Amused
Up early giving the old chien fou a glass of orange juice before he headed back up to London to do an honest day's work. For my part I worked on a book proposal, and some poetry.
Also my investigations are sending me to read lots of poetry again, delving back into Milton, and Homer. This in part thanks to Calliope, who is named after the Greek muse of epic poetry, and has set me thinking about muses in general. There is a convention in epic poems through the millennia to evoke a muse at the beginning of the poem to help the poet get through whatever has to be written. I very much like the idea of summoning something from silence, because I believe that the poetry I like comes from a dialoge with silence.
Like this in Milton, early in Paradise Lost, where the poet calls on the help of the muse, or “spirit”. Milton wants its help to aid him in “Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.” He pictures this muse, probably Urania the muse of astronomy,
“...with mighty wings outspread
Dove-like sat’st brooding on the vast abyss”
A vague yet haunting image. As I was thinking about all this, the kitten had to be sin binned for 15 minutes after cramponing up my legs to savage the computer leads a dozen times in five minutes.
A light lunch and another swim. Spoke to Mum briefly who was about to paint skeletons, so I didn't want to interrupt her flow.
I'd worked hard this week, and achieved a great deal. I have also found I have a great deal of clarity on my projects. And also put in an appearance on the local radio too. All well. The late afternoon I devoted to practical tidying etc. although vacuuming is thought by the kitten to be an abomination.
Had a nice Frasier Cranish hour this evening waiting for Lorraine to come around. Everything was tidy and smelling fresh. I sat listening to Nina Simone (managing not to cry or open a vein), sipping tea with the kitten dozing on my shoulder companionably and felt pretty damn cheery.
Lorraine was in need of a beer, so we went out for a cheeky bitter in the very busy Battle of Trafalgar, which is a mere 30 seconds walk away. Lorraine told me all about her complicated week, before we bought some fish and chips and scarfed them in front of the television.
Up early giving the old chien fou a glass of orange juice before he headed back up to London to do an honest day's work. For my part I worked on a book proposal, and some poetry.
Also my investigations are sending me to read lots of poetry again, delving back into Milton, and Homer. This in part thanks to Calliope, who is named after the Greek muse of epic poetry, and has set me thinking about muses in general. There is a convention in epic poems through the millennia to evoke a muse at the beginning of the poem to help the poet get through whatever has to be written. I very much like the idea of summoning something from silence, because I believe that the poetry I like comes from a dialoge with silence.
Like this in Milton, early in Paradise Lost, where the poet calls on the help of the muse, or “spirit”. Milton wants its help to aid him in “Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme.” He pictures this muse, probably Urania the muse of astronomy,
“...with mighty wings outspread
Dove-like sat’st brooding on the vast abyss”
A vague yet haunting image. As I was thinking about all this, the kitten had to be sin binned for 15 minutes after cramponing up my legs to savage the computer leads a dozen times in five minutes.
A light lunch and another swim. Spoke to Mum briefly who was about to paint skeletons, so I didn't want to interrupt her flow.
I'd worked hard this week, and achieved a great deal. I have also found I have a great deal of clarity on my projects. And also put in an appearance on the local radio too. All well. The late afternoon I devoted to practical tidying etc. although vacuuming is thought by the kitten to be an abomination.
Had a nice Frasier Cranish hour this evening waiting for Lorraine to come around. Everything was tidy and smelling fresh. I sat listening to Nina Simone (managing not to cry or open a vein), sipping tea with the kitten dozing on my shoulder companionably and felt pretty damn cheery.
Lorraine was in need of a beer, so we went out for a cheeky bitter in the very busy Battle of Trafalgar, which is a mere 30 seconds walk away. Lorraine told me all about her complicated week, before we bought some fish and chips and scarfed them in front of the television.
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