Experiments.

Over the last few days I have been experimenting with Haiku. I'm not sure if the experiment is working well or not. In other words, I'm not quite sure if I am grasping the straws correctly. Here are a couple of the Haiku I have scribbled:

Day the first:

Sleek, black, prowling cat;
Graymalkin - do you come?
Magical Moll-cat.

Day the second:

LCD screen.
Giggles and shrieks of delight;
computer literate.

Day the third:

1.
Glistening white weight;
curvature of lifeless bough
magical winter.

2.
The angry sun
gold and red in cloudless skies.
Beauty - a statement.

I think I like the last two. Oh, but would number 1 work better as:

Magical winter;
dormant boughs bow beneath
glistening white snow.

Oh, maybe that one! Yeah, I think that one sounds much better. Wow, blogging helps me edit. Didn't think that'd happen!

Oh so tired!

Knackered! And for no apparent reason. I think I need to stop reading before I go to bed.

Nothing much has been happening since the birthday celebrations on Sunday. I can't believe Principessa is four already. It feels like only yesterday I was in the horrible delivery room, with Melanie and H for support, hoping it wouldn't take too long for Princi to be born. 17 and a half hours later... Ouch! I'd say cats aren't in labout for that long, but then I didn't give birth to a litter of mewling kittens. Thank god! There would have been something seriously wrong then!

Well, must get to the creative scribbling. I have now been assigned my tutor, and the actual start date of the course is looming (27th Sept). So, the plan for the day is:

• to bash out a few more freewrites
  
• maybe do a few clusters around the TMA prompts
• attempt some 'pen portraits'
• do a couple of haiku

all in the next two hours! Then Princi is back from nursery. So, upanattam!

Of wardrobes and cathedrals.

Today, I took Principessa (with Grandand's help) to the cathedral to see the Prince Caspian 'experience'. The first stop was face-painting. She was really looking forward to that part, and becoming a tiger! Then we had a wander round, and Princi did some little craft-type things. Upon further wandering, Princi wrote a prayer-balloon, and then we sat and watched a little puppet show after we finally found Aslan. The picture doesn't do the Aslan statue justice at all, it was beautifully carved.

I have to say, I was in awe of the cathedral. I've lived most of my life in Liverpool, and today was the first time I have ever stepped foot into the cathedral. It is vast and impressive and imposing all at once. The stained windows are absolutely fantastic. I just wish I had full use of my legs so that I could explore the place fully. It really is breath-taking architecture.

Of essays and choking.

TMA08 results day. I should say yay me, but instead I felt a bit bleurgh me. 84%. Now, I know. 84% is a good mark. But it's still not there for getting the 'top class' results. Yeah, yeah, I said I'd be happy just to pass, but as I have a good mark, what in the hell do I have to do just to push it that 1% further and get that elusive 85% to get a first class rating? Argh! I have only managed it once, on TMA03 (90%), but have not even been hitting close to that since. So, based on that, I think my niche is gladiators. That's not good, is it? There is no gladiators specific course! I think I may have to work very, very hard to get what I want from the creative writing course, when it does actually matter what esults I get. Ho hum.

Unfortunately, procrastination beckons now that I can once again get onto the forum. Yay! But I shall control myself (yeah, as if!) and read some more of the course book and do some writing (daily haiku is not my friend at the moment, just can't get into it). And the writing thing is making me consider a wordpress blog even more, as I could put some of my scribbles on separate pages, rather than in the body of blog entry.

As for the choking... I had a visit from a speech therapist this morning. About a year ago I told my consultant that I was having problems if I choked, in that my choke reflex didn't seem very strong, and it took a lot to stop me choking when it happened. Today was the consultation for that problem. However, because the choking fits are so random, there is nothing that can be done, as for them to find out what causes the problems they would have to observe a choking fit. Which is perfectly reasonable. Hopefully, I'll not have another three weeks of choking fits for a while *fingers crossed*.

Locked out!

Oh noes! No access to the Open Uni forums! Noooooeeeeesssss! I can't cope with that! I'm all Grrrr Arggghhh right now.

At least bedtime is good. Sean Bean is a great Principessa-put-to-sleeper! And I'm enjoying listening to the stories as well. I'm looking forward to getting a little bit of time to myself so that I can listen to The Supernaturalist by Eoin Colfer, read by Jack Davenport. *Flibble* Interesting dreams lay ahead!

