Sirocco Stream

It's been a good run lately, I've been doing this for a while now and so I've picked up a few tricks from the old timers.
We're flowing with the solar winds for the next three cycles, a lovely extra kick-along, and it has put us into the path of the mild and loose social connections that natural nomads make. The bodegas in the port worlds are just that tiny bit more full with the more colourful and experienced characters. There's a light camaraderie that I had grown out of hoping to find, and here it is, under the current and seeping into my world.

I'm carrying settlers at the moment, their enthusiastic hopefulness and optimism is catching. I find that I am happy for no reason.

Scale Free

This morning I went to an art/science workshop called "Scale Free Networks" where we used massively magnified slides to assemble and then interpret images and make collaborative artworks, and then spent about 45 minutes tooling around looking at random stuff (ribbon, stone, sponge, fungus, coin, moth wing etc) under stereo microscopes (20x and 40x magnification). The workship was led by an artist and a scientist (molecular biology) and they shared with us a very little about the history of microscopes and then some images, and we talked also about the freedom of working collaboratively across disciplines. It was all too short (2 hours) and stimulating to mix up the nuanced and emotive values of art with the tools and language of science.

I love the way so many things in nature - shapes but also really relationships scale up and down. Everyone has their own experiences of this - from the coastlines of Norway designed by Slartibartfast to the edges of grilled cheese, to the way skin peels when it is sun burnt and the spreading silt echos on a flood plain, veins in our arms and nerves in our eyes, or the gorgeous aching arch of a solar flare or a Lilly's gentle pitch to sensuous tip. Those of course are shapes, but they're relational in time and space - as we are.

The way we trust, or dance around trust, the way we share, or close down and step away, the way we cluster as individuals (and relate to ourselves) or with others - intimate groups on specific lines of interest or in masses - for the kick that comes from tens of thousands cheering together - be it at the ritual of a ball through posts or for the frisson of balls on balls. Highly codified clothing or no clothing at all. Meaning held in the action translated through the lenses of our own experiences. In art as in science so many things are taken as truth that would be so much more useful to our understanding of each other more broadly if they were understood as multiple frames of position and preference.

"Lost my muchness indeed!"

This work is good work

Two hundred and twenty-four letters need to be printed (4 goes it took for the printer to acknowledge the tray, the correct paper, the single-sidedness of the issue) each needs to be folded (by hand, so the crease is right to read the address through the little window) and go into one of two hundred and twenty-four envelopes, each letter to be accompanied by two copies of the competition form.
Dull day much?

There have been worse.
This client loves a personalised mailout. The largest so far was for 8000 but I made the client pay a rambunctious group of seniors to do the folding and stuffing (the printing alone took me over 7 hours). It would be easy to think that this kind of thing is a real low-point of my job. So tedius, so old-school, so, so predictable. And so yes they are tasks I'll procrastinate over a bit, mostly because once I start them they create massive drifts of papers and if it all gets interrupted (paper jams, unexpected meetings, file crashes) it can be a real mongrel to figure out where everything was up to.

But...
Actually these mailouts hit nearly all of the key criteria for satisfying work! How can this be?

1. It is easy to tell when I'm finished - the letters are put into our mailroom lady's hands. We exchange brief pleasantries.
2. These letters work. Addressed to previous customers who have purchased tickets to a similar show in the last 2 years, these are qualified, hot prospects. They sell tickets.
3. At the end of the process there's no further anxiety - that happens up front when I want to do something either new, tricky or clever with the copy and the client wants things nice and normal. Once that discussion is resolved for each project it is virtually a mechanical process to complete. I don't lose sleep over it once the lovely mail lady takes charge.
4. Did I mention that they work? We know because of the timings of sales after postage, but also because when we put a special offer in the letter, we can track the results super easily. Last time 800 letters got us over 100 sales. Sweet!
5. The client doesn't have to pay for postage and they get sales - mailouts make them happy. Happy client = less stress for me.

