Visions of Hell
Yesterday was a long day; it started at 4.30am as I prepared to leave for London, and ended about 3am as I got back to Sheffield, answered a few emails, and then hit the sack.
Before I left London, I spent some time in Ed’s studio. At about 10pm, I was sitting slightly stoned in my this tiny (approx. 2m x 3m, with a couple of little alcoves) fashion studio, trying in vain to learn some of my lines for the play. Squeezed in amongst the studio’s various tables, desks and pieces of equipment were about half-a-dozen other people, most of them operating some type of machinery (electric drill, lathe, sander, vacuum
cleaner, handheld heat gun…). The machinery spun and screamed in time with some loud and rhythmic Kimmo Pohjonen Kluster music, while the air filled rapidly with the carcinogenic dust of leather being drilled/lathed/sanded etc. I tell you, Hieronymous Bosch didn’t know the half of it. This was the Black Hole of Aldgate.