Today my mind feels fragmented with the ideas of modernist literature (trying to define and analyse it is beginning to feel awkward and my understanding of Gertrude Stein is further slipping from my grasp). But I also feel quite inspired. This week I have brainstormed, written poetry and created entirely new characters in my Creative Writing class (a module I am minoring in this semester). It feels good to be writing again, despite becoming increasingly aware of my tendency to walk and talk like an overgrown cliché. It negates any natural, quirky traits of a personality and lends a sort of vulnerable, emaciated persona; they are borrowed from every other person in the world. Perhaps this is something I will learn to tease out of my unconscious.
In the meantime it is Friday and here are a few new finds.
A delightful interview with Regina Spektor.
Which universities writers went to.
This week I bought a very similar necklace to this.
What every gadget needs, a Moleskine.
And the new Nobel Prize winner has been announced.
This weekend I am heading out to a book-signing, relaxing, baking biscuits and hopefully, just hopefully, squeezing in some attempts at my sketchbook. Hopefully this will involve some writing and a few more trips around the village with Diana. I haven't taken her out in a while and, quite frankly, I miss her. Hopefully learning to operate a dark room next week will unite us again and, more than likely, give room to some experiments (and catastrophes) with colour.