Droplets

OF FORESTRY & FAEDS

On Saturday I took Shadow for a dawn walk through a forest nearby.  It's always empty apart from roe deer and rabbits.  My favourite part is the oldest bit, where the moss and lichens are thick and undisturbed and the silence is noticeable.  I was sad to see the Forestry Commission had put a sign up informing people of logging operations.  I wandered back down the road, which is so overgrown there are baby Christmas trees in the middle of it and got a real shock when a very tall man, walking softly and carrying a huge rifle with a telescopic sight, appeared round the corner.  I felt frightened when I realised I don't get a phone signal up in the woods.  After I'd stopped Shadow from jumping on the hunter we walked on quickly.  I was secretly pleased that he smelled of dog now and that we'd made a noise.  Hopefully he wouldn't get the chance to kill anything.  On our way home I saw a female roe deer trotting down the road in front of my car.  I can't help feeling the spell of the woods has been broken now though as I know I'm not alone up there anymore.

I had an afternoon and evening of culture after my outdoor adventure.  My husband, daughter and I were invited to attend the opening of a centennial exhibition of works by the artist James Faed Sr, held in the Mill on the Fleet.  I have a fondness for all things Victorian, and enjoyed the exhibition very much.  In the evening I went to the Wigtown Book Festival with my sister-in-law, mum and dad.  We went to hear the Scottish historian Tom Devine speaking.  I found his talk very informative and couldn't resist purchasing his latest book - To the Ends of the Earth: Scotland's Global Diaspora, which he kindly signed.  I also bought a copy of Scotland's Empire: 1600-1815.

OF TIREDNESS & TIDINESS

I've been incredibly tired lately.  Since the start of the year I've been really burned out.  Creative writing has taken the form of updating my Facebook and Twitter feed on my HTC phone.  I have had a relapse of ME/CFS and am in the process of trying to recover.  

I planned to update my blog tonight but instead I tidied it up.  I spent hours mucking around with fonts, removing links which no longer function etc. Not the least bit creative but essential to my peace of mind!

OF BARRIERS & BREAKTHROUGHS

When I took Shadow for a walk yesterday there were obstacles on every path.  The road to the railway was blocked by a poor lady whose car had sunk into the muddy verge.  Reversing back through the viaduct, I parked the car and we walked down past the river towards the fields.  A large, ivy covered tree lay across the path.  The tree had been dead for a while and the wind had blown it down.  We clambered over the tree and had a great time together.

I realised that some writing can be like that dead tree.  I find it hard to be honest and remove the bits which don't work.  There are always barriers to writing.  Other things often have to take priority.  My breakthough moment came when I realised that my writing is important, even if only to me, and that it is worth my time.  I am going to try and schedule in some definite times for writing instead of just hoping I will have half an hour somewhere in the day.

OF ALLITERATION & AMBITION

A friend commented that my titles are always alliterative.  It has always been my favourite device.  I know sometimes it is good not be restricted, but forcing yourself to use a certain device or form can produce surprising results.  I have been considering ambition lately and can honestly say I only have one personal ambition.  I want to be a published writer.  There are things I desire for others, things I hope for, things I would be enjoy doing or know I must do, but only one true ambition.  

When I was a little girl my parents got me a blue plastic typewriter for Christmas one year.  It was one of my most loved presents.  I never pretended to be a secretary, journalist or anything else.  I wrote stories.  I used my imagination.  I knew then what I wanted and I have always known.  Sometimes we sacrifice our ambitions or allow them to be sidelined, but they are always there and to deny them is to be disatisfied.

OF PISTES & PASHMINAS

This morning Shadow and I went for a trek through the local woods and took a previously unexplored path.  We became lost and hacked our way through the undergrowth only to find ourselves under the old railway in a deep gully.  Shadow pulled me up the steep embankment.  Going off piste allowed me to see the area differently.  Sometimes trying something new in my writing can be refreshing too.

I was cold yesterday and wrapped myself up in a pashmina.  I imagined I looked a bit bohemian.  Peeling potatoes for dinner was not easy in a lilac wrap, and roasting them while the dangly end bits got in the way was totally impractical.  I’m much more comfortable in a pair of combats and a top. I don't need to adopt a certain look to be a writer.  I simply need to write. 

OF MORNINGS & MOURNING

I am shocked by how long it is since I last updated my blog.  I have just typed up an idea I had while out walking Shadow in the frost with the full moon still out.  When I studied A215 I encountered an idea called ‘morning pages’.  I preferred free-writing.  However I have noticed that during the day I am often too distracted.  If I note down an idea and come back to it sometimes my enthusiasm seems to have faded.  I make notes in my phone when I don’t have a pen.  Going through them I one which read ‘man dancin’!  That was it!  So now I am left mourning potentially good ideas.

‘Morning pages’ work because your mind is free from daily clutter and still in that semi-dreamlike state where your imagination and memory has been in control of your thought process.  Some of my favourite stories have come directly as a result of a vivid dream, and when I walk the dog first thing in the morning ideas seem to appear easily, almost fully constructed.  At the other end of the day it seems too much effort sometimes to begin something new leaving me feeling like a failure for always being too tired.  Today I powered up my laptop this morning as soon as I came home, didn’t switch on the internet and wrote for an hour.  Admittedly it’s just a synopsis and a blog update, but it’s better than two ideas lost forever.