K.P. Webster's Blog, page 10

Magical People :: Imogen Heap

Because life is what it is, I never met Imogen Heap until very recently when a friend of mine played me a couple of her songs on YouTube – yes, that counts as meeting – and they both brought tears to my eyes.

Since then I’ve looked at a couple more things she’s done and I have quickly come to realise that Imogen Heap is one of those wonderful, extraordinary, supernaturally talented, naturally humble, brilliant, beautiful human beings who make it all – life, I mean – ultimately magnificent.

This song – and this performance – is my favourite thing so far…

But her work in the world of wearable technology – MiMu, the musical glove – is a whole new world of excitement.

First I watched this Wired talk from 2012, in which she demonstrates the technology that enables her to create, sample and loop music and sound just by waving her hands about like a goddess. It’s tremendous…

Then there’s this TED talk from a few months ago. It’s not quite as mind-blowing if you’ve already seen the Wired talk, but it’s fascinating to see how the technology is evolving, and it’s still full of totally magical moments…

Despite an unsuccessful funding attempt on Kickstarter, the MiMu gloves are still very much in development and I for one am exceedingly grateful.

Hoverboards, my arse.

Onwards!

 

Filed under: EVOLUTIONARIES, MUSIC, TECHNOLOGY Tagged: Imogen Heap, Kickstarter, TED, Wired

Feedback Friday :: Self-Belief

pitches/proposals :: 4 (four cold pitches to magazine editors and absolutely the last I will ever make)

responses :: 0 (natuurlijk)

new jobs offered :: 4 (copywriting, man – that’s where it’s at)

new jobs reneged upon :: 1

English lessons taught :: 3

hours of Dutch learning :: about 3. Duolingo continues to impress.

books being read :: 2 (same two as last week)

physical exercise :: nothing. I’ve decided to give up till Amsterdam, when as soon as I find somewhere slightly long-term to live, I will lose weight methodically and deliberately and integrate the process into the Great Leap Forward. Shit, yeah. Now give me another sweetass Toffee Crisp.

metaphysical exercise :: nothing. Back to the 6am starts next week though. Things will be different.

routine adhesion :: 10%

week 14/52 overall rating :: 10/10. Yeah. A few set-backs but they bounced off me like snooker balls off a trampette. It probably would have been another nine but it’s not every week you figure out who you are.

…

This week has been filled with what felt at the time of inception like some pretty amazing ideas. In retrospect, thankfully, they still feel pretty amazing. So much so that on Tuesday I posted this to Facebook, and three days later I’m copying it here…

Then on Wednesday it struck me that what’s really changed is that for the first time ever, I have self-belief.

I’ve never really had it before. I’ve believed in my abilities, certainly, but not in my ability to convert my abilities into value for other people.

Obviously, my whole life has led up to this moment, but I’m extremely grateful to Niall Doherty and his 3M1K course for forcing me to go back to the beginning and figure out how to make a living. Once I’d figured that out, it was only a matter of time till everything else fell into place. Best £220 I’ve ever spent.

I’m also very grateful to me for realising that I needed that help.

Well done, me.

Don’t mention it.

Consequently, I know exactly what I want to do for the next two years and exactly what I want to produce in that time.

This feels massively liberating.

One other really excellent thing that happened this week was that I landed a job writing 10,000 words for wordsearch puzzles for some guy in Bucharest.

When he asked me when I could have it done, I said end of Friday. He was happy and sent me details of how many words were to go in each sub-category, how many sub-categories in each category and a spreadsheet in which to upload all the words.

I got started on Wednesday evening and quickly figured out that it was best to figure out all of the categories and sub-categories first, so I did that with a pen and paper. Seventeen umbrella categories ranging from Food & Drink to Religion, from Sports & Games to Old & New Technology.

Then I wrote out 360 sub-categories ranging from all the obvious stuff to Words With Silent Letters, Things That Make People Happy, Funny Place Names, Tax Havens and Words Associated with Breaking Bad. These were going to be the best wordsearch puzzles the world had ever seen! Plus I was having fun and about to be paid $200 for the privilege. Oh, the glory.

I did this till 2am, then went back into Gmail before going to bed. And there it was:

Hi Karl

I’m sorry to tell you, but I want to cancel this project. My girlfriend is going to do this.

Thank you

Bugger.

It turns out he hadn’t officially assigned me the job, and because I’m new to Upwork and still not very good at reading instructions, T&Cs say he owes me nothing.

I’ve since been advised to ensure that the job is officially allocated before doing any work, and even ask for a deposit up front.

