I went back to where I once belonged at the weekend – down to Devon. Well, I have a job interview early tomorrow, so there's no time to give a detailed account of my stay. However, I did get some photographs, some of which I have put into an album, with which I am rather pleased.
Oh, I'm not really miserable. Devon is not a miserable place. Not for me. I just wanted to use that title for this entry. Perhaps, though, the title might have some relevance if juxtaposed with a rather lovely word I learnt from the A-Word-A-Day e-mail group to which I subscribe. The word in question is 'nostomania', and apparently it denotes, "an overwhelming desire to return home or to go back to familiar places."
Anyway, please enjoy the album. I might add more photos to it at a later date.
Devon looks a lot like where I’m at. Lovely place. I have the feeling if I ever do get to visit England, it won’t be much different-looking than Washington State (at least on the coast). Like home, only with an accent…Beautiful, quiet pictures. The ones of teacups and biscuits, especially.Don’t you hate it when people tell you to smile for photographs?-m
“Don’t you hate it when people tell you to smile for photographs?”I do.A forced smile is nothing but bared teeth, which observation I owe to Tanizaki Jun’ichiro, who wrote in one of his essays that Hollywood actors all appear to be simply showing off their white teeth as some kind of status symbol. I’ve never been to Washington, although I have heard it is very beautiful. Perhaps one day I will have such an opportunity.
“I’ve been wasting time at work perusing the guidelines for several small press & zines…rapidly becoming more depressed as I go. Nobody wants new stuff and those that do…well, you know the story better than I do.”Yes, I do know the feeling. I sometimes think that it would be fine if I were born with a talent for self-promotion, but that seems to be one thing I am lacking, and the world seems to judge people more on that talent than on any other.By way of consolation, I would say that the real reasons for writing have never been acclaim. But I know that this kind of consolation only goes so far. Or, it does with me, anyway. I’ve been pretty down in the dumps about writing, too. Really, writing seems to me the very opposite of the phrase ‘nice work if you can get it’. It seems something to be avoided at all costs. Only those who really can’t help it persevere with it. The only other people who write are loathsome celebrities who get someone else to do the actual writing for them, anyway.Anyway… I shall think of a good reason to carry on writing soon, and I shall let you know what it is.
Bring your raincoat if you come to Seattle. I’ve heard it’s hot in England right now–it’s darn cold here. Not a day over 70 degrees F yet…I’ve been wasting time at work perusing the guidelines for several small press & zines…rapidly becoming more depressed as I go. Nobody wants new stuff and those that do…well, you know the story better than I do.Now I’m starting to think it was a dreadful mistake to submit that novel. Oh well.–M
Ha! I would tend to agree with you on all counts. We must be certifiably insane.However, that said–and I bet you’d agree to this too–it beats the hell out of watching TV. Most of the time.But do let me know when you think of it. Until then, I’ll keep plodding away and avoiding chain bookstores. The sight of all those newly-minted paperbacks has a way of kicking my ulcer into overdrive.M