Well, off to tend to pebbledashing Principessa. And to do some studying, I suppose, now there is no distraction from course fora.

Looking forward to bedtime.

Not mine, although I do enjoy my sleep. Nope, looking forward to Principessa's bedtime. Not because it means she'll be quiet (that is a bonus!), but because of what will happen at bedtime.

Recently, when I've taken Principessa to bed, we have listened to a story on the iPod. Over the last week it has been The Wolves In The Walls written and read by Neil Gaiman. Before that it was Dr. Seuss's The Cat In The Hat Comes Back read by Kelsey Grammer. But tonight, oh a treat! As she has been enjoying the audiobooks so much, I decided to invest in a few more. One of the new audiobooks is King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table by Benedict Flynn. Now, as it's Arthurian mythology it was a must buy, but I hadn't looked at who was reading it. Imagine my joy at discovering that Sean Bean is the narrator. Yay! *Swoon* 'Twill be a happy bedtime tonight! Now all I need to do is find an audiobook narrated by Jack Davenport!

Anxiety.

My course materials finally appeared today. Argh! I am stressing out. The onset of A215 is a reality now, not just an electronic anomaly on the hard drive. Eeps! Currently in the process of copying the audio discs to iTunes.

With the closing of A103, A215 begins. A103, however, has left its mark. Before studying the introductory humanities course I am ashamed to say I had never heard of Rachel Carson. The first essay I had to write was based around an extract of Silent Spring. I enjoyed that essay, but still I haven't got around to buying the book. Then, in the final essay, I once again used the reactions towards Silent Spring and Rachel Carson as part of my argument as to how women's actions began to change science in the 1960s. So, when Elizabeth Bear mentioned the name Rachel Carson in her blog yesterday, I had some sort of inkling as to the reference. This made me happy.

As long as I have knowledge, I will always be happy.

Oh my!

300 posts! Well, I never thought I'd manage that. I quit my first ever blog on 99 posts, then the second blog on four posts. Way hay, congratulations me!

Anyway... I once again picked up Dust by Elizabeth Bear the other day and have been reading it when I have a spare second. When I first picked it up I couldn't get into it, my brain just wasn't in the right space to process it. With Principessa being ill over the weekend, reading seconds have been few and far between, so it's been slow going. Until last night. The story hit the ground running, and I became completely enthralled! I had promised myself an early night, but the book had other ideas. I was loathe to put it down to go to sleep, but my eyes threatened a boycott (why does boycott have two 't's? Is there really any reason?) and the cocktail sticks were becoming ever so slightly riotous against the rallying eyelids! I will resume reading again once I've finished on the net. (Now very tempted to buy the Promethean Age series.)

But... maybe I should do some writing first?

Bleurgh.

Didn't get anything done yesterday. My poor Principessa was very poorly.

Yesterday morning she woke up screaming "I have red in my mouth!" I thought she had had a nightmare, so I gave her a cuddle and she went back to sleep again. She woke up again complaining of the same thing, and then throughout the morning she complained intermittently about the red in her mouth. I gave her a colds and coughs pastille, and for a little while she was okay and happily went to the swing park. But when she came home she complained about a headache, had a cuddle and then went upstairs to sit with Nanny. The next thing I knew she was panic crying, and Nanny was calling that she had been sick. Oh, my poor little munchkin. Being sick frightens her so much. She was so ill all last night, but by this morning she was back to her normal demanding self. Well, not so normal. She has been very bossy this morning, making up for yesterday. Little monster! But I'd rather have her like that than the sickly Principessa. It's really weird though, as it is around this time every year she has a one day illness that always includes a puke fest. Very strange.

At the moment, she is making interesting Jackson Pollock type pictures on the computer, so I am going to read some more of the Big Red Book PDF, and do some freewriting. I am letting the clusters sleep in today.

If I had but the talent or the inkling...

This is fantastic! Batman meets Jane Austen, one of the funniest things I've read in a long time.

And speaking of films, holy heck was I disappointed. I watched Be Kind, Rewind last night. Now, while the film was good, not excellent by any stretch of the imagination, I enjoyed it. I loved the use of pizza bloodsplats, and tinsel ghost tazers, but the ending was... not exactly an ending. One thing I like in a film, if it is not part of a series, is for it to have some closure. BKR had no closure. It seemed like they got to that point in the film and just said "Ah, stuff it. That'll do. It's a wrap." Pah! Such a pity, because it was a good idea.