That will probably seem obvious to you. It kind of does to me now, in retrospect, but you know, we all have our strengths and weaknesses.

It’s a learning curve.

Now I know.

But the really great thing about it is that even at the very moment I read his message, I wasn’t angry. I actually laughed, because it was pretty funny.

The old me though, would have fumed and ranted and probably immediately sent off at least one regrettable missive.

So I’m pleased.

This unreliable man and his girlfriend have enabled me – wholly incidentally and totally empirically – to observe pleasing things about myself that I might not otherwise have observed, and I am grateful.

Maybe I should pay him $200.

No, that would be going too far, but I did send him the work I’d done.

Ha!

Partly it was to see if he’d feel guilty and give me some money anyway, but also, I thought that one of the best ways to deal with someone being mean to you is to be nice to them.

The Buddha is strong in me this week.

Fuck, yeah. And it feels good.

Plus, I have finally found (after six weeks of keeping an eye open) what’s called in the circles I’m now moving in, an Accountability Partner. This basically means that I have someone to check up on me, to make sure I’m doing all that I need to be doing, and to give me grief if I come up short, in a quid pro quo situation.

The great thing about that if you’re someone like me is that there is great shame in not doing what you’ve told someone else you’re going to do. And shame can be very motivating.

That’s your lot.

I am done.

Life is good.

I really hope yours is too.

Have a great weekend. Yeah? What are you up to? I’ve got nothing planned till a double dentistry appointment on Monday morning. It’s going to be wicked.

Tell me everything in the comments.

Go on, make me even happier, so happy that it becomes really fucking annoying.

DO IT.

x

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE, TRAINING Tagged: 3m1k, Breaking Bad, Buddha, Upwork, WORDS, wordsearch

A Lehrer, Lehrer Laughs :: Adam Kay and The Remains of Tom Lehrer

Before I went to talk Tom Lehrer with Adam Kay, ahead of his West End debut of The Remains of Tom Lehrer, I asked my friend Charles if he was a fan of Lehrer’s delicious blend of lexical gymnastics, risqué pith and delightfully scabrous social satire.

Charles, of course, had never heard of him.

So I played him three songs: National Brotherhood Week, Smut and The Vatican Rag.

He listened along quietly to such positively sparkling couplets as ‘then the guy who’s got religion’ll / tell you if your sin’s original‘ and ‘Oh, the Protestants hate the Catholics and the Catholics hate the Protestants / And the Hindus hate the Muslims, and ev’rybody hates the Jews‘.

Then he did an actual meh, scrunched up his tiny face and said. ‘It’s all a bit Radio 4.’

For some reason I was actually a little hurt. Like there’s anything wrong with Radio 4, I thought. Even so, I kind of knew what he meant.

In the mildly noxious atmosphere created by Charles’ apathy, I too had felt that maybe the songs had lost their edge. When Lehrer first sang that line about the Jews, in National Brotherhood Week, it was like Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring all over again. There were actual fist-fights in the theatre.

Probably. Adam Kay would know. For Adam Kay is a Lehrerphile. An early brush with Lehrer’s work had fostered in him a lifelong appreciation that became, as the years rolled on, more of … obsession is probably too strong a word. But to hell with it. Obsession.

Consequently, he knows more than almost anyone that the hurdles he faces are twofold. First up – ‘You mean Tom O’Leary?’ – there’s the ignorance factor. Second, we’ll call the Radio 4 factor, a fear of the gentle and the stale. It can not be denied that since Lehrer’s star burst forth, shone brightly for a relatively short while and then kind of went into hiding, things have changed a lot and, well, we’ve seen it all. We’ve actually literally seen all of it.

But it’s exactly that old-fashionedness that The Remains of Tom Lehrer sets out to address. ‘The idea of the show is to update the songs so that they do work today,’ Kay explains. ‘I mean, you can’t do jokes about Vice President Hubert Humphrey and hope to get the same reaction as when the album came out. So it’s hopefully more like a loving restoration of a classic car rather than like when they made Alfie with Jude Law in it. It’s done with a lot of love. I want everyone to love Tom Lehrer as much as I do.’

And Kay really does love Lehrer. When he first came to prominence swearing about tube drivers in 2005 – Kay, not Lehrer – he was the gynaecologist who sang smutty lyrics to other people’s songs. He has since given up gynaecology.

