I’ve always liked the line ‘I have measured out my life with coffee spoons’ from Prufrock, even though I’ve not a clue what it means. I think it’s probably not supposed to be a very positive thought, but since I like coffee, and the thoughts that go with it, to me, it’s as romantic and reflective a thought as Wordsworth’s daffodils.
Spent today at the Bloomsbury Theatre in Gordon Square playing for the final of the Fonteyn Nureyev Young Dancers Competition, All very busy and exciting, but as the theatre’s bang in the middle of my old stamping ground (round the corner from S.S.E.E.S.), I spent most of my day reminiscing about my student days. And since there’s now a Caffe Nero next to the American Church in Tottenham Court road, I measured out another week of my life in coffee spoons. Sundays in a Caffe Nero somewhere seem to be a bit of a habit these days.
Escaped the theatre long enough to try and buy a book by Murray Rothbard, but Waterstones (what used to be Dillons – that one is still one of my favourite bookshops in London) didn’t have it so I got my second choice, Hayek’s The Constitution of Liberty, which I’m now reading alongside Wolfram Fleischhauer’s latest, Schüle der Lügen and Laura Olson’s Performing Russia. It’s ironic that in life, reading and books become more attractive in inverse proportion to the amount of time you have to read them.
