Monday, August 29, 2011


Radio, live transmission.

Transmission resumed, and that Joy Division song stuck in my head.

Bianco-rosso has taken a back seat over the past month and a bit. Illness, the death of my father, travel, work, a bit of falling out with Quarry Hill folk. All car seats full, only the boot left for wine.

But things are picking up. Drinking, cooking, making beer & wine, writing... all coming back. As affirming a mix as Joy Division.

And we would go on as though nothing was wrong.
And hide from these days we remained all alone.
Staying in the same place, just staying out the time.
Touching from a distance,
Further all the time.

Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance, to the radio.


  1. Paul,

    The strangeness of blogging and the internet is the unknown connections you make. So it was this morning that I was thinking of Italian small goods and pork and how I must get to those bottles of wine you kindly sent and then the realisation that you had not been writing much of late. And now the explanation, though in truth no explanation is needed for why you have been absent. A blog and wine are often such secondary things. I'm sorry to hear about your Father, but I'm pleased some light is returning.

  2. I'm sorry to hear about your father, Paul. You will pull through. Everything else will come back slowly with time.
    Take care.

  3. Thanks to you both, Ed & Krystina. These unlikely personal connections, including with people not met face-to-face, are good things.