Taschen. Delivered.
Brilliant.
Man just turned up at the door with a nice box. My books from Taschen.
Good packaging with those huge air bubbles and all the books in perfect order despite being supposedly damaged stock.
So far I’ve glanced at the book on Tado Ando, the Japanese architect, and I’ve in love with it already.
There’s one called Trespass which is a sort of ode to the Banksy brigade of urban art graffiti artists and then Brand Identity Now, which will be with me on the train to London in a bit, in fact very soon.
I hope the weather down south is better than here, bloody great hail stones hammering down on Manchester at the moment. They suit my mood though. I feel a bit thundery myself, no doubt in part due to the large number of beers imbibed last night in town before an excellent curry at East 2 East, which I reckon is Manchester centre’s finest.
Better pop a couple of pills and order a cab. No time for taxi now. Silly arse that I am.
Sat on the train now, unusually empty and I’ve got a table seat to myself. Not that I’m going to work though. What I really need is a pillow. It won’t be a difficult meeting, but nonetheless I need to be on the ball. In my memory print suddenly gets a whole lot cheaper when the buyer starts to walk away.