So as I sit folding, folding, folding, and stuffing (and checking I haven't put them in backwards) I can turn my brain off knowing that the only risk is a paper-cut or keep it on a little and browse some news and listen to music safe in the knowledge that although it might not be glamorous, exciting, interesting or something that would ever ever get mentioned in ads or shows about this industry, this work is good work. I am content.

At Home

I staked up the rogue tomato plants this morning and discovered that they're not just flowering but have set fruit, in June! That was a cute surprise adding to the fact they they're growing over the top of the sweet potatoes. I've got one square meter of garden where every thing's happening. The cauliflowers I tried are all dead and gone. Apart from that one very cold morning last week (about -3⁰ I think it was here, which I thought would kill off the tommies) it is a mild winter so far.

I'm back in touch with the yard because this month I've borrowed a half-remembered part of an English tradition and have decided I am "at home" for my weekends this month. Which means to me that I am by default at home or that I won't be going anywhere simply because of obligation, habit or to fill in time. I've reclaimed the sleep-in! (and the afternoon nap!)

Two weekends in and I'm caught up with myself a little. I have realised how many projects of every kind I've started over the last year or so but left scattered around the house. I'm a full set behind in my subscriptions reading, but that now is back to feeling like a treat in store rather than a task to be completed. I went to two stores today and found it easy to zip in and grab the items on the list and nip back out with just the things I needed and not another armful of stuff. I got some drill bits to put holes in my button blanks and some elastic and batting to make a night-cap (my head is cold when I go to bed. How Dickensian I shall look!).

Yesterday I finished a book (Thursday's Child by Sonya Hartnett. The play is coming to the client's venue in August and as I'll be promoting it heavily, thought is would be good to have a clue what I'm talking about as the material the touring company sent us is heavy on how awesome they are and very light on plot/character details. As usual. It's great too, so I can happily throw my shoulder to the harness for this one.) and then read Twilight (by Stephanie Meyer). I'm possibly in the last 20% of the human population to read this, so I won't say much about it. I think it's more a thriller style than a romance, and that's about as much as I'll venture for now, and yes I'll read the next one.

So with some sleep back behind my eyes and clean sheets on the bed my sense of goodwill-toward-human-kind-O-meter has drifted back into the realm of the positive and I can bid my fellows a good morrow with nary a sneer nor a sardonic riposte in my mind. Hoo-Ray!

Also, Kerryn gifted me owl patterned flannelet jammies! All is right in the world!

Oh Happy Day

Along with millions of other people this morning, I'm in love all over again. Barack Obama has been inaugurated as the 44^th President of the United States of America. He and his family and his team and supporters have created a king tide of hope that sloughed off the mud and spite thrown during the electoral process to wash into office. The swelling pride in the unfolding of this historic event (a first African-American President) took pauses to see if the corruptions we were hurt so badly by in the past would try again (the Florida polling fiasco, dodgy sexual shenanigans, or worst of all, a successful assassination attempt), but they did not. And day by day we came closer to this, Inauguration Day.

I feel like I have been holding my breath since last November. Something akin to living in a movie where the best president in the world has taken office and wrongs begin to be set right, and any moment now the credits will roll and I'll have to walk out into harsh reality. The first US President I remember was Ronald Reagan and his UK counterpart, the Woman who Wore the Pants (or Pearls whichever you prefer), Margaret Thatcher. I've grown up and lived my life in the cold shadow of cynicism that was cast by these people. Their rule was for the benefit of business, of the material, of fear and aggression. I have had my heart broken by the promises of politicians over and over again. For so long it was an abusive relationship of co-dependence and I had to withdraw from it, and turn my heart to the same stone of the people I had despised just so it would stop hurting.

Today that hard stone has melted. There's wisdom and strength in his leadership, and it is shared through a warm confident voice that pitches us sombre speeches of responsibility that ask us all to find a more courageous path towards a better world. History happened today, and not just the facts of firsts and the dates of transitions. Millions of people listened to the same words and together reflected on our relationship to this manifesto. For he spoke to each of us. Here is a tiny excerpt from his speech.

