Oh but to go to St Stephen’s seems an essential part of any visit to Vienna

June 30, 2016 § Leave a comment

Oh but to go to St Stephen’s seems an essential part of any visit to Vienna, even if one foregoes Richard Gerstl’s Laughing Self Portrait in the Belvedere or Titian’s Mars, Venus & Amor in the KHM. I am becoming really excited about my writing again—the loving embrace and acceptance of —— enables this to happen. TRAVEL PICTURES is the perfect title for the series, as they are dominated by my visits to Berlin, Brussels, Vienna and Munich, the interludes in London always an agonising torture of boredom and longing, filled with disappointments of the trips just completed, and almost in the next breath the yearning to go again. My movements are very regular, I am blessed like that—the intervening months trapped in London a kind of constipation. But one pays for such movements, and one can never pay dearly enough. In all this planning for Vienna, I have somehow steadfastly avoided actually checking what the actual costs of going might be. I am circumnavigating that particular fly in the ointment.


The great thing about my four books

June 30, 2016 § Leave a comment

The great thing about my four books, and now the first 8 pages of my fifth, is that they are full of passion, and truth—the psychosis of AUTISMUS, the longing for Lotta in LOTTA, the breaking through the barriers of THE COLD ICY AIR OF THE MOUNTAINS, the tiring of travelling and falling in love of CASANOVA. It all rings so true and is dripping with passion, truly written in blood and tears. The preparing to go to Vienna is now going to be such a big part of the new book. The visit itself will probably pass without a word—I shall not have time.

Heine’s summer trips produced the basis for his four volumes of REISEBILDER (1826-31)

June 29, 2016 § Leave a comment

“Heine’s summer trips produced the basis for his four volumes of REISEBILDER (1826-31), a combination of autobiography, social criticism, and literary debate”. Let me write a London record of autobiography, social criticism and literary debate. Too often in London I seem trapped in a vice of work and family life that renders my pen dry. I cannot keep waiting for my trips to Europe to get my voice working again—easier said than done, however. My osmosis has not been working for more than three years; it will be the glory of this year if I can get the old thing working again.

After passing Waterloo Station

June 29, 2016 § Leave a comment

After passing Waterloo Station (and the old discarded snake skin of the Eurostar Terminal as was), I pick up my 76 outside the Waldorf, and it then takes me past the front doors of the Royal Courts of Justice, St Paul’s Cathedral, and the Bank of England—an amazing journey home every night. I document Brussels, Munich, Vienna, Berlin, as this is my world, and it is very easy to overlook and take for granted the glory of the capital city of the British Empire that I live in. Easy too to take for granted the glory of the woman who takes care of me and gives me her love and provides me this calmness and tranquility that I feel in my life these days, like an emotional no fly zone, making me safe from all outside attacks so I can go about my business undisturbed for the first time in my life. She is the miracle of my life, the second one, and I do feel a deep sense of wonder that she has given her love to me, and yet this does not stop me needing to assert my determination to be myself, and do what I have to do to irrigate my soul. My trips to Europe are absolutely essential, even if like Kenneth Williams’s trips to Tangiers none of them anymore are what one could call wholly successful, because they keep the pendulum swinging. Similarly essential, if marooned in London, the visits to the —.

I say I could live like a monk for ten years

June 28, 2016 § Leave a comment

I say I could live like a monk for ten years, but would then become a dry fossil, but a year of family life has had rather that effect as well. I have kept going out, leaking money every week, trying to grab small little pleasures for myself, but it seems to me that I have not done ENOUGH. Instead of meekly, timidly, dipping my toe into my old sinful pleasures, on a regular basis, I should have saved my money for spectacular debauches—great trips to Vienna, Munich, Berlin. Dipping my toes in constantly meant I was constantly losing money but not doing enough to get any pleasure or satisfaction or relief out of it. To keep the pendulum swinging one must do spectacular splurges, then one can feel good for weeks afterwards. These little sins I keep committing do not satisfy me for more than a few minutes. Whatever you do, do it with a vengeance or don’t do it at all. If you’re going to flash, flash hard, then you are more likely to get away with it. It is the meek, timid, scared little prods and pushes that will always get you caught out. I must be MORE daring, more provocative, and damn the consequences. “Boredom is the despairing refusal to be oneself” said Kierkegaard, and I have been so scared of ——‘s reaction I have allowed myself to refuse to be myself. The more I can be myself the more I will love her.
monk and nun

What have my visits to Vienna been like?

June 28, 2016 § Leave a comment

What have my visits to Vienna been like? There was the first 4-day visit in 1998 on the Grand Tour, I went to Freud’s house, The Third Man tour, stayed in the Rathaus, nothing naughty, under intense pressure, almost psychosis. My second visit would have been the Pooky trip in 2001 on the way to Oslo, three days of the most exquisite non-stop self-pleasure in the depths of the blackest despair, Ottakring beer, rings in the Am Hof market, nothing naughty again? The third visit must have been Lotta in 2002 mustn’t it, when it became all about Lotta, before Venice and Budapest, while I was working at the hotel. I went back again in January 2005, this time I explored the Gurtel extensively in the deep snow, this was the Mando Diao, Libertines Likely Lads, Saybia, Soulwax visit, the Harrieta and Maria in Pour Platin visit. I have not been back since then have I? More than six years. ——¬†drifted away from you before, in boredom and hopelessness. She can easily do that again. Do not take her for granted. In bed last night I imagined she was some girl I met at Wigmore Hall, f–king her in our seats, then in toilets. I keep having this Wigmore fantasy these days.

I am constructing my own world in my books

June 27, 2016 § Leave a comment

I am constructing my own world in my books, so that it WOULD be possible to make a game out of it—with board and dice and counters. It is my Empire of the Petal Throne. Justice Palaces, Bourses, Cathedrals, Railway Stations, Hotels.

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