Together with Suman Biswas as Amateur Transplants, Kay then made an album of such songs, one of which, unsurprisingly, was a take on Lehrer’s Vatican Rag. Like a red rag to Kay’s juvenile streak, the opportunity was too good to miss. And so, combining his undeniable talent for comical word-foolery with his gynaecological expertise, he came up with The Menstrual Rag.

Despite some rather spiffing, and what might even be described as Lehreresque rhymes – ‘All that lining that she sheds leaves / nasty patches on your bedsheets‘ – the song feels, and I hate to say it, but nasty is probably about right. Or at least, with its over-easy coarseness and unquestionably misogynistic tone, I’ve always found it so. Surely this is not what we can expect from a show that’s been described as ‘a love letter’?

Thankfully, Kay is so entirely in agreement that I believe he really is glad I asked him that.

‘The Menstrual Rag is on my list of songs I regret writing, performing and recording and consequently, I’ve not done it for many years. It was written by a young me – I think of it like a naked baby photo. To the extent I truly hate thinking of it, or reading about it in features about me.’

Oops.

‘So, no – it’s not in the show. The show is a loving homage, not a sullying. I’d like to think that any Lehrer aficionado who snuck in would think I’m doing the old boy proud. Nothing’s coarse – as I don’t think any of his songs were. I’ve tried hard to make the songs that were deliberately provocative at the time, such as Smut, elicit the same reaction as they would have back then; but that’s – to my mind – a cheekiness and a subversiveness, rather than offence.’

Phew.

Of course, Kay has come a long way – and presumably matured enormously – since he first splashed himself all over the internet screaming with Biswas that tube drivers were all ‘lazy fucking useless cunts‘. There’s also been a gradual moving away from live performance – or ‘swearing at strangers in seedy London venues’ as his mum sees it.

Now he spends a lot more time writing and editing stuff for TV and Radio. His writing credits include Mongrels, some Mitchell & Webb stuff, The Now Show (very Radio 4) and his own BBC sitcom Crims, as well as writing words for Julie Walters to speak in an upcoming series of Very British Problems. His parents are also quite rightfully very pleased with this development. ‘…because they can tell their posh friends about that.’

He still does perform, of course, and still as much once a week, to private parties and the odd comedy club. Then occasionally there comes a gig that you just don’t turn down. One such gig for Kay entailed a visit to St James’ Palace.

‘I think I’m allowed to talk about it,’ he says.

There had been a lot of secrecy before the gig, and he didn’t actually know what it entailed until the morning of the party.

But as soon as he was allowed to know that he was to serenade Prince Harry and his cohorts at the prince’s 30th birthday bash, ’I texted everyone,’ he says. ‘Then I got to the palace and had to sign about twenty pages of documents printed on quite heavy paper with the names of lots of lawyers on them. Then in the throne room some guy dressed up as Henry the Eighth came over and told me that I wasn’t allowed to take any photos – an equerry, footman – and I was like, “Oh God, have I already texted too many people?”’ He makes a whoops face. ‘And then a couple of days later it was in The Sun.’

After his set, Harry and William came over to Kay to rap about some things. Kay was impressed. ‘They are the most socially adept people I’ve ever met. I’ve no great feelings one way or the other about the Royal Family, but they’re absolutely magnetic people. Just very, very nice. They spend their lives spending three minutes with someone and making them feel great.’

It went well, the set, but there was something slightly odd about it. ‘I would normally end with the London Underground song any time I’m in London, and it was getting slightly less of a reaction after the first couple of lines and then I realised… “None of you have um… none of you have used this… this isn’t an accepted cultural point. I thought it was pretty universal, but apparently not….” So I explained that there was a subterranean network of trains running under the city and Harry and his friends all seemed very surprised by that, and then I got on with the set.’

As for bad gigs, Kay’s worst is a toss-up between the time he was turned on by squaddies and the time he was turned on by Oxford GPs. And on neither occasion in a good way.

He’s played for army-types a few times and it was always fine before, but this time he was sandwiched in between two strippers and not really what the soldier ordered. ‘They’d been on one of their holidays and they’d come back and were very keen to let their hair down,’ he explains.

As the act before him received a standing ovation for the exemplary nakedness of her most personal areas, Kay reckoned maybe ten minutes would be wiser than his allotted fifteen. But no.

‘I didn’t complete a song,’ he says. He remembers the occasion with fitful despair. ‘It was this enormous barn and hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of these angry, horny idiots. I’m happy to call them idiots. I’m sure they do a very good day job but when they’re throwing beer cans at me….’

But that was nothing.