"And so, to all other peoples and governments who are watching today, from the grandest capitals to the small village where my father was born: know that America is a friend of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions.
They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its prudent use. Our security emanates from the justness of our cause; the force of our example; the tempering qualities of humility and restraint."

This is a magnificent day.
I want to believe that this is real, that it is really happening. Even more, I want to not feel like a fool in a year's time for daring to hope that we can heed this call. I'm inspired by the crafting of this speech (as are many others) and I hold a cherished anticipation of what it heralds for America, and because we're all in this together, for all of us.

A happy day indeed.

Enlightenment from Band T-Shirts

I was just thinking that I would tell you about my time ITRW¹ over the last few days, given that I've had a 4 day long weekend. Some of that time was spent implementing project "Cheerful" by going to the QLD GOMA to see the exhibition "Optimism" and to a concert (concert doesn't seem the right word for 6 bands over 8 hours, but neither does "festival" fit anything where Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds are headlining) and then a large amount of time doing very normal things (took out the rubbish, started trying to make a picture of a giant octopus -as you do when you have a bit of time, went to dinner in Ipswich, and yes, we were the only people in the place on a saturday night at 8pm!, set up my new second-hand computer which won't boot up *sigh*, tidied, messed, washed, dried. Dull as dishwater. Literally).

I'm still processing some of the art/music experience. It was a very big day. I was going to root through it all and find some nugget of insight about public entertainment, give a little review of the event, share something pithy about the ecology of band t-shirts that were on display, maybe mention that I deliberately rationed myself to a max of 2 text messages to any person I felt compelled to say something to while there .... but either I'm not going to make enough sense of it and how I felt about it or in some important way I wasn't really there.

Isn't that weird?! If I'm not the one living my life - than who is?! Is the real me off in a different probabilistic 'verse having a much better ITRW experience and I'm just keeping this seat warm? Of course, scientifically that's hard to substantiate² so Occam's Razor⁴ would suggest something else is the true cause. Buddha tells me that this is the experience I'm having and I better come to grips with it. Strangely enough, it was a T-shirt on a tall lanky man who walked past me many times to fetch beers that has, in hindsight, untangled this knotted skein of transcendental angst. His shirt said, "Don't just listen to the music, feel it". Feel it. Hmmmm. Feelings .....

Feelings happen in the body, and I spent that time here. In my mind.
I was watching everything, noting, cataloguing and analysing it, thinking about ways to capture it ... not experiencing it. OHH!! (sound of light coming on) Gee whiz. Of course. What a drongo. Feelings might be important to project "Cheerful". I get it. Figured that one out all by myself. Ok, well there's a good heads-up for next time. Good thing I didn't get too committed to that idea of actually being busy in another probabilistically linked universe hey!!


1." In The Real World "
2. i.e. I borrowed that concept from a SF book and it has no Scientific basis AT ALL³, but it's a great story, you should maybe have a look at it - Anathem by Neal Stephenson. If you're going to steal - steal from the best.
3. Maybe a little in some little backwater of time/physics that I haven't got to or understood (that's not narrowing it down) so I can't say definitively that there's none at all, but, you know, it was fiction, and he normally footnotes really cool real things. So if it is real, don't hold it against me, but it's like, massively unlikely. That's all I'm saying.
4. I meant this is the newer and slightly less accurate sense, but in reading this reference, realised that both are applicable in this instance. How fortuitious! Also, here's a good example of where a mass usage, although incorrect, has already modified the primary meaning of the phrase. Inexorable! Another good reason to keep hold of those precious, printed copies of the OED with word histories in them!

Uber Monday Antidote

It's the first Monday of 2009 - can't you feel it?!
No amount of coffee is going to ease the pain of the first day back at work - no matter how good the aircon is. Rather than dwell on the less pleasant aspects of this, today is a perfect day to do a quick whip around of cool things that happened in 08.

