Perous Secret Diary - Keep Out: May 16, 2007

Vladimir Mayakovsky

i, have had a shit day.

splattered with some goodness.

this is vladimir mayakovsky.
when i lived in student halls opposite madame tussauds (on marylebone road) i used to have this picture on my door.
some people said i used to look like him.
sometimes i dress like him.
i LOVE his diagram of how to make poetry.

i like his attitude: he's serious.

i have a bizarre link to this picture (by alexander rodchencko) with helnwein and discussed this with him at manson's wedding (at helnwein's castle).
but that's another story.

it's a small world and it really IS getting smaller.

today i drove to london and sold my R32 to a kid from bradford, who, with his 3 mates managed to fleece me out of £600.
not wanting to relive the embarrassment of going through it again here, i won't recount the exact details.

it was, in retrospect as embarressing as getting mugging in the afternoon in NY (outside grand central station) with everybody watching and not helping.
but different.

had lunch at grouchos with sham and remy blumenfeld (grandson of erwin blumenfeld) and discussed some exciting plans for the future involving all three of us.
just as remy was talking about his grandfather's photos, i said to him, 'i'm having so much deja vu just now: i feel like i've talked with you about this before...but not recently...maybe years ago...?'
'happens all the time', he said...'but i feel like i know you too'.

after lunch, made it to lloyds on piccadilly to deposit the bag of £21,000 of used £10 notes to discover it was only £20,410.

feeling sick and tragic, caught a train back to the countryside from victoria.

on the way back a toothless tramp and his 'girlfriend' sat opposite me and stared, invading my space and occasionally snogged: yuk.
i had my ipod on and spent the duration of the journey looking out of the window pretending to be asleep.

at the point the tramp (thinking i WAS asleep) leant over the table and undid my bag to see what he could find, i found a 'what the FUCK do you think you're doing?'.

mrs.perou and sons came to pick me up from herne bay station.

met a local thatcher at home to discuss thatch nightmares/tax.

and then said to mrs.perou, 'i met erwin blumenfeld's grandson today and i really felt like i'd met him before and that i'd discussed photography before etc...'
'what, remy? who we met at sean and gala's wedding 6 years ago? who invited us to his summer party etc...?'

'DOH!'

it REALLY is a small world...

i believe in coincidences: that they're not coincidences.
i believe in fate.
i believe in karma.

my world makes more sense this way.

vivienne (westwood) called tonight and left such a sweet, kind message about how much she loves the pictures i took of her...
told you she was great!