inspiration – Page 8 – don't confuse the narrator

the muse bemused

Yesterday, I said that my muse seems to have gone off on holiday.

After reading this story on the BBC website this morning, I wonder if she’s travelling by train, and in particular if she’s travelling with Chiltern Railways. The headline reads

Chiltern Railways toilets become ‘inspiration stations’

and the story tells how the train toilets are being transformed with floor-to-ceiling vinyl images based on “attractions” along the Birmingham to London route. The only example cited is Compton Verney, an 18th Century country mansion in Warwickshire.
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on holiday

Last weekend, the pueblo celebrated the fiestas of the local Virgin. (Not the summer fiestas – those were at the end of August, and not the fiestas for the patron saint – that’s next month: the Spanish are always happy to take days off work and chase bulls through the streets or set off firecrackers.)

Fireworks, Arenas de San Pedro, fiestas de la Virgen del Pilar

Now there is a lull in the village as the locals close up their shops to go and join the vendimia or take advantage of end-of-season offers to take their own holidays.
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a point to writing

I was surprised this week to be told by the WordPress robots that I registered this blog six years ago. (If they are right, I must have fudged some dates at the beginning as the first post is dated 23rd April 2007.)

During those six years I’ve written over 750 posts. Some have featured photos and very little text, but some have straggled on well beyond the 500 words that I think is a good maximum length for a blog post. This means there’s probably enough text in this blog for three full-length novels – one written every couple of years – without any great effort on my part.
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thinking

Once again, the poetry cogs in my brain don’t seem to be turning very fast.

I wish I could believe that even when being unproductive my mind was as beautiful and as full of potential as the machinery in the photo.

old poetry

It’s a bit disheartening to go away for a few days hoping to find new ideas only to realise that you have already written poems that correspond to almost everything you see. Sadly, that was what happened to me this week. Then again, it gives me an excuse to re-visit some older pieces.