The day thus far

Woke up, fell back asleep, woke up again; ate breakfast, stared at news in futility and annoyance; speaking of, couldn't run for the fourth day in a row because blood sugar was too low, did yoga, hit a bag full of sand or something for seven rounds instead; cleared snow from solar panels; stared at a page for new writing, got nowhere; cut off pieces of a vent with my new favorite tool for one of three current metalwork WIPs, happy about new metal remnants, not so much about added complication but it does look better; drew and pubbed new AA VOID, made an omelet, had lunch, typed these words. More day awaits.

Recalling boom mic days in clearing snow from solar panels with extended squeegee pole. Shoulders aren’t thrilled.

And we're back to sub-mile daily runs wrought by blood sugar crashes. First time since I started running 12 years ago that I ran the first route, "around the block," that got me started. Wanting to believe that it's an omen of my rebuilding back to my daily 5k (I've given up hope of ever reaching my once-daily 10k in this, the age of NuHerbie) but I'd rather stuff my face with pink Starburst right now TYVM. Another insulin decrease duly initiated.

Bolt cutters and a glockenspiel make for a satisfying afternoon.

Finding my lack of motivation profoundly unmotivating.

This morning was the first time I enjoyed reading since last week (thank you, Mervyn Peake, for the genius that is GORMENGHAST), and yesterday the first time I lost myself in a creative experiment in longer than I care to remember (I'm already in love with welding and can see myself diving in headfirst towards making it a full-fledged vehicle of creative expression). Now to rekindle my love of cinema and writing; comics and cartooning, you're always on the love-list, even when you break my heart.

/202410141233

A chilly rain all morning but at least The Shed's nice and warm whatwith the little baby infared heater and all though a little sun would be nice so my panels can drink drink drink.

As I scribble my way through Edwards's DRAWING ON THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE BRAIN (in those afternoons when I'm not attempting to make The Paintshop habitable again), I'm fascinated to see its translation to my writing and the realization that my process – hunt and peck scraps and fragments and eventually combine – is right brain, whereas my frusration at this method and its slow pace (until it isn't) is a 100% left-brain mania. Learning still, to tune that out, even after (especially after?) all these years.

Looks like I'm back to some form or other of morning / midday word-blogging because it's the only way I'll actually do it. Plus, I do kinda miss it; twas always a useful way to unstick the brain. Note: need to figure out a time to do the actual posting.

snaps

Update/202410131611 :: it went about as well as expected - though I didn’t manage to free up storage space for shelves shelves shelves.

Slightly dreading the afternoon today: have to go through some my grandfather's old pictures to find some good ones for The Bank's 125th anniversary calendar. He was an inveterate snapshot taker, so it shouldn't be too hard to find something to sate the celebrants; no, it's more a matter of not looking forward to looking back.

On the plus side, however, by doing this, I should manage to clear space from the upstairs room and make way for the next set of storage shelves to move up there. Shelves, shelves, shelves.

But before any of that, Sunday Mexican food and tankard of beer consumption. Liquid courage to pour through the past to get to my shelves.

Convinced that one of the reasons I keep shaving my head is I really don’t like drawing hair for the Attendance Cards.

Today: a new Informality comic published and the second (of ???) story sent to my good friend for our album collaboration. NuShed’s proving a worthwhile investment.