Jason and Medea, John William Waterhouse
The weather has turned frigid, morning air like cold glass against my face. Have reviewed 121 pages of The Foreigner and made lots of notes. I’m thinking now the story should begin on the day Marius Saul leaves Gabrysia and arrives in Amara. What he’s going through on that day provides motivation for what he does once he’s in Amara.
Reading: Gail Godwin’s Journals: The Making of a Writer. The journals are fascinating, detailing her life as she struggled to become a writer. I’ve never read any of her work, but now I want to.
Also, I’ve started to write a fantasy poem, not on my list of things to write, but for a long time I’ve had lingering in my mind an image from living in Germany–a white flowering pear tree on a hill near an ancient Roman ruin. On the way to school, the van drove a road that wound past that hill every day and every day I looked up at that pear tree and the remains of what might’ve been a Roman temple, all that was left were the columns. Below that hill at road level stood a red brick wall, its edges blackened, all that remained of a building bombed during the war, I guess. It had stood there like that against that grassy embankment for decades. I’m not a poet but a writer writes, and a writer can write anything. Right now I’m playing with image and mood, looking for the right words.
“Auno’s Widow”, a short fantasy story I finished years ago has floated to the surface lately. I’d like to revise it, been asking myself questions about it, looking for a way in to making it better.
Made it to yoga class last night, wasn’t sure I would go–been feeling out of sorts all day, but I went. I must be gaining strength ’cause for the first time I was able to lower myself into plank without collapsing onto my mat.
Tomorrow is Writing Saturday with Michelle, and Sunday I’m going to see Cavalia in Burbank–like Cirque du Soleil with these fantastic horses. So looking forward to that! Happy Friday!