Dante Gabriel Rossetti A Vision of Fiammetta

Redheads are wonderful.

This is an exaggeration, but only a little.

From here; http://adam4d.com/young-mother/

It is entirely possible they never cared in the first place, but a middle road is unlikely, certainly.

Here is a list of free web games as listed in Reddit.

http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/1rjox0/reddit_what_is_your_favorite_free_webgame/

Here’s something cute.

Evelyn De Morgan (1855-1919) – Medea (from Wikipedia)

A touch of sublime for your mid week.

Why do poets read their words like this

A sonorous monotone

That kills each word

And leaves it,

lying there, dead on the ground.

And yet,

and yet,

Each word is

A memory,

A key,

A lifeline

To love,

To lives,

Our sorrows,

Our sorries,

Our miseries,

Our loss.

Each words dissipates

On your breath

Like purple

butterfly wings

thinner than the mist at dawn.

She loved you.

You’re fired.

Come home.

Home.

So sing loud, children, sing clear

Each word you make

makes you live,

makes you alive

In the eyes of others,

The yes of others.

So I found myself getting up again this morning, and writing a plot structure of 1600 words out.

A plot structure.

As in, I haven’t even gotten to the thing itself yet.

Still, it is an interesting project. But I think I might, for the moment, just write in the mornings, and try to clean this house now and again. It’s getting a bit insane around here.

Still. I’m writing! Whay!

It’s a new day, children.

I hate having nothing to do. Some people cope quite well with life at a certain pace, but I do not. In fact, I sometimes wonder if the worst thing in the world for me would be to win the Lottery. Life with all the major challenges met (which, you have to admit, would happen if you suddenly had millions) would I think leave me slightly crazy.

“Nooooooooooooooooooooooo! Alright yes.”

I’ve just finished one project, that I enjoyed so much I happily got up early each day to do it. The fact that it’s done, though, leaves me without the mental crutch it had provided. I’ve several other plots I could be working on, but I’m not able to rush into them yet, none of them have gripped me the same way. Plus, I am tired. I feel that while one side of my brain is telling me to rush on to the next project, the other is close to just switching off and sleeping, whether I want it to or not.

So I want to work, but I’m tired, and I need to work, but I don’t. I think what I might to for a bit is read, even; read writers I haven’t had a chance to read for a while, and see what it does to my mind.

Isn’t this Heaven? From metafilter.com

Sooooo… anything you’d recommend? And that goes for Blogs, as well, I’d love to see what’s out there. Have a good weekend!

The sky above my head this morning is a still and padded parasol of clouds with all the autumn colours.

Its silence is tempered by the ice blue wind that blows around my face, my scarf. It promises me that soon, Christmas will be here, bringing back my old friends.

Painting by Heidi Malott