Categories
Malibu

Twins

The young twins arrived last night.  Spent a couple of hours making beds and sorting where they are going to stow their things.

Because of the terrible storm I could not get up to my house until late yesterday so as I was staying over at J & J’s house.  I drove with Jason to Venice through the Santa Monica Mountains.  The storm has caused huge amounts of damage.   Thankfully CalTrans have dealt with the worst of the mess.  Did I mention that during the storm we saw 5 Pepperdine boys surfing the steep lawn on their campus.  Wetsuits in the rain.  Looked like fun.

I dropped Jason off at work then arranged to meet Sinatra and Hilary at Intelligentsia on Abbot Kinney.  After an hour and some extraordinarily expensive Rwandan blend coffee and an ‘artisan made’ orange and cranberry muffin I picked Lily up from school in Malibu and drove her home.

The logistical nightmare that is having three kids in different schools all over LA.

Found myself alone with Max, we sat at home discussing rap music.  He is 13.

My stomach ached all day.  A mixture of anxiety from having JB at the forefront of my thoughts once again and exhaustion from staying up all night at the Sober Living facility.

This morning I woke early and made tea for us all and set about doing long overdue desk work.  All three of us are tapping away quietly on our macs.   Must go buy loo roll.  These boys sure get through it.

I find myself in limbo once again.

However beautiful the twins are I am discombobulated.   Absent.   Sad.

Categories
Rant Rehab

rain, rain, rain…

The heaviest rainfall Southern California has ever recorded. 8.5 ins last night.

The road to my house is impassable, strewn with boulders fallen down the mountain and smashed on the road. So…no go to the house. Thankfully, the roof was repaired exactly one day before the storm so even though my house is probably, at this very moment, sliding into the ocean…at the very least it will be dry inside.

I am staying with J and J and their lively children. Their lake overflowed and I had to wade through sewage water to my ride…where to? You may very well ask! Where would I be off to on such a rancid day?

We throw ourselves even harder into helping others when we cannot shift our stinking thinking. So, with this in my nutty mind, I volunteered as a night carer in a sober living in Malibu. Awake all night, chatting with recovering addicts.

This morning I felt loads better. A bit tired.

There is nothing better than helping those who cannot help themselves.

Look!! Loads of people searching for JB on the internet! Whatever for?

JB…dear Oh dear.

This morning I spent a few moments looking at a picture of us together and I can still remember what it feels like to kiss him. From the very first to the very last. Pity that what I was kissing was such a cunt….and not in a good way.

JB!!! What have you done to me? I felt loved and complete. I will never feel like that again. Ever. Should I feel happy to have loved or resentful that I am never likely to love again?

Today…my spirits are high. Not as high as this tide tho.

Overflowing Lake
Categories
Gay

Willie Visits

It is raining with torrential force today.  See below.

The Little Dog and me are wrapped up warm on the sofa.  Frank just left.  He brought  Willie to see us.   Willie and I still love each other but he lives with Frank now.  That’s that.  I posted a little video of us on Facebook.

Yesterday was not a great day.  I hung out with Jen and Jason, helping them with their delivery business.  Anything to take my mind off of the anonymous note I received.   Of course I thought about it all day.

I called Dan.  When is this ever going to end?

Usually when I get notes that are JB related I just ignore them…but this was different.  It was designed to hurt both of us.

In a way it was good to know where he is because I can avoid those parts of NYC where he will be.   I know that it sounds improbable but I really don’t want anything more to do with him personally.  I just WISH he had never ever contacted me.

Resentful about that.  Totally ruined the past few months.  It probably gives him immense pleasure to know that I have been so badly hurt and continue to be so.  He lied his way into my life, stripped me bare and like a wilful child slammed the door in my face.  So damned selfish.

I feel cheated out of the investment I made in him.  The time he demanded.  The love I lost.  Only now, after so much damage…like a natural calamity that leaves one in the pause of powerless amazement.

When CP left last week I felt very alone.  He, very sweetly, worried that I get depressed when he is away and (annoyingly) there is some truth to that.  I feel focused and connected when he is around.

We have been working hard to make our film happen.  It looks more likely every day.  Spent last night looking at DOP reels.

I am excited by this project.  Excited by its potential and our ability to reach out to our community and explore difficult ideas.  We spent hours with old gay folk.   Let me tell you something:  for the rich or the poor old age is a the great leveler.   We don’t do nearly enough for our aged population…not in England or America.

Therapy last night.

I love solitude too much.

[wpvideo XaMn5t6C]

Categories
Gay Rant

Critical Mass

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/user/vlogbrothers]

Japan.  Spent zirconium fuel rods, usually submerged under forty feet of water, now lie uncovered in the drained spent fuel pools where they are stored.

The fuel rods at all six reactors at the stricken Fukushima Dai-ichi complex contain plutonium — better known as fuel for nuclear weapons. While plutonium is more toxic than uranium, other radioactive elements leaking out are likely to be of greater danger to the general public.

