Writer’s block: coming or going?
I’ve managed to avoid blog posts that report on my own navel-gazing for a long time, but right now I’m ready to cave in and just write about belly-button lint.
In a nutshell: I feel stuck.
Call it writer’s block, call it cumulative frustration from constant interruption, call it an inability to visualize clearly… I don’t know.
Oh, let’s call it electrical gremlins, eh? I’ve written before about how there’s something weird about my Pentrelew house, how it’s sited, its naughty L-shape (missing corner!) — and how all things electrical inexplicably fritz up, that appliances go on and off mysteriously, seemingly with autonomy. (Naturally I can’t find the entry anymore …pixels seem equally afflicted.) Whenever you take two steps forward on Pentrelew, you’re obliged within moments to take one step back, too. “Pentrelew,” incidentally, is the name of the street I live on. I’m told it’s some sort of old Cornish word that means “land which slopes both ways.”
Uh-huh.
The street was named for the now-demolished estate of the Crease family. I guess they felt that with a name like “crease,” they could afford to live on a sloping piece of ground where you don’t know if you’re coming or going, and so called their estate “Pentrelew.” The acreage their property sat on is criss-crossed by underground streams (I once hired the dowser who re-found neighbouring Fernwood‘s public well, to map the underground streams in my postage-stamp backyard), and if one wanted to indulge in magical thinking (and let’s face it, who doesn’t when the moon is at a certain phase?), one could argue that there’s something fundamentally confused about the feng shui here.
Pen-tre-lew: going in opposite directions at the same time.
I have blog posts, plus project notes, plus correspondence, plus another article deadline up the proverbial yin-yang …and can’t write them out.
Oh, and about those gremlins? They’ve invaded my online programs, I think. Diigo bookmarks aren’t showing up as blog posts, even though they’re supposed to, which contributes to the bereft look of these pages of late. There are a couple of good ones, though. See my Diigo page here.
So that’s my navel-gazing complaining boo-hoo-hoo post — and I promise I won’t do it again …for a while, anyway.
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