Tuesday January 1, 2002
This evening I watched the TV screening of Shakespeare in Love and was swept away by it once more. I love that Elizabethan swagger, the confidence of it, shown in the language of body and of word. There’s no knowing of course that the vigour and the passion we associate with the age are accurate, or accurately portrayed. Doesn’t matter to me. I have my own vision of the Golden Age and the people who lived within it and these players fleshed it out beautifully.
I was foolish enough to attempt a poem later in the evening, on hope. The idea is sound enough but my head was still singing Shakespeare’s song and the words fell not just into the beginnings of a sonnet but attempted to ape, clumsily, the manner and the intricacy of Elizabethan language. It’s good to work within the constraints of the Shakespearien sonnet form but the complexity and trickery of Elizabethan poetry is best left in history. We live in plainer times.
I’ve put the poem aside, and shall leave it until my head clears itself.
The weather continues very cold. I make a minor provisioning trip to Williton this afternoon and found the place closed. If the Shell filling station with its small shop hadn’t been open for business I should have returned empty handed from a just about empty town. Most people were staying home, I suspect, spending the last day of the big holiday resting up before normal business restarts tomorrow.
I was a little irritated to discover that our house details are not advertised in the agent’s window and shall need to drop in there tomorrow morning so that they may share in my disappointment. It’ll be March or even April before the big move like as not, and I don’t want the thing to drift into the summer season.
We kept the new negative scanner busy today, working on our house shots and I’ll start work tomorrow on the job of putting together a ‘house for sale’ website. I want to call it ‘[Welcome to] The Old Ranch House’. Graham doesn’t. We shall have to see how it develops.
So anyway, that’s it for the holiday I suppose. Shame to see it go though I confess I’m looking forward to getting back to normal work patterns tomorrow. We made a quiet affair of it, staying home for the most part, keeping warm and resting up. We’ve come through the thing without a single cross or irritated word and with not a sign of cabin fever. I think we could do with a bit of a walk and a lot of fresh air tomorrow, to blow the cobwebs away, but that’s only to be expected. All in all we earned our rest period and if all goes well we shall be looking back on it with some fondness in the weeks ahead.
It’s not only New Year’s Day today, it’s the half-way point through the current writing year. Progress towards ‘becoming a writer’? Quite a lot, really. I think I’m about as ready as I shall ever be; I’ve worked hard at the craft and now it’s time to start applying it.