There were plenty of great tech breakthroughs for a greener future. That's nice. Science is always clever, but where's the political will to implement what the scientists learn? Turns out America had a bit of a breakthrough in that regard in 08 with a new President elected and taking office in a couple of weeks who seems very keen to makes some changes. Of course, no offense to B.O., but KR made some promises before he took office that haven't quite panned out ... although kudos to him for starting out on the right foot with a long overdue apology.

Thankfully also a bit of good news for books - that some publishers (mostly of trashy escapism - but hey - whatever floats your boat) are thriving. That's good, I worry for books. All this kindle reader, and iphone crap gets plenty of "the future is paper-free" but books need to survive a while longer yet.

Until we head into space (My solar system or yours?) basically, when they will be way too heavy to earn a place in the hold and those poor colonists will be stuck with reading from monitors or possibly, if they're lucky some groovy type of thin and flexible "electronic paper" which the kids of the future will totally laugh their guts up at how we had to give it such a daggy and derivative name.

Some good things got done by activists in Australia. And there was a little bit of vindication for people like me who don't feel the need to breed. Sci-fi nerds who got another half season of Battlestar Galactica. Oh and a fully kick-arse Batman film.

There was loads more of good stuff in 08, please feel encouraged to add your favourite via the comments.

You don't know what you don't know (thank you Captain Obvious!)

The world is an interesting place if only for the powerful, invisible powers that inhabit it. I'm not talking here about magnetic flux, or light being both a wave and a stream of particles, or gravity and their ilk - fascinating though they may be. No, I am talking about odd coincidences, the power of synchronicity as Jung described the "acausal connecting principle". I would love to know if there's a word for when the acausal connecting principle goes non-linear.
Yes, synchronicity is non-linear itself. I get that, but so many times people use the example of thinking of someone you haven't heard of in ages, and then they ring you. That seems pretty directly linked to me. How it happens is the off-the-hook, but the emotional/intellectual connection is direct. Some definitions make a bit more sense "...a colliding of the seen and unseen realities. Within the improbable events there will be layers of hidden meanings that ring true in your innermost being." It sounds more like magic to me.
Anyway, I digress. The story I wanted to share with you today was that almost 2 years to the day, I had a date on the weekend. Yes, two years.
(Strangely, my last date and I went to see the new James Bond film - Casino Royale, and guess what's in the cinemas next weekend for the (still theoretical) second date with the new guy? You guessed it! The new James Bond film - Quantum of Solace!! But that's not even the part!)
So here I am in the heated heart of post-week-one-euphoria (see Week One in Review) and now grasping at plot straws (I have a villain - I just can't seem to get him a big enough and evil enough Dastardly Plan). I am writing and reading crazy at the moment, and I have a date! Excitement overload. I can't wait to share my interests with him.
We rendezvous in a bookstore (reference section) and he says "I never knew this section was here." Not an immediately great sign, but not impossible to recover from. He's good looking, he's turned up, he's keen for a coffee. We proceed. He has manners, entertaining hobbies, a science degree, seems pretty happy to talk to me, likes arthouse movies and oh-yeah is dyslexic.

Dyslexic.

Thanks acausal connecting principle!

So, as I'm writing this story and therefore it's all about me, we can skip all the heartwarming stuff about how he's overcome this difficulty and what tricks he has to manage stuff and so on (bright as a button this chap) and instead dwell for a moment on how I was confronted by an assumption I didn't realise I had. We would not be able to share the pleasure of reading. Something so central to my life that I didn't even see it has no real place in his except as something worked at for a specific purpose.
Huh. Didn't see that coming.

After a while though, I started to see some benefits to the idea. No unwelcome comments about drafts, no fighting over categorisation systems for shelves, no long and pedantic disagreements about etymologies. God, it's sounding brilliant. No bad-mouthing of beloved authors or diminishing of children's books. Just coz I'm in love with spines and folios and fiddling around with pens, why should I assume that I need to always be around others who feel that way?

Apparently, he's a very good cook. Yes, thank you acausal connecting principle, I wouldn't have made this step on my own! Now, as long as he likes playing cards ....

