The Hermit of the Twitten
In a real routine now, although this hermetic, existence does not a great blog make. Working on the poetry manuscript from eight. First thing is best for thinking. But today by 11:30 I couldn't see the wood for the trees - and felt briefly quite bleak about it. In this mood however I was able to spot that one of the newer poems was never going to work. There was a technical reason for this: it is rubbish. Two factors for successful poetry editing: time and moodswings.
I have been half thinking about getting a cat, but watching the Frasier has cured me of that. There is an episode in the last series where he is dateless, wrapped in a blanket and talking lengthily to a cat called Mr Bottomsly. I don't want to go there.
Spent a few hours working on my Skeleton stuff , which is making me guffaw delightedly as I write.
Heard from an old Warwick buddy, Tim, who has lived in Italy now for donkey's years. Quite good to see a photo of him all bearded and butch, when last we met we were wussy philosophy students, stroking our smooth chins and pondering.
Off for another swim, the Brighton pool is very crowded but I am definitely feeling a bit more lively these days. I completed a half hour swim without feeling like strip of sea wrack aftwards.
In a real routine now, although this hermetic, existence does not a great blog make. Working on the poetry manuscript from eight. First thing is best for thinking. But today by 11:30 I couldn't see the wood for the trees - and felt briefly quite bleak about it. In this mood however I was able to spot that one of the newer poems was never going to work. There was a technical reason for this: it is rubbish. Two factors for successful poetry editing: time and moodswings.
I have been half thinking about getting a cat, but watching the Frasier has cured me of that. There is an episode in the last series where he is dateless, wrapped in a blanket and talking lengthily to a cat called Mr Bottomsly. I don't want to go there.
Spent a few hours working on my Skeleton stuff , which is making me guffaw delightedly as I write.
Heard from an old Warwick buddy, Tim, who has lived in Italy now for donkey's years. Quite good to see a photo of him all bearded and butch, when last we met we were wussy philosophy students, stroking our smooth chins and pondering.
Off for another swim, the Brighton pool is very crowded but I am definitely feeling a bit more lively these days. I completed a half hour swim without feeling like strip of sea wrack aftwards.
Comments
XO
Romy