16.20. The sun sets dusty pink over the rooftops opposite, the same sun that lit the trees in the back garden such a brilliant gold a few hours ago and which I stared at for a few minutes thinking: 'That's the kind of light you should appreciate whilst you still can'. Not that I was morbidly contemplating my mortality but just...trying to grasp the 'meaning' of the moment, the sight.
It's been one of those days...when I drift, mentally, feeling fatigued, physically...thinking of watching a film, searching Netflix, which I joined only to watch The Irishman (thoughts on that another day) and discovering, as I have before, that the channel just doesn't supply the kinds of films I enjoy but mostly seems to be so populist that I imagine no serious film buff would ever confess to having even looked.
So half an hour ago I decided that I could draw...at least I could do that. Drawing in my chosen style as seen above is a good way of...relaxing? As William Burroughs said of cut ups, they're something to do, or words to that effect. Talking of drawing and WSB, I posted this on a Burroughs Facebook page and was astounded at how popular it proved to be, proving my inner cynic wrong about how many people would get (or enjoy) the joke...
So it struck me to draw every day for a while once I'd started the one at the top of the page. I'm not one for imposing every day routines on myself although I know that many artists and writers do it as a freeing-up exercise if nothing else. For me, it's simply satisfying to draw and more so when nothing else creative happens.
With the Media Player in shuffle mode Tod Dockstader cropped up a few minutes ago. The UN Climate Change Conference is taking place so the eco-apocalypse-minded amongst you might find this appropriate. Me, I just love Tod Dockstader...
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