‘Worse still was a gig for a bunch of GPs in Oxfordshire. A little private function and it was going really well, when I made an off-the-cuff and slightly off-colour remark about Stephen Hawking and the room went quiet. It turns out Stephen Hawking’s sister was a GP at Oxford and she was in the room, and there’s no … you can’t reverse down that cul-de-sac. So I mumbled for another quarter of an hour whilst they stared at me. And that was that.’

He doesn’t gig as much as he used to.

And he seems really well on it. A more sedentary lifestyle has seen off that Stypean gauntness that haunted him a few years ago. And as to the question of his happiness, he responds, with characteristic semi-glumness, ‘I think I’m the happiest I can remember myself being.’

Much of his contentment must reside in the fact that he’s been with his partner James for five and a half years – ‘32 in straight years’ – and that last year they got engaged.

Kay’s first marriage was to a woman. Sadly, but for reasons that in retrospect may seem obvious, it didn’t work out. But of course nothing is obvious. ‘I think it’s very complicated,’ says Kay, and I immediately feel guilty about asking. He is a relatively private person, I know that, and here I am prying like a cretin.

But I really am interested.

‘It’s about being in love with a person,’ he continues, ‘and I was definitely in love with the person I married, but ultimately it wasn’t sustainable because there was something, something … I think “wrong with me” is the wrong phrase, isn’t it?’ Wry smile. ‘No, but that certainly wasn’t who I essentially am.’

Kay describes himself as not ‘mega-comfortable’ talking about his sexuality. ‘I’ve never particularly exploited the fact of being gay and I’ve never particularly played up to it, much like Tom Lehrer.’

When I express surprise at the idea of Tom Lehrer being gay, Kay admits he doesn’t know for sure. No one does. ‘He’s 87 and unmarried, he’s always shirked conversations about that subject,’ says Kay, ‘and he’s a lecturer in musical theatre.’

Thankfully, Kay is much more comfortable talking about Tom Lehrer. Which is just as well, as the remains of Tom Lehrer (very nearly called A Lehrer Lehrer Laughs in honour of Cilla) consist of more than just his music. ‘I talk through his whole career,’ he says. ‘I’m also playing songs that have never been recorded before. I’ve essentially been working on this show for a decade.’

Which means, without doubt, it cannot fail to be absolutely great.

No pressure, Adam.

See you there.

…

Come enjoy The Remains of Tom Lehrer at The Ambassador’s Theatre on Tuesday 19 April, 8pm, one night only. 14+.

Filed under: comedy, INTERVIEW, THEATRE Tagged: adam kay, amateur transplants, Michael Stype, Prince Harry, Prince William, Radio 4, Stephen Hawking, suman biswas, The London Underground Song, The Sun, Tom Lehrer

Feedback Friday :: Ups and Downs (The Eight Winds)

pitches/proposals :: 5

positive responses :: 2

definite hires :: 1

English lessons taught :: 4

hours of Dutch learning :: no more than 3, but I did discover duolingo, which is by far the best language learning application I’ve used. I’ve only spent a couple of hours on there, but I loved it. It manages to introduce very subtle video game elements into spaced repetition learning, whilst mixing up the skills pretty consistently and keeping things proper zingy. I’m very excited by it. I’m doing a lot of learning at the moment and I feel it’s doing me a lot of good.

books being read :: 2 (The How of Happiness, Amsterdam)

physical exercise :: hardly any. It seems I’m choosing not to make the time at the moment. It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve made any real effort and my back is beginning to complain again. It must be time to pull my finger out. May have to invest in proper trainers.

metaphysical exercise :: one micro-session. I fell into late nights this week and consequently a few early morning rituals were written off. I pretend to blame the corrupting influence of a houseguest from the north, for making me stay up late and intoxicate myself, but in truth, one of the things I most enjoy about this level of freedom in my life is that I can dip out of a routine when extraneous occurrences call for flexibility. I still got a lot of work done this week. And I made solid progress.

routine adhesion :: 39%

week 13/52 overall rating :: 9/10. Splendid. I am full of beans and off to an exceptionally great start.

The pictures help.

This week started off really well. I applied for a job for which I was apparently unqualified with an audacious pitch that began like this:

My last girlfriend used Metrin every day and totally swore by it. I must admit, until then, I was pretty sceptical about the whole idea of skincare. I just didn’t think it worked. In fact, when we first started going out together, her devotion to Metrin was so absolute that I used to laugh at her and call her a fool.

‘It’s all in your mind,’ I would say. And she’d take my hand and rest it against her cheek. ‘What about that?’ she’d say. ‘Is that all in my mind?’ At which point I’d catch my breath and my knees would wobble. She did have the softest, most kissable skin I’ve ever known.

