The Pace of Writing

It was a nice, relaxing Sunday. Helena had the kids all day, so I got a bit of writing done in the morning, watered the plants, and went for a lovely walk along the river.
It’s spring, no doubt about it, we’ve entered that lovely time of year when every day you can see changes in the wildlife, the buds are a little more open, a greater variety of the trees have them, daisy’s have started to poke through the lawn. However, two steps forward, one back. There were a couple of days this week when the sun was actually shining and it felt like spring. Come the weekend, cloudyand gray again. And cold.
Got a poem written on the walk, well, started anyway. Started writing it down, it was inspired by a facebook post of a street musician, and the guy was totally brilliant but people just kept walking by, and I compared it to how we walk at night under stars but seldom stop to look up and say ‘Wow, how amazing, how literally brilliant’ because it’s so mundane, it’s a sight we see every day, and awesome is not enough to get people to look because people are kind of dull that way. Pearls before swine, in other words.
Got home, mostly had it worked out, but the ending wasn’t quite coming so I took a nap and woke up with it about 45 minutes later.
When concentration isn’t working, relax. When relaxing isn’t working, concentrate.


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