Maybe it's just because in all the time since that last post, I haven't written. I haven't been writing - in any form. I have had no words. I have had no heart for writing, no lust for it.
I remember something my friend Tom said to me as he was dropping me off at my new digs in South London one sparkling spring day an eon ago ... when I told him I used to sing all the time. Out loud. But that I had stopped singing. And stopped listening to music really. Tom said that that was literally the saddest thing he had ever heard. That I was sleep-walking. That I should start Making Sound. Otherwise who will hear me through a mouth full of sand.