Journal

Back in the early days of blogging, we all learned an important lesson: do not produce content directly on the platform. Draft on reliable software and transfer it over, for your blog will break down or fail to post, and when that happens you will lose all that work.

Then the blogs grew more advanced and the mysterious failures of the software grew infrequent. We grew complacent and went with the easy option.

Or, at least, I did.

And so, with a great deal of nostalgia, I must admit this was not the post I intended to write this morning. I had another one, longer and carefully crafted, full of witty insight that would change your life for the better.

And, as I finished and went to post, the mysteries of the internet reared their head and exiled my post into the ether.

I do not have time to recreate it. There is write club today, and an article deadline, and I am behind everything that I should not be behind on due to illness.

And so, today, you get a photograph of the bench at my local train station. Because I take a lot of photographs of this bench, when I walk past it, and I’ve never really been sure why I keep doing it.

Perhaps, now that it has served some purpose, the bench photographs will cease.

See you tomorrow peeps.

I don’t want to be writing a blog post right now. I just got home from the first weekly RPG session of the year, after a big day’s word count at Write Club, and I feel like slacking off. There’s an old copy of Master of Orion II on my computer, and I feel an overwhelming urge to fire up a game and try to overtake the universe as a race of marauding space lizards.

I probably shouldn’t be writing a blog post right now. If I’ve got energy to burn it would be better served spent getting a few pages done on the current project, or brainstorming the next one, or doing one of the half-dozen things that need doing around the house. Laundry, for example. I could do laundry. I need to do laundry so very badly, and I keep failing to do it, ’cause…

Well.

I’m writing a blog post. A compromise option. Productive in the most general sense, without actually being productive. Hopefully the desire to play computer games will go away once I schedule this post.

It’s going to rain tomorrow, continue through the weekend. I’m working my last Friday of the year, before my hours at the day-job change and I have to settle in to a new routine.

I’m settling in for the long haul. Waiting for the rain.

Yesterday the conversation began a little after nine AM, continued through the long drive up to the Sunshine Coast, and progressed through a thoroughly pleasant lunch and the drive back down to Brisbane again. I dropped one-third of the conversation at the train station a round 8:00 PM. Topics covered: books; writing; more books; notebooks; pens; books; poetry; history; books; health.

I am probably missing something. There was eleven hours of conversation from beginning through to end, and it wasn’t the kind of day that lends itself to neat acts of summary.There is still the faint feeling of an interesting conversation cut very short.

Of all the things a career in art will give you, nothing quite matches up to the friends you make along the way.

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