Music doodler, media watcher, technology user, recycler,downsizer, gardener,archivist,open source advocate, videographer, art watcher
My mind often seems to torture me by recalling random tunes that I would normally be indifferent to but place them on an indefinite loop for tortuous reappraisal.This morning the kitsch horror of a theme to a long running (though oft reported as dead) TV programme is playing endlessly inside my head and 'enhancing my Monday experience'.
Photo by Harrymoon under this creative commons license
We then drove past the High Court in London where Ian Hislop was emerging as he had just won a libel case against him despite seemingly being defended by an inept lawyer.
Photo by Patrick Mayon under this creative commons licenseComments [0]
Dreamt I was at a multi media theatre event held in a kind of scaled down Wembley arena set in the countryside (literally in a large field).Of course I sat at the side.I've only ever sat at the side in that venue. I was called away for some undefined reason to search through a large indoor market held within the cavernous outer access corridors of this Wembley-a-like structure but eventually stumbled across a sumptuous dining area laid out with obscene amounts of expensive food seemingly designated as an after show party area for glitterati elements. I moved to get back to the play but somehow couldn't face it and escaped from the building into the setting autumn sun of the surrounding countryside. I ran through the fields as fast as I could to get away.
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Above ground I saw huge high rise blocks clad with living plant vines, feeling akin to a hybrid concrete tropical jungle which often experienced large downpours of torrential rain. Below ground I was living with a large influential Indian media family who lived in a large house in the quaintly old fashioned British sector.Small streets with lawns, hedges and post boxes. We lived near the border for the Australian sector. The bright artificial antipodean style sky could clearly be seen in the distance in contrast to the pastel tones of those above the British sector
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I dreamt I had to explain to a kitten (black, cute but questioning) who Craig Ferguson was. I also tried to invent a combined blouse and bra (me?). The sun was low in the winter sky and the population was low in numbers for some reason. Supermarkets were unpopular (wishful thinking) whilst corner shops faced good humoured queuing for foodstuffs on cold frosty mornings. Nearby villages had been abandoned and were in decay whilst small urban communities seemed to be where many lived.
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