head full of the concert experienced from the outside yesterday. Thousands of people in a roman amphitheater, gathered in a blaze of light there where the gladiators once died. Dizzying beats, wild excitement, dark corners filled with stinking urine.A concept for concert halls, the hall is stage is visible from outside the hall, and everyone wants to get in anyhow.
A cool morning, air conditioned. The sun is up, and free of clouds, the roar of the towns traffic sounds from the centre. The building workers next door have started their work early, lifting barrow loads of ceramic blocks onto the third floor of the concrete skeleton of their house. Barrows with places for hooks installed, a clever system.A single fly buzzing around, irritating, maddening. Stay calm, it will not bite. Domestic fly, not a high-pitched buzzing of mosquito bloodsucker fly, bane of the night.
Some light cloud, instant coffee. Wear sleeping clothes, then out to the balcony, give the workers a wave. They are working before the day gets hot, lifting blocks.
The attainment of roman building science, the arch, a structure held together by the stress placed thereon replaced by the brute force of reinforced concrete, holding everything in place by main strength.
The sound of the first boy racers tearing through Pula.
Time to take a shower and find clothing for the day.
The wife gets up and complains bitterly that there where sounds of washing machines all night.
This explains some nightmares, memories of a long time ago.
And now the son is up, morning clowning.
The day will ramble on, holidays.
Just like these notes
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