a writer's notebook: "write a little every day, without hope, without despair" - isak dinesen
Tuesday, May 15, 2018
'The trees are in their autumn beauty' - 2
I've struggled, today, against all of the ghosts in my head so as to maintain an even keel. Lost. Confused. Out of kilter.
Despite it being a magnificent day, more than enough to lift almost anyone's spirits, I'm fighting a bleak and wintery outlook. I'm questioning where I am. I'm questioning what I'm doing. I'm seeing no alternatives. I'm uninspired.
To stay put at my desk is a fight to the death.
I've promised myself that if I make another two hours, I will take me out for a bite and glass of wine, preferably to somewhere with a clear and beautiful outlook. Like the top floor of my 'local', Jamaica Me Crazy, in Upper Woodstock, with its uninterrupted view across Table Bay
I took this photo on Friday afternoon. After emerging, blinking, from the Jagger Reading Room on Upper Campus at UCT. The weather had turned. Suddenly, t was cold, a cold front was striking the Peninsula. I savoured the moodiness, the fact that it was autumn-looking in winter. I was grateful for my jacket and leaned into the strong, icy breeze as I walked, briskly, back down the mountain.
On Friday afternoon, I knew where I was headed. Not today.
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