Well hello there, 1st May – does this mean we’re a third of the way through 2020 which is turning out to be, well, quite the year?
Time has turned into something strange. It’s in part sludge, a gigantic wrinkled slug, forward motion only undertaken under duress, slime leaving a sheen of anxiety that makes it difficult to breathe and hard to focus. It’s in part slippery, draining through your fingers, hours dissolving in a rush of supercharged bubbles, as if life is a bottle of coke and some idiot just dropped a whole bunch of Mentos into it.
And the world is awash with strange news. From people burning 5G masts, to protests in the street to get haircuts, to drive through strip clubs. Welcome to the new normal, they say.
My attention span fluctuates, flaps in the imaginary wind running through the rooms of my house. New hobbies have brief moments basking in the glow of my attention, only to be left by the wayside, momentarily discarded and forgotten. I’ve bookmarked videos in order to become an expert in Tai Chi and yoga. I’ve learnt three words of Chinese, of which one has already fled my stagnant brain. I’ve thought about learning sign language. I’ve tinkered with Krita to procrastinate with digital drawing. I’ve watched a LOT of Ink Master, and simultaneously want to get and don’t want to get a tattoo. I have, at the point of writing this post, successfully managed not to shave any of my hair off, although I feel the willpower waning even as I type.
Little significant progress has been made on the writing front. A few words here, a few words there. Some typing some deleting. Some lines that might form something longer. If only I don’t get distracted by the next shiny hobby that swings my way.
And that’s ok, no targets here, no demands.
Just doing days as you can, whatever shape that might be.
But my year so far has been framed by some brilliant reading material. I’m currently reading Chuck Wendig’s Wanderers, which is fantastic so far (as expected, maybe even more so). Recently I’ve had the pleasure of reading gems like Coyote Songs from Gabino Iglesias and My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix (reviews up in the next few weeks). I’ve enjoyed pure escapism from the likes of Max Barry’s Providence and Jeff Noon’s Creeping Jenny. All highly recommended reading, and if you’re looking for something to keep your eyeballs occupied, then take a look at all my reviews here.
Whatever you’re doing, and however you’re spending your time, hope you’re all doing well and staying safe.