Shit. My net connection suddenly got flaky. This cable modem -- I dunno. It's gorgeous when it works, but periodically it just cuts out for no good reason. I can always dial-in as a backup, but I got the cable modem so I wouldn't have to worry about dialing in.
And now it's back. Oddness.
I came back tired from the con last night, but managed to not turn on the tv. Turning on the tv really needs to not be my default action when I'm tired. I put on some CD's and made tea and started reading instead; within five minutes I was nicely settled into work mode. Loreena McKennitt's Book of Secrets now works as a pretty effective conditioned response; I've worked to it so often that my brain now tends to slide into work mode when I put it on. I think the other two CD's in there are Enya's Watermark (great sex music, btw), and The Chieftains's The Long Black Veil. Good stuff.
I caught up on my reading that I was behind on for class, and then started working on the piece I have due in narrative theory. I'm feeling some pressure to do a good job on this one, since there's no final exam in the class -- the two pieces we do are the sole criteria he has for evaluating us. Not that it's a very grade-focused class in any case, but still. You want to impress the teacher, after all. Heh. I might talk about it more, but since Francois may well be reading this journal occasionally now, I'd best not. (At some point, I wonder if I'll have to stop this journal, just because it's gotten so bland and workaday. I am very aware that the world is (potentially) watching. It changes so many things, when you have to assume that everyone you know or may know in the future will read this. Ah well -- hopefully, you're still interested. I haven't heard from any of you in a while, actually, now that I think about it. Anyone still reading?) We're reading Barthes's Camera Lucida right now, which I just love. It's a beautiful book, and one that I think you can enjoy even if you haven't read any semiotic or narrative theory. He takes exactly as much space as he needs to say what he needs to say, and not one word more -- I admire that. At the same time, he's elegant, lyrical, and often funny. Good book.
What I'm working on is a collage piece. Photos of Karina, fragments of poems, entire poems, and some sort of narrative. I laid out the photos and poetry in Quark last night (was going to do it in PageMaker, but couldn't remember how to import pictures there; when I tried to use the Place command for that, it froze the computer), printed out the five sheets, and made notes for the narrative sections. I'll try to write those at some point today. I'd like to get feedback from the readers' list, but I'm not sure how -- I could just send the Quark files, but I don't think most of them will be able to read them. Hmmm...
Really not feeling so good. I think I'm going to curl up with Barthes for a bit, then revise that review for Chris. (And once I finish this one, I'm not going to promise another review to SH for months, months I tell you!) The other tasks for today are pretty mellow -- hmm...surely I must have more to do? Aren't I supposed to be in a panicked frenzy? Something's wrong...
11:30. Finished the revision of the review (now to see if the reviews department thinks it's finished :-). Cleaned up my laundry closet (which included hanging a mirror on the wall, draping it with jewelry, and taking a huge blue scarf and draping it over the slanted ceiling of the closet, so that it looks like a sail. I'm feeling intense urges to make pretty things these days; no clue why. Hopefully, this too shall pass). Read some more Gloss. Putzed around doing random bits and bobs for SH. Read a really clear explanation of artists and micropayments, in comic form. :-) Planning on doing some dishes now, and then making a nice big pot of chicken and potato curry. I like Sundays.
Image NotebookSunlight flooding through the window
bathes the plants in gold heat
and I want to be naked under it
turning pale green leaves outwards
drinking in water through roots and toes