Art and adversity

It’s been a fairly quiet few days. My comings and goings are reluctantly being dictated by whatever the weather decides to do at any given moment. It’s been a very wet summer. Even today, we’re overcast and there’s a cold breeze in the air. I fear it may even rain soon. A big music festival is on in-and-around town, so I feel inclined to avoid that area. Shame really, as I do fancy getting out. Typical, huh?

I went out to the pub briefly on Friday, but that was rather uneventful. It was one of those situations where I forced myself out, thinking it might help my lethargy and mood. It didn’t. If anything, it just made me feel more tired and bitter. I’ve not felt in the mood to drink recently anyway, so that’s obviously making me change how I plan my activities. You can't ben an alcoholic layabout without the alcohol, after all. I’m sure I can find some way of entertaining myself.

At the risk of jinxing it, I have found myself sleeping a little better this week. Perhaps that’s the lack of booze. Who knows. Last night was a little tricky though, as everyone in the neighbourhood seemed to be having a party. I guess it could have been just one big party, but there seemed to be several layers to the drunken soundscape. I got up and crashed on the sofa after a while, as I was getting fed up of overhearing conversations in thick northern accents. I’ve lived here for ten years now, but I still struggle. It seemed to work though, as I woke up next to my laptop hours later with the sun up. I dutifully went back through to my bedroom for a bit before getting up properly. I definitely got my eight hours minimum.

Well, it’s Sunday, so the buses are crap and taxis may be hung up serving that damned music festival. I guess I could always go out for a walk. LOL. Or just order a takeaway later. I’m trying to think what cuisine I fancy. Chinese? Possibly. I’ll see how I feel around five o’clock-ish.

I’m doing a little more audiobook listening and creative writing at the moment, which is filling me with a cautious sense of positivity. I’m leaning more towards wordy classical literature, so during the day I’m reading Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way, and in bed I’ve just started on Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. I’m still not sure whether I’m in the main body of text with the latter, or still just the preface. I’m keeping both possibilities open, so as not to get annoyed and confused. The reader of Les Misérables is outrageously French. In a fun way. Neville Jason reads Swann’s Way, who also does the reading for T. H. White’s The Once and Future King series. He’s always a joy to hear, but sadly passed away in 2015, which brings me great sadness. Apparently he appears in Ridley Scott’s The Duellists, so I might pop that on today and keep an ear out for his gentle voice.

Writing-wise, I’ve started on that romance I mentioned a few posts ago. I’ve decided to make it semi-autobiographical, since that was where the inspiration sprang from. I usually prefer writing from a third person perspective, but this time I’m going first. It’s very odd, plus there’s the temptation to ramble, especially if it’s sort-of about oneself. If it gets really bad, I suppose the rambling bits can be trimmed in editing. We shall see. Starting this new piece is also giving me the inspiration to dust off my other two long-form works so, with any luck, I’ll inch myself closer to some sort of completion. Stranger things have happened!

Anyway, I shan’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re all very busy people.

Do stay in touch.

Toodles!