I’ve been celebrating Easter with the abandonment of the ‘heavyweights’ of Camp Hope. Chocolate Easter bunnies are trembling in my wake. Yum.
I’ve also been getting my teeth stuck into some writing. I was assigned an article on the benefits of chucking creative all-nighters. Truth be told I’m a wimp. I’m firmly in of the school of sleep. I’ve never deprived myself of sleep to study or indulge in wild throes of creativity. So it was a bit of a challenge to get excited about the article, but I’ve rounded the corner on it and have found a rather tasty angle. Which is handy as it’s due for editorial review on Thursday and I don’t want to lose a night’s sleep over it!
I’ve also been anxiously waiting by the front door for the postie, as I’ve been emptying my purse with some gusto. I’ve bought my duffel for the trip and a trigger point kit. I think that I might be regretting my enthusiasm for the trigger point kit once I actually roll around with it – ouch, ouch, ouch! Though I can quite easily justify both purchases, my new nail polish on the other hand, is slightly harder to justify.
Mish has jumped on the petrochemical free bandwagon and has been spruinking the wonders of natural beauty (which I totally support). However there are limited products available in Australia, so mish bought a bunch of stuff from The Spirit Lounge and convinced me I should too (her sneaky way of getting me to chip in on shipping!) So I bought some Scotch nail polish.
Working in the health industry means that I can’t wear nail polish, as it’s potentially unhygienic. So slathering my nails in the heavenly Velvet Kilt will be a wonderful way of celebrating my year sans work. That's a suitable justification right?
What makes a gentleman? Is it as simple as opening doors, tipping hats and having inane but polite conversations with the elderly, snotty nosed children and potential in-laws?
Or is it brandishing an indie-endorsed haircut, a sharp suit, polished shoes and minding your p’s and q’s?
According to Grain & Gram, “dedication and longevity are core characteristics of a real gentleman.” The online magazine feature men who demonstrate these qualities in their craft, including - jean making, printmaking, woodwork or music. Each interviewee evokes a sense of old-world sturdiness, perhaps because they clearly know what they are passionate about. They aren’t fickle and fleeting, on the contrary the passion each man has for his vocation is undeniable:
“For me though, no matter where the wind blows me, letterpress printing will always be with me.” Nick Sambrato
“I suddenly realized that that was all I was thinking about: all I cared about was making jeans.” Roy Slaper
However obsession alone doesn’t maketh the gentleman, it’s the hard work that goes into creating something.
“I was self-taught. I just went crazy with it. It was the total skateboarder's approach to it. You don't go to skateboard classes, you kind of just pick it up. You see what other people are doing, you read Thrasher. That was my approach.” Roy Slaper
It is also being able to see the impact your actions have on your surroundings. Fostering a connection between yourself, the environment and an awareness of wider society:
[via: we heart it]
While newspeak exists only in fiction (or does it....?) an even more pervasive, destructive language-killer has infiltrated the newspapers, news sites, and literary blogs of the world -- reviewerspeak.”
There are "compelling" and "powerful" graphs to back up this "fascinating" and "complex" data.
Wow, it's true that cliched statements are devoid of any real meaning - as the above sentence sounds incredibly stark and sarcastic.
In the aftermath of the awards, apparently Kerns was inundated far from pleasant letters. This baffles me, as reviewers should be encouraged to stretch themselves and come up with innovative and most importantly informative interpretations. If the novelist worked so hard to produce the work in question, shouldn't the reviewer? I certainty feel like I need to pull my socks up and sidestep cliches in the future (last cliche withstanding).
I’m still knee deep in “The Corrections” and needed some respite from their heavy hearted discontent, so I started reading Orhan Pamuk’s childhood memoirs “Istanbul: Memories and a City”.
Unfortunately seems like I’ve jumped from one bag of neuroses to another.