Week One in Review

It was a great idea to come out to Ma&Pa's farm overnight. I wasn't going to, I didn't want to loose all that time driving, and I am no good at saying 'I have to go sit in my room and do other things than talk to you oh beloved parents who raised me and sacrificed that I might succeed in life' but logistical considerations for the rest of the weekend made it the logical solution, so I did. There was a meal together and an evening playing frustration on the new veranda. But in the perfectly non-linear way that the world actually works, this turned out to be relaxing, distracting, fresh and wholesome (in other words an antidote to a week of spitty gossip and petty work concerns). It also had the flow-on benefit that I could not guilt myself into doing chores before I wrote this morning (which I would have done at home). No indeedy. Here there's just the wind and the birds in the trees as much tea and left-over pizza (avocado, mushroom and corn) as I like and lo - I've done over 700 words and am not yet out of my jammies!

Riley doesn't know it yet, but he's staying here until Sunday evening. He needed a break from me, and a bit of dog time in the dirt always replenishes him. For myself, I am aware of how out of shape I am mentally and physically for writing. I have talked *about* it a lot more than doing it this year, and now I suffer for it. My wrist, forearm and elbow are sore. My mind is stiff, and my eyes are acting up (one keeps swelling and bruising. Maybe someone is sneaking up on me while I sleep and poking one eye with my thumb and laughing maniacally "that's for being you!! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!) because I cannot think of any other explanation for this phenomena. Which simply demonstrates even further how out of creative fitness my mind is. Lazy and slow - too many pizzas and movies.

So, my week one word tally is 5 980. That's pretty good for an addled tryhard wannabe I reckon. Not great, not brilliant, but a fair effort. Shows potential, but plenty of scope for improvement. What I'm really happy about is that I don't feel bored. I can't believe how much fun this is! I still haven't got my characters off the fracking boat! WTF?! But I will dag-nammit! What's more, I'll get them off that boat and I'll get them into trouble, trouble they can not believe has rained down on their arses, and then I will twist that mother fucking plot on them! Oh yeah! and they will be in agony and things will be fucked up bad, man. Baaaaaad. And it will totally rock when, like a gentle ray of light from the high heavens, the characters think of a way to fight back, and they unravel the twist and they untrouble the shit and they fight the power. That is something I am excited about seeing, oh yes, and I have no fracking idea how the hell any of that is going to happen, or if it will be readable when the dust settles, but I don't care. We're in it together. If I keep writing, they'll keep doing and eventually, we'll have this adventure, or die trying.

You know, not die die, but just, maybe, well ....fail. But that's not the game plan! No, we're in it to save the Empire! (Questions about the value and validity of the empire can please be reserved for further projects on this theme should they eventuate).

Time to get out of the jammies.

What plot?

So lost the plot.
What book? Who am I? Where did I put that cup of coffee? What do you mean I have to report on that project at a meeting? My characters are stuck on a ship in the North Atlantic and you want me to concentrate on costings for a mailout and web updates?!
I'm shaking and I'm nauseous.
Forgeddit.

In other news - Well Done Obama!! Good work America!! Yay generally!! WOOT for HOPE!!

(ps. WTF is with not letting exclamation marks be in tabs? Get a grip people!)

(pps. Word count at 4300 and stalled)

Meet Edwina

As usual the decision to write today made me strangely motivated and productive in doing all sorts of household chores that I would normally be happy to allow to go begging for months on end. However I have managed so far to have two sessions (utilising the best writing tool ever - the egg timer) of half hour and one hour and produced about a 1000 words. It's a humble start, but a start nonetheless. I say "about" because I've started longhand and so the word count is manual. I am going to find someone to type it up for me... perhaps I can pay piece wages to my niece who always needs cash now to support her SMS habit. Addicts are so easy to exploit!