As for the clustering. It seems to be coming along a little. The brain is slowly opening, like a Predataor's maw with lockjaw! I'm not used to thinking in spidergraphs, it almost seems forced. I'm finding it difficult to generate ideas when prompted with something that is likely to be far from the actual story subject. Hopefully, once I've worked through my skepticism, this technique will turn on some lights. At the moment it just feels wrong forcing my brain to make leaps that it wouldn't normally, it usually takes tenacious leaps of its own accord and slaps me accordingly!

Anyway. Back to it.

And so it starts...

(Pic from http://www.prog99.com/Hillwalking%20in%20Scotland/2006/Ben%20Lomond%20-%20September%202006/index.html)

The self-doubt has made a fine log cabin in my head.

With acres of untamed fields and woodland of niggling questions and mountainous arguments. Wood for the trees? That's me. And each tree feels like a whomping willow, forcibly thwacking me with branches of self-deprecation, cutting deep rivulets in already low confidence. No tyre swings or fairy godmothers in sight. The sun is shining with a darkness, lining silver clouds and locking in the goodness. The fog refuses to give up its Brochen spectres, leaving me cold and lonely, warm in the knowledge of impending failure.

Yep. I am already writing myself off. (No pun intended there.) Do they do insurance deals for confidence? You know, in the case of serious self-doubt they provide you with a hire-ego while taking yours away to massage it back into self-belief?

Argh!

What he said.

Mr McCullough has been at it again, netspeaking with that common sense type stuff when it comes to writing, or not writing for writing as the case may be. (And no, I'm not becoming an internet name-invoking stalker!)

Well, that's all. Need to get back to exploring clusters. (And no, that's not star clusters or crunch nut clusters, but wordly type clusters. So far, not having much luck finding anything interesting. Bummer! Though there was one thing... *toddles off thinking clustery thoughts*)

Intent to write weirdness.

Despite buzzing televisions, tons of washing and a demanding Principessa, I actually managed to do one of the writing exercises. Yay me! I had a go at the freewrite exercise, though I don't know if what I scribbled could be counted as a freewrite. You see, I can't write without putting in some form of punctuation, like I think in commas and apostrophes. I can't help it. But writing a freewrite, you are supposed to just write stream of consciousness stuff, so punctuation is superfluous to requirements. I just can't do it! Even if the punctuation might be a bit off - comma diarrhoea and the like - I have to put it in. Not only that, but the stuff I did write was a bit like sinister, surrealist fiction with environmental (as in noises around me) influences structuring the sentences. Anyway, enough of that. This is what I came up with (as written and unedited) for the "One summer's day" prompt:

One summer's day the world ended. Well. Not ended as such, but it stopped. Just for a split second. The washing machine trundled away on its own merry business, spinning the children like one of those rides in the fairground. They giggled and gurgled as the machine sprayed them with luke-warm water. After all, health and safety is rife now and using cold water can get you sued.

My mind piled up with all these strange, stringy thoughts. They tumbled out like so many hankies from a magician's sleeve. Red, angry thoughts. Purple, peaceful thoughts. Blue, cold revenge thoughts. But it was the yellow, summery thought that caught my attention, bouncing like tennis balls off freshly cut grass. That green, verdant smell was in my nostrils, the hazy summer sun buzzing with the intent of an angry wasp in the front of my head. Migraine, nausea and hayfever struck with one single, violent exploding jerk of my body.

Some of it I really like, but some of it seems just a bit too twisted! Eeps, I think my mind is slightly strange. And does it count as a freewrite, as that is exactly how it seeped from my brain?

Keep on dreaming boy, 'cos when you stop dreaming it's time to die.

(Picture from www.bbc.co.uk/sports)

Ah well. Andy Murray didn't win. He gave it a good shot, and played some fantastic tennis, but Roger came out and you could see the win in his eyes. Andy was just a pesky little fly that needed swatting, and swatting in the most complete sense of the word. But still, what an amazing game. Some of the rallies brought out the best tennis in the both of them, but I haven't seen Roger play that way - with that confidence - all year. Stunning!

Elizabeth Bear is offering up some more food for thought in regards to narrators and POV. Go have a read. You wont be disappointed.

