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OK, confession time.
Jane Brocket was discussing how she read An Education ‘in one ‘gulp’ or ‘glorious go” after seeing the movie.
Which reminded me of the last time I did such a thing. It’s pretty rare these days for me to read in one gulp. Is it as I get older and have more to do I just don’t have the leisure time? Not really. I think it’s been an awfully long time since I’ve found an easy to read ‘unput-downable’ book. I guess my standards are getting higher, like when you’re too old to appreciate Milo straight from the tin. Which kind of sucks.

So here’s the ugly bit- the last time was about 2 years ago…. and it was Twilight. *cringe*
I didn’t like it. I felt very very dirty. But I couldn’t help myself. It was like reading rough cut vampire Mills and Boon crack. It was dirty sex with a strange man.
I read it because I had a pretty good idea it was awful, and I believe you can’t thoroughly deride something unless you’ve actually experienced it. So I am immensely qualified to say what I like about Twilight and Twihards, which I do freely whenever I encounter it. But I can’t deny it was very easy to read.

But back to the main point- I’d really like to find some books worthy of a ‘glorious go’. I’d like to find some more experiences of feeling gritty and tired and slightly detached after reading all night, with that lingering feeling of immersion in that other world that completely consumed you.
If you find a book that good please let me know.
Especially if it doesn’t have any vampires or emotionally retarded girls who think stalking is a valid display of affection.

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Jumspstarts that revive my shrivelled mind:

  • French Earl Grey tea. I could sniff this stuff all day long. If angels farted this would be what it smells like
  • Big blue skies that go on forever
  • Winding roads through rainforests or bush
  • Those yellow daisies that grow by the side of the road and in fields
  • Watching guinea pigs eat – squee factor of 50+
  • The Psychedelic Furs

When my mother died a little while ago the house was innundated with flowers, most of them lilies, being the flower associated with funerals and death. I have to say I am not a great fan of lilies to begin with, and a houseful tends to get on the nose. As DH said one day when he walked through the door- ” did someone burn plastic in here?”

Perhaps they make a good metaphor for life and death, as they start looking strong and vibrant, but when they die they don’t dry and fade, they rot. Fast. Usually leaving a few stains for good measure.

So while I was mourning surrounded by floral tributes to decay and death, I really appreciated 2 wonderful bouquets I received from mum’s friends which made a far better tribute to the passing of a beautiful life, with not a lily among them.

The first was an amazing bunch of long-stemmed pink roses from a friend who runs a florist that specialises in roses (here’s a plug, they are wonderful). They smelled (or smelt? the dictionary seems to think either or) glorious, and lasted a long time, slowly fading away. Their soft beauty was a real token of life’s transience, in an uplifting way.

The other beautiful bouquet came about 3 months later, excellent timing in fact. When Mum died it was so busy packing up her things, planning the funeral, talking and corresponding with people, staying upright, that I didn’t have much time to be really sad. It hits you a while later when everything settles and you realise that the ‘event’ is over but you now have to live with this hole inside you for the rest of your life. So these delicate hydrangeas were a gentle breathe of relief.

Needless to say, if someone you love dies, I sure as hell won’t be sending you any stinky lilies

2010 is the year of rebooting my creative self, who has been on hiatus for a couple of years now.

Life came up and booted me on the bum, and my creative well burbled ‘I’m not taking any of this shit, I am an artiste‘ and dried itself up.

I certainly never stopped appreciating beautiful things, but was quite content to look, touch, taste, smell, hear and marvel, but that has been it

No more! I am splendiferous, and I will…

  • learn to weave
  • push myself to grow and create
  • stop using patterns (or modify existing ones)
  • embrace my stranger urges
  • no longer be afraid, or tired
  • leave things in my head
  • post once a week