Back this week for another shot at receiving a slow and lugubrious infusion of the poisonous platinum, and this time the platelets had rebounded back to 293 so it was Chemo-a-go-go. Slow and steady wins the race, you know. The only issue was what precise treatment to give, and there was a conference call mid-day to review it. In the end, the dosage of carboplatin and the number of days to take medication (4) were duly pronounced.

There was time in the day for a more detailed discussion of the CT scan result. “Stable”, was the word. And that is exactly what they are. The friendly spot on the right upper pulmonary lobe was exactly the same size. The slightly messy mess that is the collapsed left upper pulmonact scan fullry hilum is no messier than it was. The ‘third man’ node on the anterior mediastinal mass remains the same. I don’t have any recent pictures, but you might like this one we took earlier.

Is “stable” a glass half-full or half-empty? We’ve talked about this before, you know. Standing quite still indeed when you are in a wind tunnel is a very good thing. Not to be dragged tumbling headlong into the ungovernable purple fury of the maelstrom will do quite nicely for now, thank you.

It’s been a period for the Vortex.

We managed to catch the “New Rhythms” exhibition of works by Henri Gaudier-Brzeska. This year 2015 marks 100 years since he was killed by a bullet dead to the centre of his forehead in the First World War. It was on June 5th, 1915, and he was just 23 years old. It is bit of a special collection that Kettle’s Yard holds, because Jim Ede collected him avidly and also he acquired the estate of Sophie Brzeska in 1927 from the British Government.

Sophie and Henri were quite the couple. She was a Polish Governess, he the 18-year old untrained son of a French carpenter with ambitions to become an artist. She was twice his age. He annexed her surname to his own, but they never married. They probably never even had sex, or, at least not very often. They were both as insane as a box of frogs. They arrived into London at a time when the Futurists were being heckled by the Vorticists, and both groups hated the namby-pamby Bloomsbury Set and the fussy old neo-Georgians. They so wanted to deliver a heimlich manoeuvre to regurgitate the modern. Henri and Sophie lived on the Fulham Road and Henri had a studio under the arches in Putney. Ezra Pound bought a couple of his early pieces, but only after teasing him about the unpronounceability of Henri’s surname.

What would Wyndham Lewis and the Vorticists listen to today if they were clubbing in London? Surely, they would trace it back to old-school man-machine motorik and the disembodied dance of a Cabaret Voltaire? But now, it would certainly be the sputtering haphazard glitches, whirrs, bleeps, pops, and clicks of nu-Electronica. Or maybe it would be a haunting refrain of disintegrating music played in a decaying industrial building? One thing for sure, they be cool and having a Blast.