15.49 A short break from the alarmingly difficult section of "Larks' IV". Adrian is watering the newly-sown grass, Pat is sword-fighting a small Belewbeloid, Trey is in the garage with Bill.
Big excitement for me this morning: Toyah called at 09.10 from Kualalumpur airport. She was about to board the long-haul flight home. I wasn't anticipating speaking to her until tomorrow. Such small events, such great moments, as when a person you love calls.
17.17 Beast! Beast! A significant moment: we have just played through the current form of "Larks' IV" and listened back. Passages of hilarious errors, so smelly and impressively unkempt of delivery that we were holding our noses, don't even begin to diminish the sheer power of this one. Look out world. Crim is coming to stomp you flat.
There are various sections of pieces and improvs where A Single Trio make quite enough noise for all of us. What should the fourth man do? We remember proudly that T.Lev, onstage with ProjeKct Four in Seattle, simply stood on stage with his hands in his pockets. This was a highlight of Bill Rieflin's evening. "I've never seen anyone with their hands in their pockets onstage before!" Bill told us the following day - astonished? aghast? admiringly? So, I told Tony that for the next gig (Portland) if he put his hands in his pocket, I'd file my nails. And whenever an improv took a dip and T.Lev looked close to pocketing a hand or two, I'd wave my nail file at him.
Well, for this ensemble we've suggested that any guy who's left unused for a period should blow bubbles. In response Ade brought down one of the young Belewbeloids' bubble pots, and has it ready for a tacit moment.
This evening we are all going to Loco Lupe's, hopefully to meet Graham Elvis, and I'm going to have a Monster Margarita. Then, presumably, pull out the sixth of Jack and bag of weed.
"Silence is a distant echo of the approach of the Muse."
