DGM HQ A grey day
10.34
DGM HQ.
A grey day along the valley.
An important strategic DGM business meeting with David…
E-flurrying.
12.36 Listening to The Wine Of Silence – orchestral Soundscapes - with David in DGM SoundWorld I I…
II...
A wonderful sonic-immersion. Its time has come. This prompted discussion of returning to the original Soundscapes, of which we have many awaiting our attention.
14.58 I would not believe that any music company, even any company at all that made some claim on my interest, would have a parking lot such as this I…
II...
But then, neither would I believe that its Venal Leader would spend their nights in a sleeping bag on his office floor with a Schizoid Face blanket keeping them warm.
Strangely, surprisingly, I find this leads me to a greater trust in the company; although obviously not its Horrible Ungrateful Heartless Hyprocritical Leader.
15.46 Gifts I…
II...
… gratefully received.
18.44 An afternoon attacking the inbox. Down to 19, the first time in… years?
An important call from the Minx, strategising her business transitionings.
Two Skype viddy calls, my late-arriving proper use of this remarkable technology developed in
Estonia; firstly with the Sistery Person; secondly, with Pablo M. and Stevie B…
We are looking at the idea of a “coffee-table” book of KC. This has been mooted for several years, but has now returned to life following promptings from Pablo and Steve.
David is now making an important DGM business call, fine-tuning part of the DGM operation.
19.18 The end of our DGM-day today is happier than the end of yesterday’s. David is returning home, down the darking street…
A major e-mail, from myself to the commissioning editor of a respected university press in the US, in respect of The Writing Project.
I have decided, following reflection on the contract recently-received, to drop the proposed publishing relationship. The contract was carefully-tailored to my sensibilities; but would have committed me to the Old World, albeit a very friendly version of the OW. The difficulty about investing oneself in the New World is, it is not yet constructed. The New World is present and available in potential, but not yet in existence. Something like, we are crossing the Great Divide from the Old World to the New, on a bridge we’re building while moving across it. Hazardous, then, and risky. Not for those who like certainty in their affairs, noting that certainty in the Creative Life is as sure and reliably-arriving as death.
After 21 hard and often nasty years of reclaiming a high-degree of professional independence, returning a significant-control of my creative affairs to an institution is now unpalatable; and makes me twitch . Three years ago, most likely I would have negotiated and signed; also one year ago; even three months ago I held hope. But something in the air has changed. What was inevitable until recently is now questioned.
How do I know? How could I not know? Artists are supposed to be able to pick-up signals and broadcasts, to articulate the Zeitgeist. Clearly, I don’t claim authority; but I don’t have to: this is my life, I make my choices based on what I see and feel to be right; and then act accordingly. The conditions that best support those actions: being small, mobile, independent and aspiring-to-intelligence (ie the capacity to recognize rightness).
An evening computing ahead.
