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The Monster stirs - Antwerp,18th August,1999

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A Monster unleashed in New York - August,1999

PIANO THINGY - INTRO - Composed by Brian Pearce (will play once per visit) 

14/08/99 - 17/08/99 No entries
18/08/99 - The roller coaster ride dominated by Gill and/or Tightrope had left little space for other matters...but, by a strange co-incidence, the whole melange appears to be leading me close to the Labyrinth exit.
The flight plan for New York includes 6 hours waiting in London (Heathrow) for the connecting flight.
With the news that my ex-wife (Paula) and daughter (Rachel) may be in London I phoned my brother (using Gill's phone) to see how the situation was in that direction.
The phonecall was answered by Paula. She is temporarily staying with my brother, whilst she organises a place in London.
So...the plan is to meet at Heathrow. It seems I will be seeing Rachel for the first time since June, 1995. She is 8 years old now.
My future plans are still frustratingly uncertain, but Brian/Rachel/Paula has the best chance, since the 'exile', of regular contact plans.
The thought of meeting Rachel both excites and terrifies me..and I suspect she would have similar upheavals about meeting me. It would be the most monumental moment since this diary began. But Antwerp is uncertain as Winter quarters.
There is much to be worked out and assessed.
Brian/Gill needs more space than the place we had planned to share allowed. So unless something suitable shows up we need to look to ourselves for accomodation.
In summary...although I will be meeting Rachel and discussing things with is still within the backdrop of 'hard to estimate what will be' in Brian's future.
19/08/99 - Having checked in at Brussels airport I try to settle my mind for the coming re-unification with my daughter...about 3 hours from now.
But I don't think my mind will clear enough to be able to be fully prepared for such an emotion-charged encounter. In the seems the only emotional comfort or support to be found is within myself. It has usually been thus - and my songwriting is a reflection of this.
MC and Kris were truly pleased and supportive as they offered emergency funds, if needed, in New York. Of course, I wouldn't utilise their offers...unless it was truly a dire emergency...but the verbal display of affection was, by itself, massively uplifting.
MC did, however, loan me 500Bfr.
The question antagonising me this morning was "Where is Gill?" in all of this.
I moved forward through the long corridors of Terminal Three...and the powerful emotional pull of the coming occasion swept me into a tide of tears. I sought to control this, but the tears flooded crashingly and I halted before the baggage reclaim sector of Arrivals. Like an emotional gladiator making his entrance. The Arrivals exit would be a parade in front of curious onlookers...divorced from who I am..and impatiently indifferent to who I am. Just someone who wasn't who they wanted...just another disappointment.
But for two people in this world it mattered that Brian would take that gladiatorial path.
I have always hoped, and wished, that the emotional efforts expended on the continent would yield someone who will give me the added strength I would need ... when the gladiatorial path eventually led me back to my daughter.
I moved forward along the Terminal 3 corridors and the emotion of the coming moments broke me inside...tears erupted and cascaded...and a feeling of helplessness came over me.
I could no longer function. I looked behind...
and saw no-one. There was no-one to bolster my last charge. Gill was not there. She was not there AT ALL all morning. She knew what I faced...
but she was not there.
Now...on this New York flight...she speaks of 'having to talk'. What is there to talk about? I really don't care anymore.
If I could, I would take the next flight back from New York to London, or Belgium - and say "Sayanora" to the lot of it.
20/08/99 - Meeting Paula and Rachel discharged all the tension. At least, on the outer level. The difficulty to communicate made the initial hour, or so, a very taxing time for both Brian and Rachel. But Paula/Brian had no such problem. We have.............
21/08/99 - No entry
22/08/99 - It's gone six in the evening.The second Tightrope performance went pretty OK, alongside the first. But I am on an island here in Manhattan. I am on an island here in another continent. I am on an island within myself.
The explosion, sudden and unexpected, out of the Labyrinth and back into the arms of Rachel has been suppressed by the same kind of betrayal that plunged me into the Labyrinth. But I am alone...and it may be that simple fact which holds the key to the lesson to be learnt.
Char, Ruana, Annemie, Gill are all elements emphasising one simple truth:- I am alone.
Rachel represents another simple truth:- I am alone. Rachel is alone.
But together, we are father and daughter. Because of that we are aware and eager for any re-union...and when the re-union occurs we do not feel alone.
Char, Ruana, Annemie and Gill have not the hook of Rachel.
The lesson of the Labyrinth is obvious, yet not obvious.

