I shouldn’t have gone out last night, but I wanted to see Justin Bond and Tilda. Did get to see Bond, but T was there and gone. I met Sandro though. How I recognized him I’ll never know, with his hair cut off and him mountain man beard. Passed on a letter to T. He asked I not look for her in CT, so I’m glad I didn’t go. Still sad though.
Because I hoped if we became closer we’d have more time, but Saturday night I was Tilda Swinton. I was the centre of attention to a million people. Old friends, new friends, dear friends, strangers. There wasn’t enough time for all of them, barely enough time for any of them. Such guilt in breaking conversation with one person to catch another. Unable to spend time with those I was closest to. There wasn’t enough of me, you know?
So many questions to answer, that I delighted in answering. I had an audience now eager for what I had to say. That was wonderful, but that meant sacrificing time and intimacy.
Of course, that was only for five hours and I will probably not encounter that situation any time soon. But Tilda, that is what it is, always. There will never be enough time for me, for anybody, even for herself. And that makes me just a bit sad. It amazes me to think that I may have had more time with Swinton this past year than some of her own family. And still, still I want more.
We all want more. I wonder if Technolust was not just the slightest bit a secret wish of hers.
I’ve got a hangover. I have no idea what I drank last night. There was a $12 minimum at Joe’s pub last night and I had no idea what any of the drinks were. I asked for something fruity with a wee bit of vodka, so really it’s anyone’s guess what I got back. One drink and I was just wasted. I felt wasted. I felt…. slurry. Tilda introduced Justin but didn’t perform, which was gravely disappointing. I seriously wanted to see her do cabaret.
Justin Bond isn’t just a gimmick, though. He’s got such a voice. True, I don’t have much to reference or compare to, but despite the theatrical drama of it, it is stunningly real. As if over-dramatic could be valid. Here’s a stupid metaphor, but it’s as if a clown wearing over sized shoes isn’t wearing them for comedy sake; the guy actually has big, powerful feet. When Justin covers a song, it’s like hearing it for the first time. I could listen to him sing anything.
I just wish I could sprawl out on a couch as I did. It’s music for sprawling.
As for my show, it was whirl. I’ll paint it someday. I sold four paintings and three books in one night, and seeing as both are friggn’ expensive, I’m amazed. The best was when an Aspie woman bought a copy. She looked at me and said, “This makes sense. This is what I’ve wanted to say. This book makes sense to me.”
And that was what it was all about.
I’ll have a video of that night online soon. My body has given out for now and the cold weather is making it worse. Wife has been taking care of me. I thank all of you who came out Saturday and I’m sorry I couldn’t have given you more time.
When I close my eyes, I dream of Scotland….