Alan Taylor

must try not to be sucked into other people’s problems when all it does is drain my energy.

walled town, public holiday, everything’s shut, walk around the shuttered windows, snooze at the hotel, go out for some dinner (if anything’s open) find the obviously annual relay race around the old town going on (the blue team won), the whole town watching, families everywhere, little children running around or sitting on laps in cafés (even at midnight) totally included. A practised sixth sense leads us to the big open-air pizzeria, red wine, salad, coffee, perfect.

29 August

Very sleepless. The deepest sadness, now depression, settling way down low in the pit of everywhere. Elastoplast – whatever, needed to drag it all up and out for an afternoon of interviews.

First an 11am chat with Judy & Patrick. Something has to be said about Holy Man. How much more work can I turn down?

Meanwhile mixed reviews as far as I can tell. Some of them get it. Some of them not. Start rearranging the inside of my head. Again.

I need months off.