Some Photos

Ramblings No. 1

To stare up at the sky, anywhere, would all look the same. Inky darkness.

Living in the "Old World" puts the ideas in the "New World" In perspective. 

My initial feeling is the long age of the land. Not that the land looks old. The length comes from people. The length of time, large numbers of people came and cultivated, established. 

I come from a pace where history if recent, yet fleeting. We struggle to hold on against new lands, and when we get our fists among the earth we are liable to rip it up and destroy it. Hungry for power against death. We must have industry, for the sake of profit. 

It brings its blessings. Health, life and casting aside ruinous illness that would snuff you out in grim ways. Slow ways. 

It brings unblessings. Curses? We don't see them as such. The wireless togetherness. My ability to send this out into the void of eyes and bots. The warmth, perpetually, so long as you work, hard or not. My food, free from effort. From being bent over the wheat field, barefoot in the garden, or hungry in the woods with naught but sticks and stones.

Once I looked at the old world with towering awe. The history, in every stone. Blood of battles seeped into the grounds. Lines of kings, queens, and history pushed into the crown. A crown built on the bones, the fists of the long dead. And we from the New World ape for that which is still remembered. We want the old, the things different, yet still us because this is where many of us came from. 

But as I am here now, with stones rising from earth, I can't help but look back over my shoulder to the place I left. 

The people there where for some time, unrecorded. Far more, their history was only carried by voice. Passed down, down, down to the next. 

It is the land that calls to me right now. Under stars. Under open or storm-tossed skies. The wild land. The land where despite our ripping, still is very wild. Deep black shadows in the woods, there, fill me with both fear and pride. 

Pride that the old world was late enough to not bury its fists so deep. Enough recognizing the wildness as more than an act of the devil. 

Perhaps this is a raving of a person who is homesick for some other landscape. Most likely this. 

My TBR Pile

My To-Be_read list was well over due for an update!

The holidays have come and gone like some food and pestulent filled tornado in my life and with it has brought a renewing of life, a budding of a new year on the branch.

I've got a few new titles. I found last year I did far more buying once I moved to the United Kingdom than I did when I was in Canada. I did get a few reads in on the summer, but nothing substantial.

What am I reading?

More of Naomi Novik's Termeriare Series. I've read the second last week and I am on to the third. Nothing beats the Napolionic War But with dragons and a text that feels from the era as well.

My non-fiction read is John Muir's My First Summer in the Sierra, which Will describes as "The Boring Bits of Lord of the Rings". I am enjoying it. I've had some eagerness towards the National Parks in the United States, to the point that I have purchased a book on them written by a Robert Stirling Yard who was a great influence and contributer to their developments.

The forth book I have is The Wolves of Winter by Tyrell. This is part of me and my best friend's book club we're starting together. I'm really excited to engage with her on this.

Another book on the list is one I thought I would never listed here or even read. Often I found old dusty versions of John Buchan's books crammed on to shelves with little hope of seeing them vanish. But after being able to read a premise and get some context to this man, I have bough "Sick Heart River". I'm hoping its a nice transition from Muir to the next thought provoking nature induced read.

Everything after this is bonus, but I am looking forward to this pile. It is not so monstorous and does not make me feel unproductive.

Back to Blogger

I am going back to blogger.

I've been on squarespace for a year and this year I've decided against it. I can't really afford it and do other things I want to do.

I'd rather do this off a free platform, and have the dosh to do something more interesting. I'm eyeing horse related adventures.

And, I've been half laid up with work created for myself. Work events, and some volunteer reading. I say some, I mean heaps. I had to read three novels that really did not interest, and it just felt like a
waste of my time.

And Christmas is coming upon with its anxiety of being far away from my family in Canada.

So look forward for posts again, less often but just more than last month.

Sugar

Co-Writing and Getting into Character

Co-Writing and getting into Character

I used to write as though I would implode if I didn't. Then I let life get in the way. Now I wear a mouth guard when I sleep and every waking moment needs to be filled with radio or podcasts. There can't be silence, because if there is, I'd hear how quiet my muse has gotten. 

It's time to get back to it. Bust out the pen and paper and the innumerable notebooks I've accumulated over the years. I've dug out my meager collection of writing aids. Kinda like a sex aid for the brain, but really I just need to deal with the fact that practice and patience make perfect. Reading has gotten back on track. 

Time to get back, let the ink flow. Let the head run as it did. Make the pen bleed like it did…

So on Sunday I piddled away at 700 ish words, hoping to flesh something out and hand it off to my friend. Even if nothing is done together, at least we can spur each other on. Did I say together?

Oh yes, well my friend and I are trying to write something together. Co-write. It'll be even harder when I head overseas. Not harder really, as we're far apart enough now that the majority of our conversations are over messenger. 

The above books, by the by, are my first few ones, given or purchased by me before 2013. Well into the heat of my writing. I have a few more now. 

Notice: I'll be posting from now on Tuesdays and Friday. God help me, I've got a schedule.

Tea, taxes and My Fitness Level

Tea is starting to taste poorly so I believe I am about to get the illnesses. 

Taxes. Gods... there will always be taxes. If only someone had told me... Make sure you pay your taxes, and let the government tax money earned in other countries as well. 

Fitness level.

That sucks. I've not been in great shape since my university days. Every other day I would do 6 flights of 20 floors. Between that, I'd do tea bo, the old 80s ones and find myself in a small measure of physical balance. Now I do 45 push up and try to touch my toes before slinking into bed feeling ashamed. 

There is a cardio element I want to bring in. As well as a more yoga element. By yoga I mean stretching. Perhaps meditation. I crave noise, but really, I probably need the silence to filter my thoughts and focus more on the things I love. 

The stretching is big though. Both my mother and mother's mother have a history of poor backs and I really don't want that to set the standard for my adult life. Of course I've not aided it by falling off horses and lifting boxes of books far to big for me. So stretching needs to be part of a routine. 

Will, who used to be a fitness instructor and is far more flexible then I, says stretching is best done in the morning. Despite this I am tempted by the night. My muscles are warm from hauling chicklit and god knows what other literary trash about, so its easy to touch my toes. Its moving beyond touching toes and seeing the places I have neglected. 

Earlier mornings for writing and stretching, I think are in order. Just a thought. 

Reading Report: Anthony Bourdain.

Second follow up report.... Reading an Article Inspired by the fella, not actually by him written by him. 

Fuck that guy for saying I shouldn't meditate! Don't follow, just do your thing! Should I have a joint and bottle of liquor hanging of me to give myself that hazy writer look? 

Should I put on the Beetles white album, rock the freshest vintage look and talk about my periods for the entertainment of the masses? 

Should I? Is that what the world wants? For me to be a millennial? Does that make me the rock star? The individual? No!

Me doing my own damn thing is what makes me stand out. I wear my t-shirts and the same jeans for the last five years (except for those new ones from December) because I like them. Because they fit and I look awesome in them. 

I don't contour my face because I think my skin is awesome. I don't put on nail polish cause I chew it all off. The only thing I wear is eyeliner because I want you to see the whites of my eyes when I've got something to say. 

Night is when the wolves come out? I am the wolf, and I sleep when I please. 

Man... Where did that come from?