Today began with me opening up Weebly, pressing the <New Post> button, writing a sentence and then deciding: not today. So I pressed <Cancel> and left it. But I've been thinking. Patricia has suddenly gone full-on into promoting her new book, The Poetry Diet. There's a book on Ruth's blog, The Mystic Cookfire by Veronika Sophia Robinson, and closer to home, I've been helping with the layout program in Apple Pages. Not that I'm an Apple person necessarily, but years of experience on QuarkXPress have finally paid off: most layout programs seem to inhabit a similar mental landscape. [Carol Buller illustrated The Poetry Diet, published by Thingley Press; Sara Simon illustrated The Mystic Cookfire, which is published by Starflower Press.]
And before I digressed into that bracket, I was going to say that the Pages exercise was all about designing leaflets, et cetera, for a new enterprise, of which more shortly. Add to all of the above: Katie has come alive in a big way, with her friend Louie, in the Thursday Group story - meeting tomorrow - and today is a day full of new air blowing in from the sea. Taking this from Ruth's blog about Samhain a few days back - "For it was understood that in dark silence comes whisperings of new beginnings, the stirring of the seed below the ground" - I begin to wonder what lively seed this could be, blown in on such a wind.
This is not a day for silence and that quiet voice. This is a day for the wind and all its voices. There are whole religions built on the notion that we should be child-like in returning to the wisdom of innocence. But maybe I shouldn't try too hard in putting together a close that combines innocence/childhood with the happy clamour of the playground and the noise of this wind. Maybe I'll just leave it there, and go outside.
And before I digressed into that bracket, I was going to say that the Pages exercise was all about designing leaflets, et cetera, for a new enterprise, of which more shortly. Add to all of the above: Katie has come alive in a big way, with her friend Louie, in the Thursday Group story - meeting tomorrow - and today is a day full of new air blowing in from the sea. Taking this from Ruth's blog about Samhain a few days back - "For it was understood that in dark silence comes whisperings of new beginnings, the stirring of the seed below the ground" - I begin to wonder what lively seed this could be, blown in on such a wind.
This is not a day for silence and that quiet voice. This is a day for the wind and all its voices. There are whole religions built on the notion that we should be child-like in returning to the wisdom of innocence. But maybe I shouldn't try too hard in putting together a close that combines innocence/childhood with the happy clamour of the playground and the noise of this wind. Maybe I'll just leave it there, and go outside.
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