Work In Progress~ W.I.P.

On 8 July 2013 23:28, Martin Law martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com wrote:

Work In Progress~ W.I.P.
A good day.  Even though i spent most of it thinking it was sunday.  Not because of the sun but just because i missed a page in my diary.  When i found out it was monday by going to the computer, everything still looked the same.  So much for calendars.
Being hot, with not a cloud in the sky or anywhere else, i put my new table (a notable good investment) in the garden and did some writing.
It pays to stay at home on a sunny day because most people go somewhere and leave me alone.  But for the inevitable neighbour noises like power tools, spraying sounds, plastic garden furniture dragged across concrete, loud voices in various accents and languages, and something i imagined to be an angle grinder as if somebody was doing a tooth job on a giant in his back garden.  There seems to be no consensus on noise pollution except that nobody minds. At least it's not like the Mediterranean where noise is synonymous with life.
So, while waiting for the 'TOAD' article to sprout and contemplating the progress of plants drenched in summer heat and impartially noting the random remnants of inner dialogue, allowing them to subside into their silent inner backdrop, i wrote spontaneously another article titled, I AM JUST IN TIME, which was simply the coalescence of a contemplative flow that followed through and ran downhill to its destination.
Instantly i knew what to do for illustrations and took a string of innovative photos right where i was sitting, which were improvised to be direct epitomes of what i was writing about. All i have to do is feed them into the screen box, thence to be further siphoned and condensed to a portable cyber point.  Talking of talking points, i do love pencils, they are a pleasure to have and hold, even though at times my informal calligraphy may become a little blunt.
The possibly noticed slight drought i.e. thin on the ground and in the sky of smoke signals due to the combination of reading glasses and screen glare in electric light cumulatively doing temporary harm to my optical vision, affecting my faculty of focus adversely and having to go easy on it.  Glasses being the last thing i need while awaiting the arrival of pinhole glasses which steer your overall visual formatting into equidistant holes by virtue of the black space around them. A display of 'holes in one'.
Meanwhile, 'Squintsalot' alias Rainbowmaker recalls it was the same in my teens, longterm outdoor sketching. I would walk away after hours of virtually looking through the page in simulated three dimensionality and it might be a few hours before my eyes were back in focus, but look at all i've done since even without reading glasses.  Allow nature to correct itself and en plein aire focus on what we call 'things' near and far without a blast of ultra white radiation burning through the hieroglyphs, baffling the optics into bedazzlement and glued with crusty cobwebs on awakening. They're my eyes (so to speak) and i've been looking through them longer and with more artistic versatility than any optician.  Ironic that i failed the visual recognition test which steered me away from entering Grammar School to who knows what end.  No need to be repainting late Monet's, that can be done anyway without blurred vision, any more than you need an ear problem to fake Van Gogh's, not to mention Beethoven.
Suffice it to say, i wipe my eyes in the knowledge that i will type as I AM JUST IN TIME in my offline office, and i have more than half a dozen very artistic photos, some of which the cognitive faculty may wonder how i did them... Aha!

So saying, this looks like another relevant blog post, stuck it in somewhere soon without it being cause for a fence.  Oh and with it being like Provence out there i planted out some tomato plants in a sheltered but sunny spot with a plastic bin liner reflector and draught stopper to the north through the hedge and may well plant the remainder (thank you to moo). If they survived and thrived indoors, which they have, then they can be happy out there now, with already signs of fruiting. Writing, pottering, transplanting, meditating, basking simultaneously.   Feeding flocks of sparrows pecking organic oatmeal on the dry clay dusty sunbaked garden paths as they all blast off as one to the shade of the spreading sally willow and return again to continue pecking, being less trouble than humans except when they eat the young beetroot leaves and leave them scattered.
A good day in the universe.
Peace at the cellular level, (where else?).
I'm serious mind you.
> Rainbowmaker.~

Camera :  martin law photo, “. . . dry clay dusty sunbaked garden”, 13:09, 29 MAY, 2013