The regenerative power of creativity...

I had a great day yesterday.

The start was a bit wobbly - I managed a reiki self-healing before Ath was up and on the computer playing some of the vast library of sounds he's downloaded since I got MY (note that; MY) new computer... (is it men and male children in particular that have the compulsion to colonise - or am I just a jaded single mother?) To be fair, that wasn't an issue yesterday - he's managed to get Lowell George for me, I've been after that for twenty-odd years, and figured how to get it into my files from his. And yesterday I was in a hurry to get the the media arts centre. I'd hoped to walk - but it was a wet day, and I had tremendous sweats, so I had to have a quick sluice to be fit for 'public consumption'. No time to wash my hair - it would still be sopping wet for the filming.

With the music on, missed Crysse's text and call - so missed synchronisation, and was a bit late. Over coffee to liven us all up, Howard played us Crysse's 'Onomatopoeia' track which he'd done visuals for last time, and which he's made a funked up sound track for since we last met. It's just brilliant - and it's so energising to work with Howard's enthusiasm. While he got set up in the studio, I had time to jog my memory on my lines (having totally neglected to take on board that I should have learned them again for our session - life at warp speed means not being able to be as conscientious as I'd like, a great deal of the time I racket about like a bagatelle ball... even missed an acupuncture Tuesday - hadn't written it down and so it totally slipped my mind - I swear having a life as well as work makes for far more chaos than we ascribe to full-on addicts).

Four takes of me standing on a chair not speaking to Crysse's previously filmed head (the two-dimensionality of film is really weird) and we had a reasonable version. At least, it looked OK played back on the camera's built-in screen - proper screen-size, I might change my mind... Christies for coffee (via Raves from the Grave to get me a ticket for Pee Wee Ellis), lunch, a bit of tinkering with poems and trying to squeeze in some new writing.

A lovely few hours, in short. And productive.

I dropped Crysse and decided I was going to go for a stroll through the lanes. Just to see how it felt. By Little Keyford I get a text 'GET A STANDARD' so detour down to the Mount to pick one up.

They printed my review and pics.

One of me and Crysse, and one of Steve. Placed opposite the telly listings - so damn good positioning, too. I'm chuffed to bits.

And as I meander down under the railway bridge across the bypass into the Longleat Estate, it occurs to me perhaps I shouldn't feel I'm not doing enough. Perhaps I should just accept I'm doing what I'm doing, and that it can't necessarily be compared to the efforts of others. It's not measurable, it just is.

It's a beautiful day now. The dark clouds have gone, just cottonwool drifts in blue, and the landscape looks glorious in the Spring sunshine. I feel as if I'm playing hookey - which I am, in a sense; there are so many chores and such a pile of admin awaiting me - but this is sanctioned. I'm allowed to be wandering the Somerset countryside, filling my soul with the joys of freedom and Spring when there's work to be done - it's trek training!

Maybe the lesson I'm supposed to be learning is to junk that ethos; the ethos drummed into me all my life that always, always chores come before anything else - before enjoying being with family, taking care of your health, and certainly before any pleasureable stuff...

Two hours go by. And I'm not too knackered... Time to grab a quick snack, have a quick bath and dive in the car downtown to meet Crysse and Peter in the Granary for Pee Wee’s gig.

Home at the same time as (a very tipsy) Ath. He puts on the music and crashes out. I watch ‘Lost in Space’ for a bit until I get fed up and retire to bed.

Yes, I had a very good day yesterday.