May 5 2011

off the grid

Rosemary

Or, more correctly, ignoring the grid.

I am successfully ensconced in an exclusive luxurious literary hideaway (tranlation: cat-sitting for friends with a nice big house), and have been flailing my brain into a creative productive mode. The work at hand is, yes, still the Seekrit Project, sorry. But the damn thing is mocking me now, and must be shown who is the boss.

It’s nice to sleep as much as I need, and to read for more than 15 minutes at a time. My DayJob is a job of terrible little details, all of them antithetical to my nature. The only way I can be good at it is to expend massive amounts of brainpower on STUPID LITTLE THINGS.

There’s a reason that artists and writers and creative people tend to be absent-minded: our minds actually are someplace else when we’re creating. Being forced to be Right Here Right Now all the time can be pretty horrible.

So this week, I’m free to enter the airy realms of inspiration, to weave scintillating dreams, to explore the truths behind reality and sound the blazing heights of —

OMG! Baby geese, baby geese, BABY GEESE!

I shall call them William and Kate

I shall call them William and Kate

Plus: Lots of sky.

Also: a good hour-long walking path around the pond where, although it is May, the results of April are much in evidence.

Like this:

... the droghte of March hath perced to the roote/	And bathed every veyne in swich licour/ 	Of which vertu engendred is the flour...

... the droghte of March hath perced to the roote/ And bathed every veyne in swich licour/ Of which vertu engendred is the flour...

And it looked like every tree had one of these guys:

... and smale foweles maken melodye ...

... and smale foweles maken melodye ...

Three more days of this…