Good time to think. St. Ives is good, obviously. One could handle a few hundred less fleeces shuffling past my harbour perch/window per hour, but essentially the place is good. Fridge wise, just swapped 'The Tormentor' for a perfectly quiet, cold one. I carried the thing up our steps with Jeff. Not sure how Jeff would have coped on his own. Jeff was from Enfield. The steps are steep, stone and old, the fridge heavy, white and new. White light, light goods. Was glad for the interruption from writing 'Cooking With Chronos'. Writing about time and cooking. Instead of a fridge, here is a picture of a chronograph been writing about in conjunction with cooking sea bream, again. Really, the sea bream is in copy. The watch is by Girard Perregaux. It has a tachyograph. It's a special one. The fridge far less so. It has an ice-cube tray.

Last night tonight. It's time. Thinking of the return to The Metropolis. Was gonna do a Style Stance down here if I saw anyone working one. Nothing doing. Taking the S Class Benz East tomorrow at sun up. Ish. This has taken all week to get to this point. There has to be more to this caper? I'm after a new manifesto. It's gonna come in smaller portions, but far more potent ones. Yeah?

Update: The wind is up. It's the middle of the night, the tide's coming back in and it's all quite mental.

Awake and making a new plan. Style & Error yes. But this time with some new questions and some different answers. Gulp.


GeneralStubbs1 Comment