So, Principessa is in school. I would love to get some writing done, but there is nowhere in this silly house that provides any silence. I think I may have to invest in some earplugs, just to blot out the sounds of the TV. Drives me mad. I'd love just to switch the TV off, but a Skidaddles insists on zoning out in front of it. Ho hum.

Anyhows, off to wash Principessa's painted uniform.

Brrrrrr....

Pebble! Yes, I know, some explanation necessary. Nanny was trying to teach Principessa to say rock the other day.

• Nanny: Rrrrrrrrrock.
• Princi: Brrrrrrrrr-wock.
• Nanny: No, rrrrrrrrrock. Put your tongue behind your teeth.
• Princi: Brrrrrrrr-wock.
  

A little later, Principessa went to see Nanny again to give her one of the her stones.

• Princi: There you go Nanny. Brrrrrrrrr-pebble.

That still makes me laugh. She's a funny Monkey.

On sports news... Woohoo! Andy Murray is in the final of the US Open. He shall be playing Roger Federer tonight, though I doubt I will be awake to bite fingernails 'watching' him. (No Sky, virtual scoreboards on the computer.) But I am hopeful of good news in the morning!

As for Formula 1. Well, grrrr. After a fantastic race, the last three laps being the best part of the race, it became all a bit dreary. Lewis Hamilton won the race, but because of an incident with Kimi Raikkonen on the last three laps, or there abouts, Hamilton was stripped of the win and docked 25 seconds. This put him into third place. Now, this is what happened. Lewis attempted to overtake Kimi, but Kimi blocked Lewis, pusing him off the track. Travelling along the inside of the chicane, Lewis overtook Kimi as he corrected himself but, following the rules, he gave the advantage back to Kimi before attempting to overtake ligitmitly, therefore no unfair advantage was gained. He managed to overtake Kimi in the next corner, but Kimi once again overtook Lewis. Unfortunately for Kimi, a little while later he spun the car, crashing into the track wall. It was due to these events that, two hours later, Lewis's victory was revoked and given to Filipe Massa instead. So, once again, Ferrari are awarded the win. It makes me wonder what the FIA (does that stand for Ferrari Intercompitition Assistance?) has against McLaren. Ho hum. Think it's time to stop watching F1. Just as it is time to stop watching anything with the term 'Eurovision' prefixing the title. It's all just a load of political bull.

Jumping off the soapbox now.

And House is on, so I can't be bothered linking everything.... Yes, lazy day today.

And it is done.

Finished and sent off, good riddance to TMA08. I would say I hated every minute of it, but some of it I quite enjoyed writing. Saying that, I feel about 08 the same way I felt about 06, that it's a big pile of poo! As much as I want a funky high mark for it, I will be happy just to pass it.

And with the finishing of TMA08, it is also the end of A103. So what do I think I have learned? Well, I think I understand poetry now, though I will never again have the ignorance of writing poetry without thinking of the mechanics ever again. That I will miss. I've realised that I might want to pursue an English language and literature degree, rather than just the language degree. I have a new appreciation for classical music now that I can deconstruct it and mostly understand the techniques used to compose it. I was terrified of the art history sections, but once I started on them I fell into them, and enjoyed it more that I thought I would. I also now have some passing knowledge of philosophy, though I don't feel I could call myself adept at philosophising. All in all, apart from struggling a little through demotivation during the middle-ish of the course, I have enjoyed my time on A103.

I think I shall give myself the weekend to relax (and damn the weather, as I can't go and see La Machine) and play games with Principessa before starting with A215. Yay! Finally I am there!

I knew there was something else...

Woohoo! Andy Murray is in the semi-finals of the US Open. Well done that man!

The unreachable 2000.

ARGH! This essay is beginning to grate now. Every word feels like it's being ripped from another dimension, biting and clawing to be left alone. I've now written just over 1800 words, but it feels like it'll never be finished. I keep combing what I have to make sure I have enough words to finish this last bit about the Early Music Revival (sorry, Sir Peter Maxwell Davies, I shall have to keep Eight Songs For A Mad King to myself this time) and the windy-uppy conclusion. I was about to say I knew where I was going with the conclusion, but leaving out Max... I have to rethink.

Oh noes! Hang on, I have to free my little Principessa fish from the net! (She is currently playing in her hamster-style tent-tube with some Daleks. However, the tube has become a net that she keeps getting trapped in.)

