I have been avoiding typing things on the internet, apart from at work, where I have to type a lot of things on the internet all day long. Things like: Books On Falconry; and Where Is Balmoral; and Heller, Mandasue; and My Local Councillor; and This Postcode On yell.com; and The Meaning Of Dreams; and lots of names and surnames and titles of books and authors of books and lots of stuff that I've forgotten already.
I don't hate the internet. I think it is brilliant. I think it is the 'best thing since sliced bread'. But sometimes I just don't feel like being on it very much.
On Friday I went to see Polarbear's If I Cover My Nose You Can't See Me. He completely blew me away. He's one of the best storytellers I've ever encountered. I left quietly stunned.
Impending rain doom prevented the Norfolk boat retreat and Alan Partridge impersonations. Probably for the best. Saturday was spent instead in the windswept grounds of Rufford Abbey, touching sculptures and taking lots of photos of trees. I can't help myself if there are trees and I am 'with camera'.
a sheep on a bench
what the artist could see from that spot at the time (this appeals to my love of all things pylon)
big ole wooden dragons
a real live fly agaric
The following is my favourite quote from the internet this week so far:
"the advent of World War I reduced interest in fairies along with fly agarics."
scary
Exciting and good things have been happening on the internet. This is one such thing. You might have already read it, but if you haven't, you should do that now.
And then there is the Beat The Dust October birthday bonanza. Ten writers, one story, much amazingness.
And I think I may have found my mojo. Maybe.
No comments:
Post a Comment