as possible. I got a good deal, and wasn't too worried about comfort, I figured I'd try and get along with it. Lo and behold though, it turned out to be absolutely incredible - versatile, comfortable, and the sort of saddle that rewarded your effort, no matter your position. I initially thought that because of that hyper-aggressive stance, with the rolled-out sides, and the long nose, it would just be for long sessions in the drops, but again - no!

It's made a noticeable difference, it's hugely comfortable, and it was about 50 quid. That's a result. 

And - I've been on it, today! This means the worst of the head cold is over, at last. That was three days of torture and fogginess. I feel substantially weaker, too - I'll need to up my training game, over the next month. 

I need music, today.

Which means I need this. It's my favourite album on Factory Records. My favourite Martin Hannett production. How's that, for some high praise? I can't think of another album that inspires me, and engages me, as much as this one. I have multiple copies (of course), including the now legendary Sandpaper sleeve, but it's this Japanese CD that I play most often. It's an early pressing - 1989 - but the sound is crisp and clear. All it really needs is that textured sleeve, and it would have been perfect. Original first press tracklist too - even though the second press has the extra track, it somehow interrupts the flow of this simple, unassuming masterpiece.

 

Well, maybe just.....one more day off, then.

 

I should really have worked out that there might have been some sort of illness on the horizon, from my heart rate, on the last workout ride I did.  That's about an hour, standard power output (about 190w for 60 mins) and nothing out of the ordinary. But as you can see, my heart rate is totally elevated: my body was running to stand still. I'll learn my lesson next time, and keep an eye out for the red flags. Today is therefore a day of (more) rest. Oh, and it means I have a chance to sit and luxuriate in front of the CD player. There may well be some Miles Davis. 

 

 

Lounging.

 Oh, go on then - a double post. Don't often do it, but I'm feeling weak and feeble today, so I'm sitting here doing not much at all. I've got a proper head cold (nothing on the LFT), and it's an odd experience, as it's the first one I've had since the beginning of the pandemic. So, first real illness for about eighteen months. Looking back through the blog archive, colds pop up with alarming regularity. I'm fairly sure that must have had something to do with my rather louche lifestyle, over the last couple of decades. Now I'm a lot healthier, I seem to have been able to ward off the worst of it. Who'd have thought, eh? 

But I'm back in front of the screen, working on the bulletin for tomorrow morning, and mentally preparing a list of things that need to be done. I'm hoping my head clears enough, for that to happen. I've also got to drag myself into the kitchen and make an evening meal for everyone. They can have sausages and mash, I reckon there's a distinct possibility I will have another bowl of the spicy lentil soup I made earlier. 

Eighteen.

 My blog is an adult! This week, it's eighteen years old. I can't quite believe it's been that long, of course - but I'm strangely reassured by how old-school it's remained. It's a Blogspot, through and through. So many of my contemporaries from then seem to have vanished, or headed over to WordPress. So much of the blogosphere (copyright - Web 2.0) has splintered. 

But I really do still like having a blog, as a fallback to that original ethos - a modest site where I can unload, where I can just talk randomly, about myself, and my life. 

The photo above is important, in that regard, as it shows where I am now, and I'd like to think it's also emblematic of the fact that I'm walking, travelling, still on that journey. When I began blogging, I was on a dial-up modem, in my one-bed pied-a-terre in Shepherd's Bush. An Xfm DJ, still married. Eighteen later? Divorced, remarried, two children, house in the suburbs. Some things remain the same (skating, music, Joneses) some things have changed dramatically (cycling, sobriety). Overall though, it's just an absolute relief to be able to document those changes, in the same place. Change itself, needn't be chaotic - it can underpin the constancy of our lives. That's what this blog means to me: an underpinning. A hope that I can find order amongst the flowing currents, and describe the feel of the water as it carries me, to wherever it will. 

A little tweaking.

 I love cycling, but truth be told - I love all the tinkering, and frivolous purchasing, just as much. Trawling eBay for bargains, looking at websites, reading reviews, it's just as cathartic as actually being on the bike. In idle moments, your imagination can just drift, as you wonder about changing some small facet of the overall geometry of the bike, and try to imagine how much better your experience will be, as a result. 

Thus, it's time for a new stem. I went from a 100mm, to a 90mm stem. As you can (hopefully!) see from the photo, it's a Felt stem - the same as the original frame. Alloy, superlight, nice and stiff. Plus, it matches everything else, which is crucial for....well, style, I guess. But seriously, on the turbo trainer, "compressing" your stance slightly, seems to pay huge dividends. there's less worry about aches and pains on long rides because I can't particularly be arsed to keep going past ninety minutes. And it does seem to help with power output, and comfort when you're on the hoods. Maybe out on the road, the handling could be a little more twitchy, but I'm not on the road! This bad boy came from eBay, and it was brand new, fitted perfectly (as it replaces a stem that's exactly the same in all other respects except length) and cost about a tenner. For all of the daydreaming about results, the fiddling with my setup, and the feeling of satisfaction that you get when you chase an idea - I'd say that represented decent value for money. 

I've got a bit of a head cold for today (my first since the pandemic!) and consequently, it's a rare "off" day, but I hope to try and get a recovery ride in, tomorrow. I'll let you know how it feels.