I miss her.

The job was to write blog posts for Metrin, a cosmetics company. The job offer began like so: ‘I’m looking for someone who’s exceptionally great at writing. Someone who has a quirky, funny and friendly tone.’

Immediately I thought yes! That’s me! I’m exceptionally great at writing. Everyone’s always saying exactly those words to me. ‘Cor,’ they begin, ‘you’re exceptionally great at writing. Oh, and have I mentioned your tone?’ So I sent in my pitch, regardless of the fact that I didn’t have the requisite 100 hours work on Upwork. A day later, I received this reply:

I nearly passed over you until you got me with that intro – I think you’ll make a good fit[image error]

I’d love to give you a shot with a few articles. Are you available to start right away?

As, dear reader, you can imagine, I was cockahoop.

I was thinking, But this freelance writing lark is going to be easy. All I have to do is flash a little verbal audacity at them, show them how exceptionally great I am at writing and Bob’s your mum’s very best friend. You have his chin. 

Then the Metrin guy asked me what I’d done before and I sent him a link to this page, which has a fairly succinct summary of most of the various things I’ve done.

Then he went quiet. Eerily quiet. Even for a weekend on the other side of the world. 

Then I was accepted for another job which seemed fairly simple so I did that over the weekend and submitted it.

Then it turned out that that job, the one that had seemed so very fairly simple, was not so fairly simple after all, and I had got the wrong end of the stick. The icky end. So basically I had to do most of it again. It was my own silly fault of course for not clarifying exactly what I was meant to do before doing it.

LEARN THIS, YOU PRICELESS DOLT :: CLARIFY EVERYTHING

By which time I’d realised for sure that the Metrin man had looked at my stuff and reconsidered. Ultimately, clearly, he had not much liked the cut of my jib. My beautiful, some would say exceptionally great jib.

Then the guy for whom I’d done the other job went deathly quiet too.

It was like I had a hex on me. 

Then I got my application to teach on iTalki turned down.

Added to which, each of the students I have in real life independently cancelled some lessons we had arranged.

Suddenly I was no longer cockahoop.

I was no longer up at all.

I was down.

But I took succour from what I remembered of the teachings of Nichiren Daishonin. To wit:

A truly wise man will not be carried away by any of the eight winds: prosperity, decline, disgrace, honour, praise, censure, suffering and pleasure. He is neither elated by prosperity nor grieved by decline. 

Or in other words, be cool. 

And I was. I got on with it. 

And then, just as surely as night follows day and great follows exceptionally, things began to turn.

The guy from the second job got back to me, we communicated and clarified and I did the job for him and he was happy.

I reposted my video to iTalki with my contact details taken out of the final frame – which was the reason I’d been rejected and in retrospect, I was a fool to put them on there – of course they’re not going to want me to potentially take business away from their platform to my own site. Duh. Then, rather than make me wait the ten-day processing period again, they immediately accepted my reapplication. iTalki is go. 

Then the person who’d been disrupting my routine with her corrupting influence – let’s call her Melinoë – Mel will do – offered me the opportunity to kick off my copywriting career in earnest. A friend of Mel’s had done a little work for a guy and he’d asked her to do a little more. Mel’s friend was busy, so asked Mel. Mel asked me. I said yes and yesterday wrote five short articles I didn’t really have to think about it too hard and now suddenly I’m an SEO expert. I jest of course, but I learned a lot. And rather enjoyed it. Which I wasn’t expecting. With more work to come. So that’s good. Thanks, Mel.

Plus, another guy who wants regular blog posts with a bit of the pizzazz that only really comes from exceptionally great writing is interested in working with me. Nothing’s been settled yet, but we’re both keen, which is a good start.

And once again, smarming in my cups of cock and hoop, I am reminded of the warning of the daishonin. If thou be wise, be thou not carried away. Neither by shame nor by self-satisfaction.

Be cool. 

It’s just life. Sometimes things go well. Sometimes it feels like someone is hurling invisible shit at you.

Anicca.

Make it work.

Here’s to a splendid weekend.

What are you up to? Anything nice?

Anon!

 

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE, TRAINING Tagged: copywriting, iTalki, Metrin, Nichiren Daishonin, SEO, The Eight Winds

Feedback Friday :: What a Time to Be Alive!