Only six percent of the fuel rods at the plant’s Unit 3 were a mixture of plutonium-239 and uranium-235 when first put into operation.  The fuel in the other reactors is only uranium, but even there, plutonium is created during the fission process.

This means the fuel in all of the stricken reactors and spent fuel pools contain plutonium.

In the heart of not one but six nuclear reactors some fuel rods maybe broken…ready to melt down, ready to spew radioactive material into the atmosphere.

We are facing a potential catastrophe in Japan.

Here I link you to the Vlogbrothers simple yet elegant explanation of nuclear fission…for those of you who may not understand what is going on.  Technically.

Critical mass imminent?  Likely?  Who the hell knows.

Critical mass means that there is enough fissionable material to produce and sustain a chain reaction, which grows exponentially within a miniscule passage of time. This chain reaction is precisely what happens in nuclear weapons and could happen in Japan.

We are witnessing critical mass in other parts of the world:  Bahrain where the government saw fit to shoot little children demonstrating with their parents.  Libya where after the United Nations imposed a ‘no fly zone’.  Gaddafi proclaimed a cease fire…then promptly bombed the rebels.  Where, you may ask, were the fearless British and the noisome French?

Critical mass in Wisconsin is growing daily but completely ignored by almost all of the US news media who are frankly perplexed when confronted by white Americans behaving like anything other than bovine subserves.

Last night I, uncharacteristically, turned on the TV and sat with Rachel Maddow for a few irritating minutes.  She was blathering on about how in the 1950’s the Democrats benefitted from the last time the Wisconsin Republicans tried to vote away collective bargaining, unions and the like.   Well, that was then Rachel…when the Democrats served the people and as an effective opposition to the rabid corporation obsessed Republicans.  In a time, long ago, when America and Americans were relevant.

Occurs to me that even if Rachel Maddow believes the Democrats can benefit from getting behind American Working People (she may be right) the working people of America will not be served by those Democrats they elect…most of whom are already bought and paid for by the corporation.  Who said that capitalism means the enslavement of the people?

As fabulously bright as Maddow is there is something vaguely mithering and condescending in her tone.  More worryingly..her solutions are rather naive.

Meanwhile…if it couldn’t get any worse for the LGBT community…

In Congress the ultra right-wing, motivated by crazy house leader John Boehner (Boner), is so deeply committed to dialing back rights for LGBT Americans that nearly 100 of them are co-sponsoring a resolution condemning President Obama for his decision last month to no longer defend DOMA in court.

As Americans struggle to recover from the recession, they just want their government to do right by them.  Republican House leaders are doing the exact opposite – committing taxpayer money and precious time to defend a law that most Americans oppose, and a social agenda that most Americans reject.

Finally, critical mass at the micro level rather than the macro…I am suing somebody.  It stinks…but it has to be done.  Business is business and I hope that he doesn’t take it personally.

Categories
Malibu

Pre Existing Condition

Categories
art

Preparation X

I should have called this post: Pre-Existing Condition.

I have always been embarrassed by my piles.  Hemorrhoids.  I have always had them.  Ever since I can remember.  Thank God I was never a bottom.

Whilst the rest of the world looks on in horror at the inevitable nuclear meltdown in northern Japan, the brutal attacks on protestors by the Bahrainian police force, the Libyan civil war I spent this evening with a complete stranger from the internet who arrived at my home with a bag of groceries and cooked me dinner.

Whilst he did that:  I fainted.  Very, very Jayne Eyre of me.

The upshot being that I badly bruised my back on the fucking chair Michael Temple made for me.  The chair looks nice but it’s a FUCKING DEATH TRAP.

That’s what we do in LA.  Strangers come to our mountain top mansions and prepare Penne Carbonara.   I served coffee in delicate Sevres coffee cups.   The dog was FREAKED OUT when I fell over.  He ran away from me when I tried to placate him.

This morning Charles left in his neat black suit and freshly pressed shirt and tie.   He looked so sweet.  I had film stuff to do after he left.  After a few film related conversations on the telephone I walked to the PCH.  All the way there and all the way back.   He chased many ground squirrels.

I sold some art.

This afternoon I watched Sophia Coppola‘s film Somewhere.  I really enjoyed it.  The language and locations of our Hollywood lives.  Too many afternoons floating on the pool, too many hasty hook ups.  Too many facile conversations.  Too many text messages from people who either want to fuck you or fuck you over.  Not enough substance.  Set against a back drop of elegant hotels with fancy toys to play with.

I once lived in the Chateau Marmont for a month.   I moved there when the mountain burned.  I have spent many hours there making new friends.

I remain isolated.

Most of us are isolated here.  However successful we are or we are not.  However many parties we are/are not attending, however ‘connected’ we are.

Sitting around.

Waiting for a great idea.