Awww. She's so cute and funny:

Thank you Mummy, you saved me. I missed you sooo much. Can you make me a drink to make me feel better?

Just lately she has settled on a new phrase. Whenever she has food or drink that she doesn't want, the cry goes up:

But it tastes like snakes!

How does she know? I've never seen her eat a snake! Maybe Grandad told her that snakes taste like chicken. Besides for snakey-tasting stuff, she is enjoying school so far. Thankee muchly.

Back to the grindstone, anyway.

Again with the free (downloadable, but not keepable) e-book.

Harper Collins are once again offering a Neil Gaiman book, this time Neverwhere, for free for the next 30 days. You can either read it online, or you can download it, though the downloaded file does expire after 30 days.

Go here to enjoy the brilliance that is Neverwhere.

(I loved this book. I think, in fact, I shall dig it out and read it again. Mr Croup and Mr Vandemar make the most delicious villains. You know, I would be so happy if Mr Gaiman were to write a book with these two characters as the protagonists, rather than the antagonists. I still have to see the BBC miniseries, just to see how it fronts up to the book.)

With aptness to the new writing cause...

Okay, so I am blatantly pinching this from Kelly McCullough's post on Wyrdsmiths today, but I thought it very apt for those of us about to embark on A215.

Once more unto the book, dear friends, once more;
Now mark the page up with our English words.
In lulls there's nothing becomes a writer
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the novel call blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd ink;
Then lend the pen a terrible aspect;
Let pry through the portage of the head
Like the brass cannon; let the word o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth bad metaphor
O'erhang and shadow its intended thought,
Swill'd with the wild and wasteful word.
Now set the start and stretch the keyboard wide,
Hold hard the breath and bend up every writer
To their full plot. On, on, noblest novelist.
Whose blood is fet from fathers of literature!
Fathers that, like so many Asimovs,
Have in these parts from morn till even writ
Then sheathed their pens for lack of argument:
Dishonour not your keyboards; now attest
That those whom you took as models did beget you.
Be example now to those of grosser blood,
And teach them how to write. And you, good yeoman,
Whose pens were dipped in ink, show us here
The mettle of your writing; let us swear
That you are worth your paper; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you so mean and base,
That hath not vital story in your heart.
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for story, pen, and written word!'

If I knew Mr McCullough I would thank him for this Shakespeare distortion, as it kind of gets the blood boiling again when it comes to writing for pleasure - of a sort! (Yes, I know, I will still be writing with the aim of finishing a piece for a new set of TMAs, but at the same time other things I will write for pleasure will be better for it.)

Serious fixation?

Just now, Principessa presented me with this scribble.

Me: Oh, that's nice. But who is JW?
Princi: (All shy and coy) James Whale.

I want to know what Voodoo magic James Whale has performed on my little Principessa to deserve such admiration!

(If you're wondering what I'm on about, the scribbles at the bottom look like capital cursive J and W.)

First day.

Eeps! It's Principessa's first day at Nursery today. I just don't understand how I managed to convert mini pink Sith Principessa into little blue schoolie Principessa!

Okay, so maybe it isn't technically her first day. She did try nursery last September, but she hated it. I think she may still have been a little too young. But she seems quite excited about it now, although this morning she was less enthusiastic. We'll see. I hope she does enjoy it this time round.

Just lately Principessa has decided it is fun to speak Mockney. I have no idea why. She keeps on saying things like:

• Can I have my compu-ah?
• I need to make it beh-ah.
  

It is very funny.

Anyhows, time for school.

Discombobulated by discomgoogolation?

Mooching around... well, OK. Going to play games on Yahoo! this afternoon, I came across this article. And I have to say, how true it is. I've posted a couple of times about the frustration of losing the internet. It really does make me all jittery, cold turkey stylee!

Then I got to thinking. It's almost sinister how the internet has slotted into everyday life more seamlessly than even mobile phones. I mean, I could live without a mobile phone, but losing the internet drives me absolutely loopy! It's quite scary, when you think about it, how all this information/disinformation is there, at the touch of a fingertip. The internet - greatest conspiracy of all time? I'd have to say yes. After all, how many places have you readily volunteered any personal information without as much as a second thought? And now, as a way to safeguard your computer or car, a biometric fingerprint system has been devised. Now, surely for that to work all the fingerprints will have to be kept on a database somewhere? Devious.

Anyway, enough of my foil hat madness. I still have 500 words to write.