I went to visit my old friend Steve Dwoskin yesterday. Crabby and funny and combatant and lovely, in his big electric wheelchair.
It’s impossible not to admire his spirit. Multiple carers now come in at intervals, and two of them are needed to get him into bed at night. He used to be able to deal with that himself, but respiratory problems have limited his options even further. Inevitably, he has to go to bed when it suits the carers – never later than 9pm, and that is a pain for a natural nightowl.
But it is the IPad, he reports, that has saved the day (or the night). It’s meant he’s able to lie in bed with it and work on his biography, or on his new film project. The film is to do with the experience of ageing. What images occur, he asks, when I think about it? He’s collecting images. Another friend had offered a clock with its numbers of washed away.
For me, this card I’ve had up on my wall for years, says something –