I am alive and – probably – will not die for a while….

pitches/proposals :: 13

positive responses :: 3

English lessons taught :: 4

hours of Dutch learning :: 4 or 5 I guess. It’s not massively structured, but it’s a great pleasure. And I’m not counting the hour or so it took me to make this completely pointless but for me enormously fun thing.

physical exercise :: none whatsoever. Plus I ate a lot of chocolate. I’m a disgrace. I feel like a medium-sized bowl of aardappelpuree.

metaphysical exercise :: four micro-sessions of meditation. Although it’s a pitifully small amount of time, it’s becoming easier, which feels like progress.

week 12/52 overall rating :: 8/10. Not bad. Full of promise.

…

Monday went astray. I blame Christ.

Tuesday I looked for new jobs, learned some more stuff and did some teaching.

Wednesday I went on London’s first Bike Train and wrote about it for Londonist.

Thursday I looked for new jobs, sent off lots of proposals and got one very positive response, about which I feel optimistic. Then I did some teaching.

This morning I looked for jobs again. Now I’m writing this.

Next, I have a couple of interviews I need to write up. Aside from that, however, I’m now concentrating all my efforts on finding interesting work and making money. (With which to do interesting things.) (Obviously.)

So.

Last night I had a dream.

In the dream I was in some kind of spacecraft floating through space. It was a small craft that I shared with two other people. We each had our own beds. And all three of us knew that something had gone wrong and very soon we would all be dead. 

One of the other two people onboard was a woman. I invited her to my bed. Not for last-gasp, life-affirming sex, but more so that we could both feel less alone as we died.

However, when she joined me in my bed, we both instantly became aware of the intense cold. Plus my sheets were wet. It was very unpleasant.

The next thing I knew, we had landed somewhere. When we left the spacecraft, we discovered that we had landed back on Earth, and that we were going to be OK.

At which point I woke up, smiling. I was very happy.

I was alive.

I was alive and – probably – would not die for a while.

In the dream, I knew I only had an hour or so left. Instead, here I was – fingers crossed – with decades.

I really was incredibly happy. I could hardly believe it.

Alive! I thought.  I’m actually alive!

I looked at my Kindle to check the time. It was only 2.30am.

Dutch words came into my head.

I laughed and went back to sleep.

…

Life is glorious.

…

Watch this…

God, I love her. And him. But mostly her.

Have a great weekend.

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE Tagged: Bernie Sanders, Bike Train, dreams, Dutch, Londonist, Sarah Silverman

Day Twenty :: Feedback (Good) Friday

(image: Unsplash)

pitches sent :: 2

commissions :: 0. Another outré approach, another seeming snub. Oh, and an off-the-cuff thing one morning on Craigslist. Nada. I suck it up and gargle with it, lustily.

Airbnb requests accepted :: 1

ongoing commissions/projects :: 6

English lessons taught :: 3

physical exercise :: very very little – it’s been an odd week and there’s been a small but undeniable lessening of discipline, resolve and focus in all areas. Various factors have been identified as contributing to this state of affairs, but frankly, this is neither the time nor the place.

metaphysical exercise :: again, two measly sessions, negligible but better, I have decided, than nothing

week 11/52 overall rating :: 7.5/10. A standard good week. Lots of fiddling, a little frustration and a slight drop-off in focus aside, not a bad old week at all. I shall miss it.

…

So yes. Four weeks of up and atom and things are looking pretty different on the whole. Three particulars spring to mind…

1) I’m definitely going away again. And that kind of came out of nowhere, but in a very pleasing way.

2) I have a very definite idea of how to make a living online, which I didn’t have before. Lots of new ideas, plus a clearer vision of how to bring some of the old ideas to fruition.

3) I’ve discovered I actually enjoy getting up early, and that it’s pretty easy when there’s a good, enjoyable reason behind it. I’m desperate not to get ahead of myself, but I’m hoping this is a the beginning of a lifelong habit. I find it very rewarding and beneficial. And to the tenacious little beast inside that mocks my early nights I hiss, lustily.

I’m making headway.

I have to sleep now. I’m proper goosed.

Anything else? I don’t think so.

Here’s to next week.

Anon.

 

Filed under: FEEDBACK, REAL LIFE, TRAINING

Day Nineteen :: Audacity

(image: Unsplash)

A couple of hours ago I sent an audacious pitch to Time Out magazine. I haven’t heard anything back as yet, and if my experience of pitching editors is anything to go by, I probably won’t. But I don’t care. I refuse to take it personally. (Or I try at least.) And I’m glad I was audacious. Because I am audacious.

