King David, Gustave Moreau
The morning bears the light of tarnished silver, bleak and moody. Yesterday’s writing work time was eaten away by a plethora of mundanities, but in the evening I managed to get a few things done, importing the map of Charlevois’s provinces into Scrivener, doing a bit of research on the marguerite daisy, then taking a long soak to ease the lingering ache in my muscles from last week’s yoga and the cardio sculpt class at the gym. While I soaked I read the February issue of The Writer, and thought about how to rewrite TAKEN (my working title that’s going to change yet again).
The past week was hectic, what with going to the gym and torturing myself with yoga and doing that cardio sculpt class that just about gave me a heart attack. I cannot hold a ball between my thighs and do push-ups! Geesh!
And…yoga can be painful, trying to get past inflexibility, trying to maintain balance with arms and legs extending up and down, and trying to keep breathing all at the same time. Eventually I’ll be as bendy as a pretzel and the muscles will stop complaining–if I don’t break something first.
I want to change pendrifter, give the blog a new perspective, don’t know what yet.
Today I’m going to work on TAKEN, not yet at the writing stage, still figuring out what to do with the zero draft.