Perous Secret Diary - Keep Out: January 29, 2006

all roads lead to HNEY (or perhaps ley ton)

slept for the first night in a while.
but woke up tired and hungover with the kids at 6.30am

mum-mum and dad-dad stayed over last night and came with us all to 'soft-play' this morning.

after, i bought some paint at b&q and bread etc... from 'panic attack asda'.
unexpectedly coped with it ok.

i currently swing from feeling very positive and motivated about our current housing crisis to shattered and demoralised by the bastard of it all.

yesterday as i was tidying up the yard and gardens, i kept remembering how much effort we've put into this place over the last 6 years and i can't help thinking what a waste of life that's been.

small things like when mick built us a brick plant pot on top of a pillar to grow russian ivy out of accross the razor wire.

or when we were desperately putting up razor wire with james (todd), in the rain to try and keep the gypsies out...and me wanting to paint in massive letters on the side of the house 'f*** off gypsy bastards': the irony of which...

or when hackney wick flooded 2ft underwater and mrs.perou woke up and said 'wow babe look out the window: the streets completely flooded' and i said 'SHIT! if the street's flooded, so are we...'
and we went downstairs to find all our things floating around in canal and overflowing drain water mixed with deisel from next door...
when we finally pumped it out (after the council finally bothered to clear the blocked drains) we found dead eels in the studio.

when we first moved to the factory, there wasn't glass in the windows, there wasn't central heating, hot water even or a bathroom.
i personally repointed in-between every brick in the building (with the help of anyone i could muster inc. melinda and keith: big props).

the first months that we actually owned the factory, i used to come in early, get changed into overalls, repoint, sand floors or strip 100 years of paint off walls and then get changed into a suit and go do a shoot...after which i'd come back to the factory, get changed into overalls again and carry on till late.
it still wasn't ready by the time we moved in proper: we used to have to wash up in the sink of the toilets that had a small electric heater in it.
fortunately maximum and z weren't with us then.

listing all we did to this place will just irratate me/ upset me/ bore you.
so i won't anymore.
but we worked hard on it: made something of nothing and now we're about to loose it.
:(

even in our short care-taking stint of this factory (6 of it's 106 yrs) this place has been full of life and stories.
the shoots that we've had here, the people, the parties.
good times to be remembered.
not all will sink with the ship.

morrissey (the real one) told me 'don't worry about it: it's just a house'.
i know it's good advice.
i don't really care about the material possessions i'm lucky enough to have but i do feel very connected to this building.
and i feel very connected to this area (hackney wick).

imagine how i'd feel if someone was burning 6 years of my negatives but saying, 'don't worry: i'll financially compensate you' as though that would make the destruction of my creativity alright.

yesterday we went for a walk with the boys and stratford to victoria park.
i haven't been there for a while.
I almost started crying thinking how i will miss it and how much unique character there is here: soon to be lost.
which is pathetic, i know.
quickly swung back into just being pissed off about it and up for a fight.
it pains to imagine the developers thinking they're creative people, making something out of this old, derelict (special) place.

sorry: i'm sad...about a building...how sad am i?