Ok this is a super quick post (I’m not even mentioning the outstanding hospital one… er… shucks…pretend you didn’t just read that). The joy of this current job is that it made me realise how happy I am to be done with my past life as an auditor. How as soon as I start doing work that stresses me out, the writing withers and dies like a delicate crocus in mid summer and all sorts of old destructive habits begin rearing their ugly little heads.
A poster for a play caught my eye in the ether today and begged a simple question: how often, how quickly, nay how cheaply, do we sell out our dreams? I tried this half work-half writing thing before: I landed in hospital (this is not that post either) for my efforts, thinking I was having a(nother) stroke – two relationships didn’t help much either. But that’s a kettle of sadly sordid fish we’re getting to too… once I bury The Mercenary. and the Drama Queen. again. *sigh*
So – quick post, yeah? A little music to while away the dying days of a long week of stellar transits, lunar eclipses and wild rain. I introduced you to these guys way back last April. Possibly New Zealand’s best export (ever) here are The Veils with Calliope ::
“I signalled up to the high and crumbling moon * we’ve made it then, my love * closed both my eyes and crawled under the sink * and as I dreamt * I swear I felt you in my arms again…”
Who’s this Kally-o-pee then? Supposedly the daughter of the big guy, Zeus, young Cal’s the wise muse of epic poetry said to have inspired Homer (he of Odyssey and Iliad infamy). Lover of war god, Ares, she had a string of affairs with high profile Greeks resulting in some famous offspring (think Orpheus – who she taught to sing) before finally settling down with Oeagrus. Symbolised with writing tablet, scroll, book or quill I like to think of her as the goddess of writers. When I wish upon a star… it’s her.
And now folks, I’m off to bed. To dream. For you and I come from the same place….