I’ve been having a little think.
I’m becoming slightly wary about The Escritorium turning into an online diary.
The bipolar awareness front is the mission of this blog so there will always be some crossover between life and strife. At any rate, bipolar is the reason this blog began. Poetry seems to be doing fine too, in fact, people quite like it. I’m also really thankful for the supportive messages on the Tuesday post. 🙂
Salut aussi.I have gained quite a few French speaking followers lately, bienvenue chez moi, je vous en prie…
I’m just not sure my life is all that interesting. I would like to be useful and entertaining, but Thursdays are flat. Lately I’m looking into things like Zumba and Spanish conversation, theatre work and possibly writing from home or over Christmas. I have started my daily walks and floor workouts again due to the unfortunate fact of retaining some cake weight. By next week I’ll try doing bits of jogging to build myself up. I sometimes feel a bit of a numpty though, but I like knowing I can rely on my body in that way.
Second, blog “diversifying” hasn’t worked in terms of serialising short stories or my ancient flash-fiction… which leads me to doubt myself and what I should write about.
Lately in the conquest of the tidy bedroom I have unearthed all my shoes from their sacque magique to do an inventory and I have… 13 pairs. Shocking for someone who only has two feet. Some Swedish storage solution must be invoked! That is the next project/excuse to put on accents in Ikea. *ahem*.
Such rebels can only be dealt with one way: put them on the rack!
I also had coffee with TBG recently, who mentioned that she hasn’t been mentioned on here for quite a while. She is currently having adventures with apertures, contemplating Christmas, wearing gold shoes (about which we had a lengthy and admiring discussion) and reading The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf (about which/whom we had a lengthy and admiring discussion.)
I read her as an Undergrad, but if anyone has got any fiction recommendations I’d welcome them. I’m getting itchy reading feet again, if that’s possible.
Otherwise I’ll just head for Angela Carter’s autobiography.
~ Pola ~