This is my family and friends press release, which I send out because I’m fashionable. You can tell that by looking at me. I love this fashion for corporate press releases from riders of the clapham omnibus, it gives a wonderful opportunity to fib like a rocket whilst whistling the devil’s honesty music.
I’m no good with idiots; I left my job in April to avoid decking one. In retrospect, the poor atmosphere was pretty obviously a corporate ploy to get shot of people without paying redundancy. Despite these economic times, most of the team has walked; I was neither first nor last. Anyway, the months out of work were well spent. I even redesigned my website.
Kit Fryatt and I organised the Wurm im Apfel poetry reading series, which ran well, especially Jaap Blonk’s brilliant performance in summer. Most of all, we organised wurmfest, an avant garde poetry festival. That worked a treat.
After months of no work, I was offered three jobs to start on December 14th, two in Ireland, one in Paris. Grumble, bloody typical, mumble, jobs, bumble, buses, blahdy blahdy blah … so I’m establishing myself in the city of light.
The things I won’t miss about Dublin include the prices, the Britishness, the relative isolation. Those I will include the Irish people, the damn good pub music, & the general atmosphere of fun. Most of all, I’ll miss Kit & wurm; I wonder how life will be with neither around.
What I’m looking forward to in Paris includes the language, the culture, the epoetry, the cuisine. If you’d have asked me thirty years ago where I’d end up, I’d have said France. Now, I don’t know. I'm going to give the place a chance, make no mistake, but I’m not moving here having already decided to stay. I hanker for Berlin.
Personal projects this year, beyond getting to know Paris and Parisien(ne)s, include more photography, and exploring a book of photography and poetry based on big town blues.