annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- March 27th Day 5 Hello. I really feel as if I'm talking to you now, whoever you are - I know some of you, or feel as if I do, and I'm so glad you're there. I'm editing myself quite a lot, here in Real World so it's a blessed relief to have a place to bang on about whatever. I have lost all sense of time - which is probably a good thing. Be Here Now as they used to say. Today was full of new experiences. (Was it?) I washed the covers off the sofa and had them on the line in no time. That was new, for me and for the sofa covers
Next I did the live writing workshop I mentioned yesterday and managed to get two-way communication on Zoom on my phone, which was a surprise - made me go and put my teeth in - I don't know why I thought that would do - I was in my nightie, with no bra, in bed, live streaming with apparently 70 people. It was great though - so good to be a part of something live, something challenging but fun. There were three sections, where we did some writing then a few people shared. First was grounding ourselves via the senses - write about what you can see, hear, smell, taste and touch, for five minutes. I always take these instructions very literally - the people who read had written beautiful poetic fragments and were very clean and smart, in tidy rooms, but there you go. Next we were invited to describe what we could see through the window, straight ahead, to the left, in the corner, how it used to be, what's missing, what's different, what's beyond our view... I came downstairs for that and wrote about the garden and Sam... The last part was to choose an object from your room and personify it, give it a voice, tell its story. I chose the basket of rope I've collected from the beach and am storing to weave with. I did read this out and I'm going to write it here, to remind me. I realised half way through that I know sweet fuck all about how ropes are used. Here we sit, in a basket, in a house, for fuck's sake, indoors! We've never been indoors since the day we were bought at the ships' chandlers or the fishing shop. Most of us have been used on boats but whatever it was, it was outdoors and wet, out at sea or on the beach being cast out and brought in. Drying up like this isn't good, though She said she was going to make baskets with us and maybe She will. We've got some stories - I reckon between us we've been all round the world, travelled every ocean before being set adrift and washing up on a Sussex beach. I like to work. All this lying dormant, tangled up with other ropes is making me sleepy, making me lose my spirit, my purpose. I should be stretched out, holding things safe, binding them together, not resting, slack and useless in this basket. What's that you say? It's all right for me? What were you doing before? Wrapped around a breakwater from the day you were bought? Wet and dry, over and over as the tide flowed in and flowed back out, winter and summer, year after year. I fell out of the boat on His first day fishing and got snaggled in some wire, been there ever since. Now look at me, all shredded and straggly, cut right off by Her and her knife. She said she was going to make me into a fruit bowl, but I'm still here, still waiting for a proper job. I wrote it very quickly, all in one go in the ten minutes she gave us and it was only when reading it out that I noticed how pertinent some of it was to the current situation. I remember being told ages ago that underlying themes emerge as you are writing rather than being forced in. It was all lovely until some trolls burst across the audio, male youths from the US, using words beginning with N that even I don't use, as well as those I am familiar with, like fuck off you ugly old cunt. They kept coming and going and it was a bit grim. I managed not to tell them sharply to fuck right off in my best teacher voice, as rule one with trolls is not to engage, but it was a shame. I listened to a talk this evening on the same site and that was OK so I hope it was a one off, or they've learned how to block them. Did a bit of drawing in the garden, very quickly in the wind, too agitated to focus much:
Made some courgette, potato and cheese soup, which was marginally less dreary than it sounds, which is just as well as I'll be having it for lunch for the next two days. After that I was done and went back to bed, where I chatted on the phone with friends and with my sister - she's invited me to go up to her horses' field but I don't think I will. We're not meant to be driving about and I am inclined to follow the instructions. I wonder how much the different rates of death and infection between Italy and China are down to the Chinese being more likely to do as they're told than Italians. Not due to any inherent differences, but to the Chinese state being much more authoritarian. I don't know. There are all sorts of conspiracy theories going round. Someone I know thinks its caused by 5g; someone else thinks it's all fake, just to get authoritarian laws brought in here and in the US. A sudden urge to make rock cakes came upon me and I had all the ingredients, so off I went. I've done a lot today but I didn't practise my keyboard or go for a walk. Can I ask about the spelling of the word practise? In UK English there are two spellings which correlate with advise and advice - the s spelling is for the verb, the c is for the noun, although the pronunciation remains constant. But it gets the red line for spelling mistake - do you not differentiate in the US? This is the advice I have been following, from an Italian: QUARANTINE AS AN OPPORTUNITY FOR GROWTH Good night. Keep safe, see you tomorrow xxx 11:30 p.m. - 27.03.20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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