First Day Back: A Sony Nomination.

The man sitting next to me on the plane is  modernist British Scultpor  William Tucker travelling to London for his latest exhibition at Kings Place. Sitting with an artist in flight makes time fly but in that I am already flying maybe I will arrive even sooner.     It didn’t take long for us to find someone whom we both knew:   The mighty Michael Horovitz  lived in the same house  as Bill in the 1950’s.

I knew we’d entered british airspace when the  two  fighter planes peeled away and back to Washington DC.   Minutes after stepping off the plane a text messages arrived.   “You’ve been nominated for a Sony Award.”  . The Sony’s are the equivalent in radio of  a Golden Globe.   All will become clear on 10th May.   

By  9am I am at  Southbank centre’s  artist in residence office – The Riverside Rooms.   By 10am it’s  buzzing  with artists.  Shlomo is milling around working on his show.  Ruth Little formerly of the royal court is here.  The Cape Farewell  team and New Deal of The Mind.  

 David Dunkley breezes in,  camera in hand,  concerned with focus or seeking The Decisive Moment.  This buzz must have something to do with Alchemy.    Alchemy, is a  Southbank centre festival celebrating the culture of India inspired by artiost in residence  Gauri Tripathi Sharma.   

And then tall and kindly  Claire Stringer  of Creative Connections   saunters  in for our meeting.     We discuss my  poem which she will be painting upon the wall of The Artists Bar in The Queen Elizabeth Hall.  The poem is called Rosin andI wrote it for The Alban Berg Quartet in their final concert at the QEH.  And off she went.  

At 1pm I walk into the Clore ballroom to watch  the BBC Asian Network radio’s  DJ Nihal indiscussion with various young hip and internationally successful Indian luminaries – live on air. That finishes at  2pm or so and I make my way back to The Riverside Rooms. At about 3pm Jetlag starts to seep into me.   There is something warm,  something comforting,  about jetlag.  I still have my suitcase and decide to sweep myself home where I sleep
and wake at 2am bright as a button. Oh Dear. There is one untruth in this post.

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