It's the little things

 I'm quite amazed at what it takes to make me happy. Specifically - this:

It's a CD player. Remember those? For some time now, I've flitted from streaming service to streaming service. Let's try Tidal! OK, how about Amazon Prime, with HD?

But there was always something missing. I could listen on a laptop, or on my earbuds, but it wasn't quite right. I needed a wider, stereo soundscape. I needed to listen, how I used to listen. I've got vast amounts of CD's, but they've languished, for years.

But yesterday, I just thought - oh, sod it, let's see if I can knock something together. So, an old mini-hi-fi unit, out of the loft. Found the remote, whacked in some batteries. Found a power cable. Got a pair of bookshelf speakers, again - out of the loft. Then it was about 20 minutes of agro, moving cables and devices, in the unit in the lounge. But, miraculously, it all fired up the first time - and straight out of the box, it sounds incredible. I'd forgotten how wonderful CD's can be - how uncluttered, unfussy, and simple. They sound great, and the presence of the music is intoxicating. 

I'll see if I can whack up a photo of the first pile of CD's I cobbled together, to be able to play. It's quite informative.

Back to Life, back to reality.

It's been a difficult week, as a bit of insomnia has returned, with its resulting feeling of fogginess, and distraction. Just what you do not need when you've got a long list of things to be working on. Chiefly - a huge pile of albums, to approve. I've got white labels for everything we ever did, plus a couple of *ahem* secret projects. Very cool. Just wait until you see the artwork.

So, to keep my head on my shoulders, it's back onto the turbo trainer. The Felt frameset works brilliantly, and so does the Ultegra R8000. A compact crankset is a boon, too - as the hills seem more intense when momentum doesn't really exist to carry you up those early slopes.

I do need to think about changing the saddle though. I've got a Seele San Marco Mantra Superleggera on the Giant, but that's overkill. I Will investigate the same size and shape, but a heavier model. Need that saddle profile, as I'm starting to miss it. 

One of those weeks

 

And by that, of course, I mean a gig week. This time, it's been a long time. Far too long - for obvious reasons. so, it's strange to be doing it again, but wonderful, too. We've already got the first couple of hurdles out of the way - shows supporting the Sisters Of Mercy, and an appearance at Camper Calling, but it's time to do it on our own.

Back to the rehearsal studio, then. For so many years, this was at Survival, in North Acton. We'd rehearsed there before the band became famous, and we just carried on, creatures of habit. There were periods where we rehearsed intensively; the most notable of these around the tours for "Perverse", and "Already". As the most tech-heavy of the sets we played, these needed lots of extra work, and a schedule that drifted into monotony. We'd be block-booked for a couple of weeks, with the entire stage set-up meticulously constructed. We'd arrive at 10, work for three hours, break for lunch up in the canteen, and then get back to it, until 5. After a week or so, the impetus to keep going rapidly diminishes, you just get so sick of the songs. But it does help - we ran through "Idiot Stare" so many times that it became second nature.

That's definitely at the heart of our rehearsal strategy now - second nature, and muscle memory means we're less likely to need such an intensive programme of preparation. For the last few years, we've decamped to our new studios in Surrey, for two weekends. Then, we dropped that to one. We'd block book an evening, and the following morning, so the gear could stay up. Run through the set a couple of times on each day.

But after the shows this year, it's become apparent that we really do have that degree of second nature, down to a fine art. We dropped our rehearsal requirement again. We now do one day. Not only that but one session! So, in at 6pm, done by 10. Run through the set once, and give extra attention to the "new" songs. For the purposes of most rehearsals, this just means songs that are making a reappearance in the set, that we've not played for a while. Just blast through these with much more emphasis - perhaps two or three times in a row. Play through the whole set, then back to those songs, again. We're done within two, or three hours.

I do like how the times have changed, but there's still a part of me that misses the repetition, as it was a part of my life, a routine that underpinned who I was. 

Self-portrait, of the artist as an older man.

 I thought it best to update the blog, by updating you on what I'm like, after a two-year hiatus. The answer? A lot fitter. A lot skinnier. Seriously, I'm a twenty-eight-inch waist, for God's sake. I don't think my waist looked like that when I was eighteen. The reason behind all this should be clear from the photo: I've been cycling. Constantly.

it started as a way to deal with lockdown, and regain the freedom of movement that I felt I'd lost, but it ended up being an obsession. I'm intensely relaxed about that, though. It's lovely to hyperfocus on something again. It's very similar to the way I approached skating when I was a kid - I wanted to get inside it, and learn what it felt like. It was about emotion and purpose, about philosophy, as much as it was about frontside grinds. It was about understanding location, context and the space around me (and inside my head). I went on a journey around the local streets, but in the words of XTC, became a man who sailed around his soul.

 The Sun rises on the blog, once more. Social media is becoming a swamp, and I've fancied some anti-social media - and these days, that's blogging. It's solitary, contemplative, and it feels like no one really bothers to do it much - an immense shame. So, with this shot of an Ashtead sunrise, I hereby pledge to try and "give it a go", one more time. 

Westway has been such a huge part of my online life, and it's been there at times of need. So, I'm going to try and rely on it again.