I met a couple of new Italians on Tuesday night and one of them said to me after a ten minutes’ conversation or so: ‘Sei un pó particolare. Si vede.’ It means, roughly, ‘You’re a bit special. It’s obvious.’ And, just as in English, it can be taken either way. Special as in interesting, or special as in needs. Either way, I’ll take it. Because I am special. In every sense.

My iTalki video is also un pó particolare, and I’m glad about that too. Today I tried a few things – including exporting to Garageband and also, funnily enough, to Audacity – to try and clean the sound up, but in the end I gave up and just added in a few more explanatory subtitles. Here it is if you’re keen…

Then I filled in the rest of the application to be hosted on the iTalki site. Apparently you have to wait for as much as 10 days for a response, which seems like a long time, but so be it. Tomorrow is my last day of formal training – in the timetable I designed myself. I’m going to spend it reading up on copywriting. (I spent a few hours reading up on SEO writing by the way, and I came to the conclusion that it is not for me. NO COMPROMISE!)

Then on Monday I’ll be up at 6 and concentrating predominantly on finding work. Finding work and making money. Without compromise.

…

Everything you ever read about living well advises you to be yourself.

Sometimes it’s a struggle. Usually it’s a struggle when you’re trapped in some situation – often a job or a relationship – that suffocates you. I’m thankful that I’m free. I’m also more determined than ever to be true to myself and to convert that lack of compromise into a good and prosperous living.

And tonight I’m going out to a thing. There will be wine. Even if I have to take my own. Which I will. Sometimes there’s a thin line between audacity and alcoholism.

That’s all I have.

Until tomorrow.

 

Filed under: TRAINING Tagged: audacity, Italian, iTalki, Time Out

Day Eighteen :: Preparation

This morning at around 8am I decided that I could put off the inevitable no longer and caught a bus into town to buy a new laptop. I went directly to the Mac store on Regent Street, only to discover that they don’t open their doors until 10am.

So I went to Muji to buy a couple of new pens, only to discover that they don’t open their doors until 10am.

I shook my head at this point, quite vigorously, and cursed their damned indolence.

Then I remembered that I’d received a text message recently telling me it was time to give blood again and the donor centre I go to in London was just round the corner in Margaret Street, so I thought I’d do that too. But of course you can’t give blood on an empty stomach, or else you fall in front of a truck and die, so I went to Ponti’s and ate the above breakfast.

Please note the lack of toast on my plate and milk in my gravy coffee. That’s willpower right there. (Still a little too much meat on my plate to be totally self-satisfied but … one step at a time.)

Then I was ready to give blood. Here I am in the act…

I love giving blood.

I like to imagine the journey my blood goes on after it’s sucked from my body. Where does it end up? Does it stay in the body of the recipient? Or is it in turn passed on to someone else? Or maybe it’s spilled in a grisly bar fight. Or guzzled down by sexy vampires. I guess I’ll never know, but I wish it well.

My dad had lots of blood transfusions when I was young, on account of him being a proper weakling with a bad heart, so I grew up knowing that blood donors save lives. I still didn’t start giving regularly till I was in my 40s though. But now, whenever I get drained, I feel a lovely warm, slightly anaemic glow. Plus, afterwards, you can get drunk on one glass of wine.

Although I didn’t do that today because I had other things to do.

Here are the things I did:

1) I went back to Muji and bought two splendid pens and one splendid notebook.

2) I went back to the Apple Store and bought one splendid 13″ MacBook Pro with Retina display and one back-up drive with a terabyte of storage space.

3) I came back to Peckham and picked up a form to register with a local doctor because I have a couple of things I need to get checked out before I go off again.

4) I made an appointment at the dentist for similar reasons. And a clean.

5) And perhaps most exciting of all, I stocked up on fennel tea…

I’ve developed a real fondness for fennel tea. It’s just so cleansing.

So, after a day of focused preparation, I am now ready to start earning some money online. My first avenue of endeavour will be teaching with iTalki.

Speaking of which, I wondered if anyone would really believe that the video I posted here yesterday, full of tics, twitches and coarse language, was my actual video for iTalki, and yes, some did. Which I enjoyed, impishly. It wasn’t, of course. But this is…

What do you think? Too jokey? Too pink? Too twatty? Anything I should definitely take out? I think it’s OK. On the whole. And tomorrow I’m going to set myself up as an iTalki teacher and … well, fingers crossed. Hopefully it’ll go well because I’ve just spent all the money I have in the world.

Good for me!

And if you don’t give blood, please consider it…

Until tomorrow.