The weather is not co-operating either. It was 35degrees today. Days like this I think what a good idea it would be to put a big shade sail above my entire house. I've checked that Sis will be home tomorrow, I'm not risking another day like that without being near a pool! That's the good thing about taking the project longhand, I could write anywhere. Note the use of 'could'. We shall see. I am looking forward to getting to know my character more. I think she may turn out to be a bit of a spunk. Can we still say that and be understood? Edwina, Lady Kenthurst is pretty spunky in a librarian-meets-Lara-Croft-mid 1800s kind of way, but right now she's stuck on a train with two horrible bores and I need to get her to safety.
Pip pip!

Outside in the Morning

The air this morning was deliciously sweet. I wanted to drink swimming pools of it. The sky seemed as deep as the ocean and blue like a bird's heart all the way through.
All the crows flew to one big tree and spent 5 minutes loudly cawing over each other - scrabbling to prove their points before dispersing in gossiping gangs.

Maths in Music

Last night was a chance to see the amazing Grant Collins in performance (at the Ipswich Civic Hall). It has been waaaaaaaaaaaayy too long since I was exposed to something so challenging and beautiful at the same time. I only wish that I could have been more rested and so able to keep up with the mathematical and physical gymnastics this charming musician performs - all with a gorgeous sense of humour. I'm so grateful for the chance to see someone that cool in this town.

Hilariously enough, I took my seven year old niece (Kirra) who loves music and is pretty much hyperactive. It was her first concert, and she loved it. From the support act (who were brilliant) (The Gap High School percussion ensemble) who had jammed 4 full size glockenspiels/xylophones into the foyer along with a normal kit, a whole bunch of tom toms a base drum and various bells and stuff. They played some thilling contemporary stuff (ever heard a glockenspiel played with a bow? Haunting.) and something that sounded very ritualistic (an interpretation of something - I couldn't quite hear the bandmaster). Kirra said "It sounds like a movie" and I think that's the highest praise she has in her current paradigm.

A bit of Rain

Oh what a miracle!
Water falls from the sky - freely
unwalled
unmeasured
untimed!

There's precious water sloshing
onto us, onto the ground
wasted on the bitumen
washing away the dust

Water wallowing
pooling and soaking

Oh it's a miracle!

Warm Hearts

It's truly autumn here in Sydney. The trees have turned and the days are cold. When the sun is hidden by cloud the guts fall out of the day. The evenings set their chill well before the light has gone, but I am just not feeling it. There's been so much love and laughter since I arrived that I am still in a bubble.

Last night was a great catch-up in what felt like a private bar (oh *yeah* it's monday!) and L&A have opened their home to me yet again (it feels like home here) and then a long leisurely brunch with perfect eggs and perfect company in the person of the eternally effervescent Mellie down at Coogee. Footballing superstars stolling past our cafe were just wallpaper to a beautiful couple of hours.  The ocean was flat, still and clear in a weird silence, but blue! Blue like your heart has sung it into being!

So it's just 3 hours now until the big NG event starts. 
I'm going to go into lockdown and reach for something simple and clear. 
Yes, simple and clear. Less is more. 
Yes indeedy, no need for showboating, this is all about warm hearts.

Conversation

Having had a chance now to check both sides of the spectrum, I can confidently assert that good conversation is one of the greatest pleasures of the human condition. Not *the* greatest, obviously, but certainly in the top 10. Also, it has great longevity. Dancing vigorously, sex, winning races or tussles, child birth, these are a young person's game. Chess/Go, conversation, these kinds of pleasures of the mind last and last and last. As long as the mind does.
Apart from passing on one's genes, this is the source of the other immortality, to pass on a taste of the mind. Don't believe me? Think of an inspiring quote - there's your own proof - pretty unlikely you quoted your mum, or anyone else you've ever met for that matter.

It's not just about talking either, there's a big space for listening in the world. What a gift - to be heard.

Feel like a challenge? Give a good listen to someone today.

Leaps and Bounds

How was your leap day?
Anything special?

I love these arbitrary excuses to draw attention to a normal thing. As long as we believe in the reason we've made up, it is entirely 
possible to enjoy them afresh. 
That seems to be one of those hidden secrets to life - to take each 
day, no matter how normal, 
as a fresh day, a new day of all promise and hope for all of humanity.
My heart's not always up to the strain of that much hope, but I am
planning that I shall
metamorphose into someone who can hope without strain.
In that future I will gladly awake each morning and embody this
wonderful approach to life's heartbeat.

