The luminous stain on page 67-
May. 10th, 2019 04:41 pm-contained traces of quince, rose, grains of paradise, ambergris, pearl, cinnamon, and what could only be surmised.
Tired day today. Much of last week was tired -- leadenly -- because of inability to sleep; today was tired -- pleasantly and productively, for the most part -- because of beginning to read some of![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sovay's journal archive around ten o'clock at night, and being directed by that into the writing of Anna Tambour, which is a singularity and I don't know why it let me out again. Possibly I am no longer me, but only one of the puppets of sentences like the one at the head of this post (which is from Crandolin, a book I now own, although I can't tell you yet whether that's a good thing).
Anyway, I got up at six thirty this morning, which seemed like a terrible idea at the time, to go to a lecture on parasites and disease. It was not a terrible idea. We have a good lecturer at the moment, although it's obvious he'd rather be talking about pumas than anything else at any given time, and that even talking about pumas is an inadequate stand-in for being out in the wild tracking pumas by GPS. Wolves are good too, at a pinch; he spent twice as long on the case study about wolf mange than on any of the others, although we asked enough interested questions about bison and myxomatosis to even them out (and keep him a good half-hour behind schedule). The class has warmed up since he started taking it, and become all back-and-forth with questions.
(Also on the subject of disease: in Pandemic Legacy, we have reached April. Oh, this is such a good game. I can think of some really difficult things which might happen next, and I rather hope some of them do).
Between tired last week (Charlotte and I will move into a house where we can sleep in separate rooms sometime within a year, looks to be the plan) and tired today (problems are more fun when you compound them) there was a very pleasant non-tired period (resuming tomorrow, with luck). I've been reading A.S. Byatt, and possibly because of that or possibly because of the same energy which permitted it, have been very aware of random pieces of the world, a cupped vine leaf going brown irregularly around one edge; Autumn generally; and everything about a spot by the harbour I'd never noticed before where a flight of concrete steps goes down into the water, just where the artificial marshland overflows into the sea. Changing drizzle of water, the sun and its low reflection both too bright to look at, droplets with rainbows in them falling regularly, just out of sync with each other, from two little low-points of waterweed on the wall, three or four other kinds of waterweed making one interesting pattern and lightlines from the water making another on top of them, the sea breathing in and out between wall and steps, mussels just under the surface... I was late to the Pandemic Legacy session that evening, because when I was tired of standing there I sat down, and when I was tired of sitting there I lay down, and when I thought I was ready to go I got up and remembered how pleasant standing there was...
Also, revising the story which (bounce!) Elizabeth and Leaflemming have accepted for their anthology. This is being fun. Last week, when I looked at the story, I was too tired to see it as improvable. This week -- well, look at that, it improved.
Tired day today. Much of last week was tired -- leadenly -- because of inability to sleep; today was tired -- pleasantly and productively, for the most part -- because of beginning to read some of
sovay's journal archive around ten o'clock at night, and being directed by that into the writing of Anna Tambour, which is a singularity and I don't know why it let me out again. Possibly I am no longer me, but only one of the puppets of sentences like the one at the head of this post (which is from Crandolin, a book I now own, although I can't tell you yet whether that's a good thing). Anyway, I got up at six thirty this morning, which seemed like a terrible idea at the time, to go to a lecture on parasites and disease. It was not a terrible idea. We have a good lecturer at the moment, although it's obvious he'd rather be talking about pumas than anything else at any given time, and that even talking about pumas is an inadequate stand-in for being out in the wild tracking pumas by GPS. Wolves are good too, at a pinch; he spent twice as long on the case study about wolf mange than on any of the others, although we asked enough interested questions about bison and myxomatosis to even them out (and keep him a good half-hour behind schedule). The class has warmed up since he started taking it, and become all back-and-forth with questions.
(Also on the subject of disease: in Pandemic Legacy, we have reached April. Oh, this is such a good game. I can think of some really difficult things which might happen next, and I rather hope some of them do).
Between tired last week (Charlotte and I will move into a house where we can sleep in separate rooms sometime within a year, looks to be the plan) and tired today (problems are more fun when you compound them) there was a very pleasant non-tired period (resuming tomorrow, with luck). I've been reading A.S. Byatt, and possibly because of that or possibly because of the same energy which permitted it, have been very aware of random pieces of the world, a cupped vine leaf going brown irregularly around one edge; Autumn generally; and everything about a spot by the harbour I'd never noticed before where a flight of concrete steps goes down into the water, just where the artificial marshland overflows into the sea. Changing drizzle of water, the sun and its low reflection both too bright to look at, droplets with rainbows in them falling regularly, just out of sync with each other, from two little low-points of waterweed on the wall, three or four other kinds of waterweed making one interesting pattern and lightlines from the water making another on top of them, the sea breathing in and out between wall and steps, mussels just under the surface... I was late to the Pandemic Legacy session that evening, because when I was tired of standing there I sat down, and when I was tired of sitting there I lay down, and when I thought I was ready to go I got up and remembered how pleasant standing there was...
Also, revising the story which (bounce!) Elizabeth and Leaflemming have accepted for their anthology. This is being fun. Last week, when I looked at the story, I was too tired to see it as improvable. This week -- well, look at that, it improved.