 

Filed under: REAL LIFE, TRAINING Tagged: Apple, blood, consumerism, fennel tea, iTalki, London, Muji, Ponti's, preparation

Days Sixteen-Seventeen :: iTalki, iMovie, iSweari

I’ve spent most of the past two days making my video for iTalki. It’s a perilous business if you’re in any way precious, and I must admit I am. By which I mean, I don’t want to look like…

a) an idiot

b) an amateur

c) a junkie

d) a practising paedophile, or

e) a non-practising paedophile

…and, having seen some of the other iTalki teacher videos, these are some of the fears that I have.

The first real upset though, when I actually started filming myself, was seeing how old I am. I mean, I kind of knew because…

a) I’ve been keeping count, and

b) I do occasionally look in the mirror

…but to see my face in medium close-up and in high definition for what is probably the first time ever was quite a shock. Especially with…

a) the weird blemish that appeared under my right eye in France, making my face look like an old man’s hand

b) my newly acquired blefaritis that makes me look like I stay up all night smoking crack, and

c) my lack of chin.

But then there comes a point when you have to accept what you are and stop whining. Like this guy, who was born with no limbs and is – perhaps ironically – a total legend.

Then I had to put lots of jokes in. And then I had to take most of them out, because this is a serious business. But then I put a couple of them back in, because life is funny, and I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. You can’t please all of the people, after all. Sure, some people will be turned off my apparently incessant and some would say wholly misguided desire to amuse, but that’s probably a good thing. It’s best they find out sooner rather than later.

Oh, and then was the endless aggravation courtesy of iMovie, which I used to edit the thing. It’s just the most inconsistent software, like, ever. Exporting without audio – for no apparent reason – and then exporting with audio – with exactly the same settings – over and over and over again made me really quite cross. Albeit fleetingly because, you know, life is too short. 

When I finally got a version I wanted, with audio, I realised that I looked like a half-boiled lobster, so I had to import back into iMovie and desaturate.

I still look pink and blefaritic, but frankly, I’ve had enough.

I just want it over and done with now.

So, after days of hard work, my iTalki video is ready. I thought I’d put it here first, for your delectation. Do let me know if you can think of any way I can spend another two days improving it. And please don’t ask what the ‘C’ is for. You know what it’s for.

Heh.

 

Filed under: TRAINING Tagged: iMovie, iSweary, iTalki, outtakes

Days 16-17 :: iTalki, iMovie, iSweari

I’ve spent most of the past two days making my video for iTalki. It’s a perilous business if you’re in any way precious, and I must admit I am. By which I mean, I don’t want to look like…

a) an idiot

b) an amateur

c) a junkie

d) a practising paedophile, or

e) a non-practising paedophile

…and, having seen some of the other iTalki teacher videos, these are some of the fears that I have.

The first real upset though, when I actually started filming myself, was seeing how old I am. I mean, I kind of knew because…

a) I’ve been keeping count, and

b) I do occasionally look in the mirror

…but to see my face in medium close-up and in high definition for what is probably the first time ever was quite a shock. Especially with…

a) the weird blemish that appeared under my right eye in France, making my face look like an old man’s hand

b) my newly acquired blefaritis that makes me look like I stay up all night smoking crack, and

c) my lack of chin.

But then there comes a point when you have to accept what you are and stop whining. Like this guy, who was born with no limbs and is – perhaps ironically – a total legend.

Then I had to put lots of jokes in. And then I had to take most of them out, because this is a serious business. But then I put a couple of them back in, because life is funny, and I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. You can’t please all of the people, after all. Sure, some people will be turned off my apparently incessant and some would say wholly misguided desire to amuse, but that’s probably a good thing. It’s best they find out sooner rather than later.

Oh, and then was the endless aggravation courtesy of iMovie, which I used to edit the thing. It’s just the most inconsistent software, like, ever. Exporting without audio – for no apparent reason – and then exporting with audio – with exactly the same settings – over and over and over again made me really quite cross. Albeit fleetingly because, you know, life is too short. 

When I finally got a version I wanted, with audio, I realised that I looked like a half-boiled lobster, so I had to import back into iMovie and desaturate.

I still look pink and blefaritic, but frankly, I’ve had enough.

I just want it over and done with now.

So, after days of hard work, my iTalki video is ready. I thought I’d put it here first, for your delectation. Do let me know if you can think of any way I can spend another two days improving it. And please don’t ask what the ‘C’ is for. You know what it’s for.

Heh.

 

Filed under: TRAINING Tagged: iMovie, iSweary, iTalki, outtakes