Mattering Matters

How cool is it when someone, from pretty much out of nowhere, plops it into conversation that they're just stoked to hear from you, and that what you're doing matters to them just because it's *you*?!!?

I know that's a lot of exclamation marks, but it just feels good. You know, warm in the cold places and a little tingly around the mouth.

Mattering to someone else is a great feeling. It makes a big difference about facing all those humdrum hurdles in a day. It's also - strangely - easy to forget how much we do matter to people who know us, who love us, who watch us but may not ever say it. Why are human beings built in with such a sense of taking-for-grantedness? I'm sure there's a word somewhere for this part of human nature (if you know it, or would like to suggest one, please post!) or even a word for just getting bogged up with the crap we have to wade through (day job anybody) and lose sight of all the yummy things. Leading of course to that other dreaded scourge, the tacky chain mail letter....

I digress.

Back on message, back on message. Oh Yeah.
Mattering Matters.
Ask any quantum physicist.

Touching Base

Ma often used to say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all" and it got to be ingrained. That's not a handy habit for a writer. Life's going on all around, but I don't want to seem like a whinger, so the habit is to clam it up. Swallow it down and get on with going through the motions.

Ma does it herself - a phone call will run out of steam, and she'll say "well, there's nothing else to report" as though we're talking just to entertain me. This last month or so, I've been doing that to myself. Not talking just to be in touch and shoot the breeze, no, it's been a bit "nothing to report" as though there has to be something newsworthy going on in order to say - hey - what's good for dinner? or how funny is it that Dumbledore's meant to be gay? Or, man, I am bored! It's tough to heal the breach when you're not talking to yourself. There's no-one to be the go-between.

The thing I like about this time of year is that there's a push to be in touch *anyway*. If you're into the G-d thing one way or the other, or summer solstice, or just the end of the year (please, please, let the next one bring the good stuff!!) you can just send a message saying "I'm thinking about you, and wishing nice things into your life" and I think that's just brilliant.

So this morning I feel like I'm back talking to myself, and we're patching things up. She's given me some chocolate and said sorry, and I've promised not to shut her out and pretend like nothing's happening. Yeah, it's getting better. Our world seemed to shrink a lot this year and that's quite a weird experience. I think we've passed through the worst of the transition now, and starting to find a way to inject a bit more imagination and humour into things without resorting to outright denial and escapism will be good. (Note future tense there - still learning!)

Anyway, from us and Riley to you and yours, for no reason at all, have a great weekend!

Innocent Fantasies

This morning was a lot like yesterday morning. You know how the work week goes. Alarm clock, stiff knees, bored with breakfast, briefly ponder clothes and pull on almost exactly the same thing again.
But I got a gorgeous phone message from Mez, that she's been daydreaming that we were hanging out together today with her new puppy instead of us both going to work in separate cities. As soon as I read it, I joined in, and imagined us baking something for afternoon tea and maybe I could finally teach her that double handed patience card game. I don't know why I still teach people how to play it - I nearly always loose. I guess it's like Scrabble - I like playing it because it's a good excuse to spend time together and keep the hands busy while joking and laughing and story telling can go on.
Such innocent fantasies. How lovely to know that there's still a source of enjoyment and pleasure to be had that doesn't need a copyright permission or is sullied by a badly made movie spin-off console game. It would be better, of course, to wag work today and be teleported to your lounge room and have a laugh, but there you go. In a moment of personal revelation to you, I confide that I have these innocent fantasies much more often than any other kind.

My favourite one lately, from about 2 weeks ago, was a fully-fledged dream. I was in New York promoting the new book, and Neil Gaiman had a night free in his schedule, so we met at a family restaurant he knows and had dinner. It was good to catch up and the food was well made. Afterwards, we said goodbye on the pavement and he walked back to his friends' place and I caught a cab to the hotel. It was good to see him so relaxed.