The Saturday Times Colour supplement ran an interview yesterday about Alexandra Schulman the editor of Vogue. Apparently she has panic attacks, I was not exactly surprised to hear that. Schulman is a fabulous woman , she would not remember, but years ago she was an editor on the Telegraph, I wrote a number of pieces for her, one about a perfect woman who had it all and was a perfectionist freak. I mentioned that she kept her handkerchiefs with a little piece of tissue paper between each one, carefully cut to size by her own immaculate hand. Alexandra was a wonderful person to write for, sharp as a tick with an eye for the ridiculous. I hoped she was as chaotic as I am but forensically focussed on what really matters. The point is of course she has panic attacks she needs to, there are many who would be jealously watching her amazing charm and brilliance and cleverness whilst still being what my dad would have called a “good egg” . Dull people with perfect lives really don’t have lives at all. They probably never encounter all the creepy, folk the ones who circle around trying to steal up on us in the dark and according to Psalm73 have ”eyes swelling with lust and do even what they and lust” and still “come to no misfortune. But read on people “suddenly they do perish and come to a fearful end” I betcha Shulman has her challenges and some of them with issues beyond her control. What a great woman and she is not thin and who gives a damn.
Felix Byam Shaw was snatched from a beautiful life aged fourteen by Meningitis. He was greatly loved and his family and friends still mourn him and the gifts he gave to his short life. There is a fund in his memory www.justgiving.com/felix-byamshaw. This will support many things he found important in the world. Later this week his indomitable family are celebrating his life with a concert, I am honoured to be participating , today was a rehearsal of a kind. The main thing is it doesn’t really matter what it sounds like, they are brave hearted people and the result will be quirky and wonderful.
Yep, the malapropism was of course intended, learning to welcome and accept an Aswan damn of vicissitudes which gather at the walls of your castle of which you might think you are in control, is the trick, but what shines through, if you are clever enough to see it, and not on the floor of the parrot cage, is that by and large the world is full of some good kind people who come through the darkness. The Sainted One asked me why I looked so tired and washed out, after all I had only been driving a car for five hundred miles interspersed with challenges of incredible heart break…… well there it is folks time for another gin (which I made for myself.) Better to say nothing as opposed to everything. Being with someone you love who has depression is the most awful thing imaginable. You cannot tune into the weird and ghastly pain they endure, your heart goes to them you offer creature comforts which in normal circumstances would nurture and give them joy. But they do not it is all a waste of time, and you end up not caring for yourself hence my absence from my blog . I get a lot of responses, it is good to be connected with the friendship of strangers. And my blog is the bridge that connects me with the world of writing, particularly the astonishing human beings who make us what we are, the ones who are long gone and could not believe the world we have made of their courageous bequests. More tomorrow?