Tag Archives: Life

Daily Prompt: Say Your Name

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I was named after a hippie chick called Alley Cat. Slick chick, cool cat, teenage runaway. She slipped out of sight long ago, but will never be forgotten. I don’t answer to the nickname Alley, but use half a dozen other diminutives. Quick change artist: just like my namesake. That’s all you need to know.

From the Daily Prompt: Write about your first name: Are you named after someone or something? Are there any stories or associations attached to it? If you had the choice, would you rename yourself?

Daily Diversion #132: Time Spent By Myself, Alone, in a Chair

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If you need me today, I’ll be in this chair: legs thrown over the side, disheveled, peaceful. Reading, sipping tea, staring out open windows. Living life with the timer off. Collecting quotes, not thinking, blissfully unaware. Ruffling doggie ears, painting my toe nails, napping. Tomorrow, I’ll be back. Ready to jump into the fray. But that is in the future and today, today, is about the now.

A great place for solitude

A great place for solitude.

  • “Literature is the most agreeable way of ignoring life.”-Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet
  • In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occasion.”-Albert Camus, The Minotaur
  • “If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.”-Jean-Paul Sartre

Thank you to the lovely Vickie Lester, for reminding me that I do not need permission or justification for taking some alone time.

Some Thoughts on Being Away and Getting Back on Track

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  • It’s been nice writing post titles that do not contain the words goblins or Internet.
  • It takes days to go through more than a thousand e-mails.
  • Writing is, as I’ve known since the age of 6, nearly as important to me as breathing.
  • However, there is more to life than filling up blank page upon blank page. It’s important to enjoy the concrete pleasures of the real world on a steady basis.
  • The active spaces between writing are actually what makes writing possible in the first place. It is where perspective originates.
  • I cannot stop thinking like a writer. It is how I view the world, how I filter my experiences, how I am wired.
  • Writing is both a compulsion and a privilege.
  • There are few things in this world greater than an unchecked, wanton reading spree.
  • Writing keeps my life organized.
  • Writing abets my sanity.
  • I have a lot of catching up to do, both on here and with my freelance work.
  • My sense of purpose has been renewed.
  • I have the best readers in the world.
Nancy Carroll agrees that it's wonderful to be back, darlings!

Nancy Carroll agrees that it’s wonderful to be back, darlings!

 

[Book Nerd Links] F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Handwritten Ledger…

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…is a fascinating and priceless literary and cultural treasure. Filling the years 1919-1938, it is a neat autobiography of his (and Zelda’s) professional output and earnings. The whole thing is now available on-line. Go there, go there now! It is a first-class time-waster worth every second.

F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Ledger [courtesy University of South Carolina]

His handwriting is elegantly divine.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, 1921

F. Scott Fitzgerald, meticulous record-keeper, in 1921.

Internet Goblins 3, Maedez 0

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A very nice technician was able to restore our cable feed, but the goblins foiled his many heroic efforts to fix our  Internet problem. The prognosis? It should be up and running by Monday afternoon. I could cry. I am going to drown my sorrows in the sweet satisfactions of a UK Kit Kat bar and a few pages of Shaw.

Internet Goblins: Update

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The Internet Goblins still have the upper hand, but not for long: everything will be fixed on Friday. I cannot wait to wholeheartedly re-join the WordPress community with deeper quality content than what I’ve been able to post these last few days. Thanks for hanging in there, dear readers. You are the  best!

This is how I feel after 5 days without Internet access.

Brenda Starr, March 1947

Brenda Starr, March 1947

Daily Diversion #120: Internet Goblins, My Adorable Dog, and a Sad Looking Tree

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Those pesky Internet-stealing Goblins struck again last night. Since I can only write so many sentences with ease on my phone, all of the lovely posts I had planned for today (and possibly tomorrow) are temporarily on hold. Here are a couple of random photos to tide you over.

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Daily Diversion #116: “Nature” is What We See*

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Whenever I hike through the 733 acres of our local cemetery, I have to stifle the compulsion to declaim poetry to an audience of tombstones, trees, and birds. Instead, I turn the words inward, or whisper them under my breath. The shadow-poets I prefer change with the seasons. If winter’s sharp, cold, stinging reach is perfect for Sylvia Plath, then the gloriously still warmth of spring is the natural home for the distilled, profound and subtle Emily Dickinson.

Two graves and wildflowers

Two forlorn graves and clumps of wildflowers are the perfect audience for Emily’s poems.

*“Nature” is what we see” is the opening line from an Emily Dickinson poem.