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Auto Biography Gay

Whitstable 1991

OK, so here are a few interesting clips from 1991.

Starring the various boys and friends who ended up in Whitstable at my house on Island Wall.  Notably Jay Jopling, Nick Love and Damien Hirst.

There’s quite a bit of nudity and cock…so beware.

Bournemouth Film School…the house I shared with Lawrence and Charlie.

There’s some great stuff from Green Street, Orlando’s club in London.

Damien Hirst, Maia Norman, Orlando Campbell etc.

There’s the traveling, Sydney, Forbes NSW to stay with the Wilsons.  And…more boys.

Kevin at City Gym in Sydney. The beautiful Dane I met in Florence and spent the summer. Whatever happened to him?  I wanted to weep when I saw him again.  He was beautiful.

The local Whitstable boys.  Luke, beautiful Luke.

If any of them ever loved me I was blissfully unaware.

And…there’s a lot of…hair.  During most of this…I am drunk or fucked up, remember that.  I wouldn’t get sober for another 6 years.

There’s a lot of dancing and dressing up.  I seem to be lip synching to Judy…missing some man.  Again.

What a destructive theme.

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art

Dinner at The Ivy

Yesterday I vlogged, today I blog.

Had a spectacular day.  Started early, far too early…really happy!   Walked the dog in Soho Square.  Breakfast at Maison Bertaux with darling Tania Wade.

Bought a Noel Fielding piece.

Tania asked after Jake who she met this summer.

It was the first time somebody had asked after him and I really had no feeling, no twinge, no tangible moment of nostalgia whatsoever.  On this blog, however, there are a flurry of enquiries about him every day…why?   His name is regularly googled, and the break up post about him almost always appears in the top ten most read daily posts.  Who is making sure that this happens?  He can’t possibly be that vain?

When Georgina asked me if I ever spoke to Jake I paused and wondered what we would ever find to talk about?  He wasn’t a bad man…he was just a normal man.  A regular guy with a sad and unusual back story.

Anyway, after breakfast I had a hair/beard cut and then I met up with Toby Mott.  We went to a very raw but heartening NA meeting on Frith Street…then we went clothes shopping on Bond Street.  I didn’t buy anything.  So many beautiful people promenading along Bond Street…unlike Oxford Street where the uglies congregate.   Toby was on very good form and we had a wonderful time together..he thought the Amanda debacle very funny.

Toby vanished into Tottenham Court Road tube station and I hurried back to Soho where I met Andrey my Russian friend who is studying politics at Cambridge.  He has been hitting the gym and looked amazing! When we got back to the hotel room he took time showing me his perfect body…just like a straight boy to do that!   Proud and delighted that he is being admired but appalled that I might be thinking about jizzing all over his chest.

Quite unexpectedly I bumped into Nick Love who looked so handsome.  We hugged for a good long time.  I was really pleased to see him and I think that he was really pleased to see me.  I adore him.

Andrey left to meet his Mother and after a well deserved nap..woke up just in time to pull on some tweed, spray on some vetiver and nip over to the Ivy where I met Charlie P and Konrad Wyrebek for dinner ($62).  Konrad, to my delight, doesn’t drink alcohol.

DELIGHTFUL DINNER..calves liver and bacon.  Very funny conversation, Charlie is very, very funny.  We were meant to be discussing our Sundance trip but didn’t much before Konrad arrived.

Charlie and I, like a couple of old lags, sparring for his entertainment.  Konrad enchanting, handsome and super smart.  Discussed my favorite artist and Konrad’s great inspiration..Gerhard Richter.  We romped through a lively conversation about Polish art, Kantor, galleries/gallerists, politics etc.

Konrad told us about a relationship he had once had that lasted 6 months but took a year and a half to get over.

Charlie and I amuse ourselves with bogus descriptions of how we met, “I met Charlie on Burlington Arcade, his crinoline caught in a door…”  or during the blitz..etc. etc.

We talked American politics and how the disgusting Murdoch wants to destroy the impartiality of the British press.  I started roasting Obama but Charlie persuaded me not to be so down on the President.  He said, quite rightly, “Politicians dissappoint.”  He went on to say that as a liberal I shouldn’t be ripping on Obama as it just  makes it all that much easier for people like Palin to succeed.   He’s right.

I just don’t want to go through what I went through with Blair.  The great Blair was our greatest disappointment but, unlike Blair, Obama seem to be a good guy..underneath it all…and we must give him a chance.

I, and people like me, must give him a chance.  I must stop reading the POISONOUS Huffington Post.

As we were pulling on our coats Konrad thanked us warmly for dinner, took loads of pictures and said, “I am usually so bored by people.”  Darling, I thought, so am I..so am I.

Boredom is my greatest enemy.  Yet, as I confided to Konrad, lately I have had the merest splinter of self doubt…and as we know a splinter can be very, very painful.

Walked a little with Konrad through Soho.

He may come to Paris with me this weekend.  That would be fun.  I liked him (and his wonderful enthusiasm for life and art) a great deal.

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Rant

No Hot Water!

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