There are fronts of pressure about at the moment, mostly vague or imaginary. I have a paper to write for a conference, I feel like I haven't read enough, I have a paper plan to email to the Writing for Academic Publication module lady .... These things can be done, and they will not get clogged together in a ball - I will untangle them and set them on a table like a dissected squid.
Jen said we shouldn't compare our own progress with others' with words like 'I haven't done enough': she's right, and I will keep this small truth as a spot of blue sky amongst the flat grey.
Now for the closest cloud, my paper on Vintage at Goodwood. Using diary in critical work has thrown up a spectre recently banished from other areas of my life - 'Do I sound like an idiot?'. No Critical Distance left to run: no dusty Frankfurters or Brummies to hide behind.
In a world of tweed and institutional wine, my little musings will be quite light - I'm hoping though that they'll be dusty and authoritative in their own future - a good vintage! Life placed in an imaginary past needs to be looked at, but by me this will be loving.
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