On Muses and Smoke
Dec. 15th, 2006 10:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katiefooleryI swore at Jane last night. Well, not out loud, because people were asleep and would have been more than a little disgruntled if I’d suddenly yelled out, “F@#% you, Jane!” to an othewise silent house.
I’m not usually that rude to her... mostly because she pays no attention. But it was two o’ clock in the morning and I was slightly interested in getting some sleep and I did not appreciate being kept up because my daft, furniture-obsessed muse had decided that we had a really good story idea that I had to go and start writing right this minute.
It’s the way she takes me by surprise that annoys me the most. My muse attacks by stealth. There I was, desperately trying to get to sleep whilst simultaneously musing over what I have come to call “The Black Fiddle Issue”. Which doesn’t sound all that impressive, really. In essence, I am in deep hatred with Black Fiddle at the moment and I have no idea what to do with this first draft of mine. Setting fire to it is my favourite option at the moment. I guess I’ll have to wait until a day when we don’t have a total fire ban, but it’ll be worth it.
So there I was, thinking to myself that the only thing I really like about the entire draft is the concept of the Black Fiddle itself. And that’s where Jane stepped in and grew extremely hyper about the idea of writing the story of the Black Fiddle’s origins and wouldn’t this be great and you could work that in too. And oh! oh! oh! what about this?
It was around about then that I swore at her in my mind and tried to go to sleep on her.
Which I managed about an hour or so later.
Cursed muses.
But enough about Jane. I really came here today to share some photos I took of the smoke on Wednesday evening. For the last couple of weeks, bushfires have been raging in the north-east of the state and every now and then, the smoke drifts across the city and suburbs. It was incredibly thick on Wednesday - you couldn’t escape the smell of smoke even if you were inside. And this is what it looked like where I live. (All of the pictures link to larger images.)
This is taken from our front porch, looking at the houses directly beside and behind us. The whiteness is not cloud - it’s all smoke.
This is what we could see if we looked towards the city. Not a lot, really.
And this is an intersection about fifty metres from our house. You can barely see what the cars are driving into.
Luckily, the skies are clear today and it rained last night, so I’m hoping the news on the fires is looking a little more positive.
I’m not usually that rude to her... mostly because she pays no attention. But it was two o’ clock in the morning and I was slightly interested in getting some sleep and I did not appreciate being kept up because my daft, furniture-obsessed muse had decided that we had a really good story idea that I had to go and start writing right this minute.
It’s the way she takes me by surprise that annoys me the most. My muse attacks by stealth. There I was, desperately trying to get to sleep whilst simultaneously musing over what I have come to call “The Black Fiddle Issue”. Which doesn’t sound all that impressive, really. In essence, I am in deep hatred with Black Fiddle at the moment and I have no idea what to do with this first draft of mine. Setting fire to it is my favourite option at the moment. I guess I’ll have to wait until a day when we don’t have a total fire ban, but it’ll be worth it.
So there I was, thinking to myself that the only thing I really like about the entire draft is the concept of the Black Fiddle itself. And that’s where Jane stepped in and grew extremely hyper about the idea of writing the story of the Black Fiddle’s origins and wouldn’t this be great and you could work that in too. And oh! oh! oh! what about this?
It was around about then that I swore at her in my mind and tried to go to sleep on her.
Which I managed about an hour or so later.
Cursed muses.
But enough about Jane. I really came here today to share some photos I took of the smoke on Wednesday evening. For the last couple of weeks, bushfires have been raging in the north-east of the state and every now and then, the smoke drifts across the city and suburbs. It was incredibly thick on Wednesday - you couldn’t escape the smell of smoke even if you were inside. And this is what it looked like where I live. (All of the pictures link to larger images.)
This is taken from our front porch, looking at the houses directly beside and behind us. The whiteness is not cloud - it’s all smoke.
This is what we could see if we looked towards the city. Not a lot, really.
And this is an intersection about fifty metres from our house. You can barely see what the cars are driving into.
Luckily, the skies are clear today and it rained last night, so I’m hoping the news on the fires is looking a little more positive.
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no subject
on 2006-12-14 11:58 pm (UTC)Gotta love muses ^.^
*stomps back to essay and tries to resist the urge to hack it into tiny little pieces*
no subject
on 2006-12-15 12:19 am (UTC)When the bushfires were here a couple years ago, apparently the smoke drifted to New Zealand...
Also, would you like a rusty spoon for Jane? That'll learn her...
no subject
on 2006-12-15 12:39 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-12-15 01:05 am (UTC)The smoke was weirdly invasive on the day I took those photos. The day started out nice and clear and by lunch-time, it looked like that.
no subject
on 2006-12-15 01:05 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-12-15 01:07 am (UTC)Good luck with forcing that essay into a state of obedience.
no subject
on 2006-12-15 02:10 am (UTC)And bad Jane, no donut!
no subject
on 2006-12-15 02:16 am (UTC)Alas, Jane doesn't mind having her doughnuts taken away. You have to confiscate her furniture if you want her to pay any attention. :D
no subject
on 2006-12-15 02:17 am (UTC)There...how's that? ^_~
no subject
on 2006-12-15 02:29 am (UTC)no subject
on 2006-12-15 03:56 am (UTC)