It could be imagined New York is way distant from the petty frienemy (friend/enemy) conflicts and selfish envies of the Antwerp Village. But the gamesmanship of John Swift highlighted the idea of patch protection on the Groen Platz terraces. He was exposed by me and shot down, but John is not the only frienemy agitated by Gill/Brian and the duo possibilities.
Doesn't matter though - here in New York. Doesn't it?
You can call me paranoid, but because I have psychological impulses it is possible to observe and detect them in others. It wasn't the knives of his enemies that hurt Julius Caesar - not on a soul level. It was the knife of Brutus.
So how could frienemies reach me here?
Well, there is one member of the troupe who is actually as much a frienemy as John Swift ever was. He is the worse kind of frienemy to deal with, because he is very subtle in his uses of gamesmanship.
Ken, in his black and white way, paints me as the 'star' of this production. It is hard to think of 'stars' in Tightrope. Everyone has his/her good and bad. But Lenny can also be regarded as a 'star', because his sax work and intelligent acting contribute immensely to the whole.
Who can say there is a 'star'?
Well, Ken does...and that causes competitive conflict within the egos wanting the tag.
Gill is hunting for acceptance. She talks much, but the willingness to be speaking rather than listening means she has a weakness that is hard to decipher. She is observant and can see subtle avenues, but she sees the outer layers more easily than the carefully hidden deeper motives around her. She can see much, but there are layers that elude her.
I can't explain these layers. They are matters of soul and mind conflict.
23/08/99 - My body had adjusted well to the time movement of Europe to USA. No jet lag of any great note.
But, by Sunday (22/08/99) I was completely exhausted.
Not by Time adjustment....but by emotional senses of desertion and betrayal.
The tightrope crew arrived in New York and Ken and Bonnie were on hand at the airport, eventually, to drive us to Ken's appartment in Waverley Street. Any chance for Gill and Brian to talk was drowned by the proximity of so many people in such an inadequate space. But Gill suggested we share a bed in a room where the other bed was shared by Roy and Lenny. We did this, but the clarification of Gill/Brian awaited time and space. But this never came as rehearsal took up the day and the social 'party' took up the evening.
But what caused the emotional anger of Brian was the way the night developed in scenario. Roy took the bed Gill and I had shared the night before because he apparently found the other bed too hard for his taste. Gill took the spot on the hard bed vacated by Roy, with Lenny beside her in his same area. Being last into the room I was faced with the only space remaining - the space next to Roy.
The annoyance building up in me grew and I refused to sleep in that room because of the symbolism. So I chose the couch in the living room.
Everyone had gone to bed and it seemed my tiredness would drift me off to sleep. But my whole system fizzled with hyper-tension, because mixed in with the sense of collapse between Gill and Brian was the agitation and suspicion on what could occur with Lenny and Gill sharing the same bed.
Yet within half an hour of my laying on the sofa Lenny emerged from the bedroom ...took a shower and entered the kitchen to eat and hang out. This took away the source of suspicion, but my mind remained suspicious on what may have occurred BEFORE Lenny's re-emergence.
With Roy sleeping in the same room and with the possibility that I could choose to enter the room at any was pretty obvious to a detached mind that nothing much COULD happen.
But my mind was far from detached.
I tried to sleep on the couch, but the uncertainty of what was happening around me kept me alert, rather than restful. My best move to clear away the uncertainty would be to enter the bedroom and simply take up the vacated spot next to Gill on the hard bed.
As Lenny stayed up most of the night...and as Gert and Wesley returned to stage a social party with hin in the would have been the most effective move I could have made. It would allay my suspicious mind and induce a restful enough state to sleep, because any likelihood of ouvert betrayal would be taken away.
My experience with Annemie has left me highly sensitive to correct procedures of separation...and within a framework of honour and respect.
But where I had trusted Gill and granted her honour and respect while we were in relationship I had lost this quality....because I was aware Gill/Brian was in limbo and seemingly Gill was intent on breaking up.
Yet Gill had bragged constantly about her belief in talking through relationship problems. It was her way. So the end game awaited the my mind...because to separate without talking means there is no hope of salvage for a potentially solid relationship that has just HAPPENED to have fallen under a temporary unfortunate period.
In fact, Gill/Brian had done just that.
The circumstances of living together, rehearsing, performing Tightrope and our duo, plus the cramped environment that left us feeling completely locked into each other's pocket...meant that Gill/Brian had experienced something entirely impractical on personal levels. Top of the list in "Don't do-s" in any inter-relationship manual.
Both of us knew the problem. Neither of us could work out how to avoid the problem. We were unable to re-impose a realistic scenario that offered space and freedom to the individual.
We knew the problem. We both wanted to find a solution. We couldn't!
So we ended up being propelled from one extreme of being locked up with each other onto the opposing extreme of exploding apart...once the outside energy of the New York trip imposed itself onto the Gill/Brian island.
But my soul has a powerful love for Gill...and the Gill/Brian period was one where two people reached a fantastic level of joint purpose on emotional and creative avenues. To have undergone the sheer intensity of interaction  Gill/Brian experienced over the past couple of months shows the sheer power we could have reached.
It COULD have been lifetime.
But it was destroyed, because to achieve our aims (as we saw them) we had to cement our duo into an act. The circumstances that left us uncertain on practical living space and finance combined to negate the positive benefits we had envisaged.
Impulsively...writing all this has led to my desire to mend the friendship bridges damaged by the past week or so.

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