Wake up early, and sometimes, there is a cloud in the valley. Sun risen but still behind the trees, sky clear (that tiny aeroplane with its trail, an enclosed world unaware of us), grass wet, the small flowers (weeds?) in the grass still closed. Sit on the green metal bench with a mug of tea and watch the edges of the cloud move, as if there is also a wind down there. But it is a still morning.
Thought for the day: move forward and things come to you. Or rather: move forward and the world moves with you. Perhaps that sense of moving forward, that sense of positive, is the spark that gets the world moving with us. We don't notice it any more than the people in that aeroplane are aware of how rapidly they are travelling across the sky. They know it, although they don't feel the rush of movement and everything that goes into carrying them where they're going.
Tonight is the first meeting of 'Thursday's critique group', as Kath's email puts it. This group, for me, also has the purpose of providing a deadline (see under 'Visitors', right). But we're supposed to have brought something along - 2,000 words of something, seven copies - and no, I haven't written anything for the occasion.
Cue potentially productive guilt trip: I can take something old, but next time, in a fortnight, I will definitely have something new. Promise.
Bought a car yesterday. Interesting experience. More on that perhaps tomorrow.
Thought for the day: move forward and things come to you. Or rather: move forward and the world moves with you. Perhaps that sense of moving forward, that sense of positive, is the spark that gets the world moving with us. We don't notice it any more than the people in that aeroplane are aware of how rapidly they are travelling across the sky. They know it, although they don't feel the rush of movement and everything that goes into carrying them where they're going.
Tonight is the first meeting of 'Thursday's critique group', as Kath's email puts it. This group, for me, also has the purpose of providing a deadline (see under 'Visitors', right). But we're supposed to have brought something along - 2,000 words of something, seven copies - and no, I haven't written anything for the occasion.
Cue potentially productive guilt trip: I can take something old, but next time, in a fortnight, I will definitely have something new. Promise.
Bought a car yesterday. Interesting experience. More on that perhaps tomorrow.