So now the next great idea has come upon me and I have convinced others to work with to make a dream come true.  Suddenly this town makes sense.

Los Angeles, oh you strange and terrible place.

The christian twins are coming to stay.  The beautiful, twenty-year-old twins are coming to live with me at the house, live at the house whilst I am in NYC.   When they return from Utah.   My born again beauties.

I ate the pasta/caprese salad/garlic bread and he left soon after we finished our coffee to my strange, secluded mountain top life.

He was perfectly nice.

The bruise on my back is worth photographing.

just part of the bruise
Categories
Hollywood

Research

The past ten days we have immersed ourselves in the ‘project’.  I am learning to be collaborative which is unusually hard for a man like me who largely expects to get things his own way.  The more we explore the clearer the picture becomes.  Have you heard of a film called Cathy Come Home?  I am drawn to it.

I like my life right now.  Doing what I feel I was put here to do.

We are running all over town.  Dane drives me.  His sweet face lightening the mood of the day. Last night Charles stopped by and the twins arrived.  Miles has been in Australia filming Whale Wars on a boat for three months.

Youth and enthusiasm.

Meeting writers, first ad’s, lawyers and the like.   Hanging out in obscure offices and community rooms.  Have to be discreet here.  Agreed not to write about any of it but I wanted you to know darling that I am safe and well and we are working hard to make things better for you.

The garden is desperate to be planted with vegetables.  On Saturday we were in Santa Barbra and met a lively old lady with great looking baby tomato plants.

The goats need to be bought.

I dreamt about Jake again.  Again, it was conciliatory.  There are times that I wish I could share what is going on with him because I know he would love it.  Isn’t that odd?  Perhaps I am close to totally forgiving him?  The last time we spoke was in July which means that we have not spoken for longer than we actually knew each other.

My NYC bf understands my predicament.  It seems that we have all experienced mad love, crushing obsession and the like.

Do, if you want to, look at the DEATH AND LOVE IN PATMOS blog because, at your request, I have transcribed the diary entries.

Also, my current ARTIST TO BUY pick of the week is:

Carla Busuttil

who opens tonight at the Josh Lilley Gallery in London.



Categories
Auto Biography

New Love/Old Slags

Do I ever think about him?  No, not really.  He is gone now.  How can I tell?  Because I am listening to love songs and I just get the vaguest memory of him.

Here are some pictures of men I have explored:

Categories
Travel Whitstable

Mudlark

The smell of damp tweed.  My collarless shirt and felt braces.

A mantle with fabric that may or may not be Bloomsbury.  Mismatched luster wear cup and saucer.  Chipped.  These things used to delight me. Treasures found at the edge of the Thames.  When did I cease to be a mudlark?

Is it Duncan Grant or Vanessa Bell?

  • I bought the fabric from a junk shop in Stamford a month ago. Would dearly love to find out who it’s by… 

  •  

    Simon I’ll check in a book on Bloomsbury textiles at work. It could be one of those designs they did for the Queen Mary that were then mass-produced. That would be v exciting! 

    7 hours ago
  •  

    Christopher It’s Bloomsbury I sure of that 

    5 hours ago
  •  

    Christopher My only other thoughts is that it could be by Cressida Bell but I do feel it has something of Vanessa about it 

    5 hours ago
  •  

    Ed How exciting! I think it’s possibly more Vanessa in style too.

White linen bed sheets, feather pillows, pale pink, satin, quilted, stuffed with down.  Hot water bottle.

Laying the table for breakfast.  Poached eggs.  Marmite on my toast.

That tribe of gay men still delight me.  I used to know them.

My cottage in Whitstable was full of tiny, beautiful things.  With more money came larger, expensive things.  Now I sit under a decade long avalanche of avarice.

More stuff.

Remember when we didn’t have radiators in the cottage?  Frost in the sitting room before we lit a fire?  The smell of coal and crackling kindle.  Wrapping up warm before we left the bedroom?

I think this is how one might start again.  Renting a room at the back of a house by the sea.  I don’t have to live in Whitstable.

I am wondering hard again.  Torn between two worlds.

The conversation from Facebook (above) that I have taken the liberty of reproducing made me feel homesick for small mercies…for a butler’s sink, for the sound of a mop bucket.  For the back stairs in a country house.  For sea views that may include the ghosts of women once dressed in white tulle and parasols.

Categories
Gay

Daddy

A renewed interest in me by younger men.  What is this all about?  Just as I thought I was on the gay slag heap I am suddenly enjoying a sexual renaissance as a daddy.

Apparently everybody wants his daddy and being a tall, shaved-head, masculine kinda gay I seem to fit this bill.  NYC this last visit I was stunned by just how much interest I generated at the gym.  These cute, younger men had not seen me on TV, did not know my back story…but wanted some daddy lovin’.

One will always be ‘hot’ if one remains confident.

Am I being fetishized?    Lets’s hope so.

I am not complaining.  It makes growing old and gay all that much better.