A joyful path
A cup of Joyful cliff path, Guernsey ground coffee, today while working on Richard's poems. Getting quite excited now. It is feeling like a real book now, and is packed with, excuse me, some damn fine poems. A glitch in the file, however, and it was some hours before I could persuade Adobe that I wasn't writing in Korean.
Gym again: and more gas in the tank. Spent the afternoon muttering and barking my lines. Calliope knocking over a wastepaper bin and watching me intently from inside it, before persistently trying to sit on the score. Is she trying to tell me something? I responded by tightening up the middle section. Feeling happy: the idea of music haunted by a spirit that possesses it, and pleads to be loved is very different, and exciting.
Matt came around at tea time clutching a big tin of heart-shaped biscuits prepared by his friend Guido, before zooming off to his conducting job with the Rainbow Chorus. We are going to offer the biscuits to attendees.
Lots of phone chats today. It seems many friends are attending the show, which intersperses my quiet calm with butterflies the size of death's head moths. Talked to Anton about football, in which he has lately lost interest. Mum who says Mas has a bad back provoked by lifting beds, under which assorted species of wildlife had bolted, having been introduced into the house by Salty their cat. Also my lovely French client.
All this against a backdrop of all kinds of undignified wheeling and dealing, and the effort to establish a UK Government. I've never seen anything like it, certainly in my adult life. Gordon Brown signalled his resignation, which was the barrier to a Lib-Lab pact. Suddenly the Liberal party which had been flirting with the Conservatives, has turned its attentions to Labour, and it was revealed they had been playing footsie under the table all along. Fascinating stuff.
A cup of Joyful cliff path, Guernsey ground coffee, today while working on Richard's poems. Getting quite excited now. It is feeling like a real book now, and is packed with, excuse me, some damn fine poems. A glitch in the file, however, and it was some hours before I could persuade Adobe that I wasn't writing in Korean.
Gym again: and more gas in the tank. Spent the afternoon muttering and barking my lines. Calliope knocking over a wastepaper bin and watching me intently from inside it, before persistently trying to sit on the score. Is she trying to tell me something? I responded by tightening up the middle section. Feeling happy: the idea of music haunted by a spirit that possesses it, and pleads to be loved is very different, and exciting.
Matt came around at tea time clutching a big tin of heart-shaped biscuits prepared by his friend Guido, before zooming off to his conducting job with the Rainbow Chorus. We are going to offer the biscuits to attendees.
Lots of phone chats today. It seems many friends are attending the show, which intersperses my quiet calm with butterflies the size of death's head moths. Talked to Anton about football, in which he has lately lost interest. Mum who says Mas has a bad back provoked by lifting beds, under which assorted species of wildlife had bolted, having been introduced into the house by Salty their cat. Also my lovely French client.
All this against a backdrop of all kinds of undignified wheeling and dealing, and the effort to establish a UK Government. I've never seen anything like it, certainly in my adult life. Gordon Brown signalled his resignation, which was the barrier to a Lib-Lab pact. Suddenly the Liberal party which had been flirting with the Conservatives, has turned its attentions to Labour, and it was revealed they had been playing footsie under the table all along. Fascinating stuff.
Comments