I'm very tired, so shan't be writing very much today. Last night was pasta followed by the Rameau documentary, and performances of In Convertendo and three of the Pieces de clavecin en concerts. Bed at ten. The people upstairs was a cunt.
Earlier on I did the workshop for three separate groups of primary school students. Someone in the second group pinched the £1 coin out of my cap, and someone in the third group pinched the cap. You couldn't make it up. They enjoyed themselves though, and were all up for the dancing and playing the tambourine. The weather was hot and sunny, and they ate their packed lunches in the garden. An autistic boy and I latched on to each other, and I got him playing my keyboard. The kid was obviously very bright, and asked me if I would give him piano lessons. I asked his teacher to try and sort out some lessons for him.
When I got home I hanged my few pictures on the wall. I had thought that my tenancy contract forbade me from doing so. It was only when the landlord's agent came to inspect the flat that I found out to the contrary. It has put my mind at rest, as the pictures all mean something to me. My mum's photo used to lie on its back in the hall, and I did feel very uncomfortable about that.
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