Recovery Writing

Something new I'll start posting. Recovery Writing - flash prose, McCarthy-styled musings, whatever you want to call it.

The sharp teeth of the winter chill bites on each broken branch, gnaws on each retiring leaf, sinks into the lapsing of each tired tide. Behind the beautiful and monstrous mountain, majestic behind the flurried film of snow, is a red valley. Unlike the wilting green of the grass plains. Unlike the yellow flesh of a baked potato. Red like anger, romance and rust. Red in winter. Defined against the white – grey – silver – sky that smells like cold and smells like the concept of buried pine trees. Is the world compressed? Or wider – like each swifter stride? The lashing of the wind is a welcome whip after an unsatisfying day.

Lookout

Be on the lookout for...
1) A review of Father and Sons
2) A review of The Book of Other people
3) A review of Life of Pi
4) Updated playlist
5) A review of Mildred Pierce (reading now)

Hello, December!

It is officially the first day of my favourite month of the year. I feel like each time winter twinkles back into my life, it brings out the best in me. I feel sharper, like the crisp weather, cleaner, like the air, more concise, filtered, and sanitized... I think more, the plucking of a guitar means more, and each clean breath is a delight... it feels like the McCarthy-reading, sweater-layering, and satisfying pressing-on-the-cool-violin-strings season I wish I had all year round. Comfort does wonders to the head and heart. I face an event-packed week, but I am at ease. Winter... each bare branch, the tinge of a chill, the thought of snow in another country... winter feels like literature, like delicate music, like a steady pulse. Winter is hours spent burrowing inside blankets with a book, a sweat-free walk in the hills, and a time to nail Jack Johnson, Marling and Mitchell songs on the guitar. Winter is for letting my hair down and feeling it grow. Winter - the word itself is poetry - how pleasant is the short 'i' and the turning of tone 't' brings after 'n'... winter is hands stuck in pockets, feet tucked in boots, and warming up next to the heater. Winter is keeping warm. Winter is lovely, and it is here!

A short walk in a southern wood

So - I'm still living in the busy weeks I referred to in my last post - but here's an update:
1) I finished Father and Sons and The Book of Other People. Reviews and quotes for those two are coming soon.
2) I'm currently reading The Little Red Writing Book and Mildred Pierce.
3) I've borrowed The Orchard Keeper by Cormac McCarthy from the library but this intervenes with my McCarthy-reading 5 Year Plan so I'm debating whether or not I should jump into it straight away (the beautiful first sentence is so tempting).
4) I'm becoming increasingly interested in the works of Ron Padgett, an American Poet.
5) I'm a tad concerned about whether I've been grammatically correct in my previous posts (I've picked up an annoying habit of dropping pronouns).

That is all for the moment. I'm working very hard on my Personal Project, and will forever be in debt to the LOTR soundtracks for helping me through this strenuous journey.

The World is Ahead

I know I've disappeared for probably a month, now. Here's what's been happening
- I am living in the busiest couple of weeks of my life! Every weekend I turn to has something booked sometime, somewhere... insane...
- Reading Father and Sons by Ivan Turgenev and The Book of Other People edited by Zadie Smith. The former gives me a way subdued taste of what reading Anna Karenina must be like, and the latter is quite brilliant - great combination of fanatically clever and profound short stories! People, people! There is no way to pen down exactly what type they are - just the things they do...

Here's a taster -

It is 4:30 a.m. and Magda would like us, her neighbors, to know that she is a very talented woman, a woman of accomplishments. Magda is a nurse, a qualified pilot, a businesswoman and a philanthropist, a gifted and sensitive lover, the holder of certificates in computing and English grammar, a semi-professional country singer, and a mother. Yes, a mother! Magda has a daughter. Who came out of this pussy right here.

Anyway, stressful day. And I am de-stressing in the most beautiful way possible... the complete soundtrack for The Hobbit is out and Howard Shore is stronger than ever before. I haven't heard anything DUN DUN DUN like the battle themes for Gondor and Rohan yet, but the Concerning Hobbits theme is back and lovelier than ever, so sweet and thickly mellow. Then, of course, there are new pieces - most noticeably, The Misty Mountains Cold which is playing right now as I type. So many new tribal sounds...

I am currently 23:29 minutes into what will be a heart-warming, tear-jerking, and EPIC 1:45:5 hour journey. I'll write more when I finish listening to the soundtrack.

This movie had better win BEST SOUNDTRACK at the Oscars!

OK - now a peek at Radagast the Brown...

For those of you who don't know, Radagast is Gandalf's cousin (I just recently learned, too), and here he rightly looks like a hobo Gandalf. Anyway, he, along with Gandalf and Saruman, were members of the Istari. Of course, eventually only Gandalf remains truly loyal to the quest, but Radagast does not go to the dark side like Saruman does. He was one with the nature and the animals, and chose to pursue that path. If you want more information, GOOGLE!