I think I pretty much sidestepped St. Patrick's Day this year. I just didn't feel quite up to all the drunken green foolishness of shamrocks and Guinness and leprechauns. I hung my Irish flag on the front porch, listened to Rum Sodomy & the Lash, and then went on about my day.
I'm sorry if this entry seems a little off kilter. A sort of a ghost came to me by e-mail this morning, and my head's mostly somewhere else and somewhen else at the moment. Lea, if you should be reading this, I got the message, and I'll reply soon, I promise.
What else about yesterday? Spooky and I took a walk through Freedom Park and an adjoining neighborhood. Everything is greening. Every year, winter drags my mind to the edge of the pit, and every year these colours of spring drag it back again. It's like my soul's tide (if I believed in souls). I stand between summer and winter, pulled this way and that. It was a wide swing this year. Anyway, the walk was good. There was the familiar joke about mockingbirds being the iPods of the avian world. Out there beneath the spring sky, I wanted to run and scream and roll in the weeds, but I didn't. We found this weird plastic eyeball thing in the grass. Later, on the way to the movie, we spotted an enormous raptor of some sort, something I wasn't able to ID, soaring low over the treetops. There are an amazing number of predatory birds in this part of Atlanta, what with all the parks and the Fernbank nature area so near. We get lots of owls and hawks. After the movie, we grabbed a quick, late dinner from the hot bar at Whole Foods, then headed home. I spent the evening with Wikipedia, writing an entry for the nodosaurid ankylosaurs Silvisaurus and Pawpawsaurus. Then we watched the first two eps of the new Dr. Who on the skiffy channel. I adore Christopher Eccleston, ever since Revenger's Tragedy (2002), if not before. I think I like the new series. There's something nicely 'scapey about it, and, well, there's Christopher Eccleston. That moment in the first ep, when whatzername keeps asking him who he is, and he tells her how he can feel the Earth racing through space and that's who he is, that was particularly nice.
Today, I will make my best effort to finish the new vignette. Also, I've promised Bill at subpress that I'd get the illos. for the "Night" chapbook done this week. So I've got that, as well.
Spooky picked up Nick Cave and Warren Ellis' soundtrack to The Proposition the other day, but I've not had a chance to hear it yet. And speaking of music, They Might Be Giants will be performing at The Variety Playhouse on May 3rd, which makes me somewhat happy.
After talking with my agent again, I've decided that I won't be taking down the Amazon plog, I just won't be posting anything more than occasional news and updates to it. Nothing I'll ever care if they use for their own devices. As for MySpace, yesterday was the last entry I'll be mirroring there, again largely because of their truly unreasonable TOS. I'll leave up what's already up. Taking it down wouldn't benefit me from a copyright standpoint. And if you ask, I'll still friend you. I'll drop by now and then, to get my fill of bad photos of drunken teenagers and those garish, animated ads ("Kiss Brad Pitt and Win a New Toilet Plunger!!!!"). But I'm pulling my tendrils in again. LJ and Blogger are enough for me.
My passport just expired, which is mostly significant because it's my only form of photo ID. I don't drive, being blind in my left eye and all, so I don't have a driver's license. I don't have one of those non-driver ID things, either. The passport's it. I have the urge not to have it renewed. It's not a very practical urge, as I do on occasion need some laminated scrap of paper to prove to someone that I am in fact me. I need it, I just don't want it anymore. Perhaps it's a part of the whole chimera/parahuman thing, or perhaps it's just another way I feel I could distance myself even further from Bush's America. Having to hold some piece of paper or plastic to prove your identity has never set well with me. My identity changes too often, and it's really no one's business but my own.
Okay. The platypus grows impatient. Please have a look at the eBay auctions. The gas company won't take fairie gold, either. Especially, have a look at the "choose your own letter" Frog Toes and Tentacles auction. I want to see a bidding war, people. Spooky and I make these cozy's by hand, by the sweat of our brows and the pricking of our fingers and all that dren. Thank you.
I'm sorry if this entry seems a little off kilter. A sort of a ghost came to me by e-mail this morning, and my head's mostly somewhere else and somewhen else at the moment. Lea, if you should be reading this, I got the message, and I'll reply soon, I promise.
What else about yesterday? Spooky and I took a walk through Freedom Park and an adjoining neighborhood. Everything is greening. Every year, winter drags my mind to the edge of the pit, and every year these colours of spring drag it back again. It's like my soul's tide (if I believed in souls). I stand between summer and winter, pulled this way and that. It was a wide swing this year. Anyway, the walk was good. There was the familiar joke about mockingbirds being the iPods of the avian world. Out there beneath the spring sky, I wanted to run and scream and roll in the weeds, but I didn't. We found this weird plastic eyeball thing in the grass. Later, on the way to the movie, we spotted an enormous raptor of some sort, something I wasn't able to ID, soaring low over the treetops. There are an amazing number of predatory birds in this part of Atlanta, what with all the parks and the Fernbank nature area so near. We get lots of owls and hawks. After the movie, we grabbed a quick, late dinner from the hot bar at Whole Foods, then headed home. I spent the evening with Wikipedia, writing an entry for the nodosaurid ankylosaurs Silvisaurus and Pawpawsaurus. Then we watched the first two eps of the new Dr. Who on the skiffy channel. I adore Christopher Eccleston, ever since Revenger's Tragedy (2002), if not before. I think I like the new series. There's something nicely 'scapey about it, and, well, there's Christopher Eccleston. That moment in the first ep, when whatzername keeps asking him who he is, and he tells her how he can feel the Earth racing through space and that's who he is, that was particularly nice.
Today, I will make my best effort to finish the new vignette. Also, I've promised Bill at subpress that I'd get the illos. for the "Night" chapbook done this week. So I've got that, as well.
Spooky picked up Nick Cave and Warren Ellis' soundtrack to The Proposition the other day, but I've not had a chance to hear it yet. And speaking of music, They Might Be Giants will be performing at The Variety Playhouse on May 3rd, which makes me somewhat happy.
After talking with my agent again, I've decided that I won't be taking down the Amazon plog, I just won't be posting anything more than occasional news and updates to it. Nothing I'll ever care if they use for their own devices. As for MySpace, yesterday was the last entry I'll be mirroring there, again largely because of their truly unreasonable TOS. I'll leave up what's already up. Taking it down wouldn't benefit me from a copyright standpoint. And if you ask, I'll still friend you. I'll drop by now and then, to get my fill of bad photos of drunken teenagers and those garish, animated ads ("Kiss Brad Pitt and Win a New Toilet Plunger!!!!"). But I'm pulling my tendrils in again. LJ and Blogger are enough for me.
My passport just expired, which is mostly significant because it's my only form of photo ID. I don't drive, being blind in my left eye and all, so I don't have a driver's license. I don't have one of those non-driver ID things, either. The passport's it. I have the urge not to have it renewed. It's not a very practical urge, as I do on occasion need some laminated scrap of paper to prove to someone that I am in fact me. I need it, I just don't want it anymore. Perhaps it's a part of the whole chimera/parahuman thing, or perhaps it's just another way I feel I could distance myself even further from Bush's America. Having to hold some piece of paper or plastic to prove your identity has never set well with me. My identity changes too often, and it's really no one's business but my own.
Okay. The platypus grows impatient. Please have a look at the eBay auctions. The gas company won't take fairie gold, either. Especially, have a look at the "choose your own letter" Frog Toes and Tentacles auction. I want to see a bidding war, people. Spooky and I make these cozy's by hand, by the sweat of our brows and the pricking of our fingers and all that dren. Thank you.