under another sun

What a scorcher. I worked this morning on poems and sent a mad brain jazz idea to Robin, and proofed a couple of poems going out in a magazine called Cerasus -- only the second edition, and I was surprised by its excellence when I saw the draft pdf.  Had a chat with Mum too.  When Lorraine came back from her trainer,  I painted varnish on two external surfaces. Then we spent the afternoon outside, I read my book Metaphors of Memory , by Douwe Draaisma, which is as its subtitle says is A history of ideas about the mind. I have been reading this for perhaps two years now, and still haven't finished. But it is absolutely central to the stuff that preoccupies me at the moment. Also Dandelion Wine , by Ray Bradbury. I read this years ago -- but decided to revisit it, principally because it is so nostalgic and autobiographical, I want to delve more into its technique. In the introduction he writes that at an early stage of his writing, he taped the phrase don't think where he w...