I've been quiet this week, despite some noisiness elsewhere.
This week things have been moving faster than I can. There was the posting and reasonably swift subsequent removal by Entrée, the youth organisation attached to Amsterdam's Concertgebouw, of a promotional campaign featuring a model's pert behind being 'upskirted' (Air on a G String, geddit, geddit, ha bloody ha? How to attract millennials to classical music? um.) And the ignoring of Amy Beach's 150th anniversary next week by every major American orchestra. And Radio 3 announced it's going to do "slow radio" (for which read "the sound of paint drying" or, worse, "RELAAAX!"). And the Proms are ongoing and I've missed the lot.
Mostly I've been stuck at my desk writing a keynote speech for the Women's Work in Music Conference at Bangor University next week. I haven't given a keynote speech before and it's fairly scary. I am therefore trying to imagine channeling my late sister's spirit. She was unique: amazonian, humourful, intellectually sharp as a diamond: her sardonic ferocity could have carved the Sunday roast. And she would not have written a first draft that's 20 pages long...
So that's been time-consuming, and I'm having tendon problems in both ankles and one arm, so I'm trying to take up yoga, which currently makes everything else hurt as much as the tendons.
And if you want to hear me making a total fool of myself, please come to the Gower Street Waterstone's on 18 September at 6.30pm in which I'll be taking part, with seven other authors who are very brilliant people, in Unbound's next pledge party. It's the book equivalent of Dragon's Den: we each have five minutes to pitch for your support... Info and booking here.
Meanwhile, juggling seven more project ideas which all need considerable development before anything can become real in any of them.
Therefore there's a blogging backlog and with any luck I may catch up soon. Back to the speech now...