the fish and the holy macchiato

I have some writing to do which is very important: Two conference papers and a seminar.
So far the opportunity to write consistently eludes me, small chunks of time set aside for the purpose are usually hijacked. When i claw my way into the zone, I actually come up with nice things, but getting into that zone is the problem.

But I delight in writng a nice sentence, or discovering something splendid that someone else has written.


The other night, the soundtrack to my writerly efforts went a little something like this:

the socratic notion of wonderment as a passion of the soul mum is
there anything to eat in this house can you take me to maddys place no thank
you i won't be needing one of those yes i will meet you to talk
about your assessment what time is waterpolo the aestheticisation
of terror in images of the sublime husserl and the life world
(please, WHAM! songs played on the ukelele! stop! stop! at least play the whole song! not that sam darn bit over and over)
i dont want pasta maddy is staying for dinner was elizabeth the first worse than bloody mary no I don't like that riff, no.
Turn that down please. What time does the game actually
start? oh, non-vicarious art, theres an idea: non vicarious art. Journeys and return. *cooks dinner* is there any cheese?
Wonder in the face of the world.
Something. The Numinous. The vital Materiality of Objects. The spectacular.

Damn that cut-and come-again-pudding of a washing basket damn it entirely yes there is a clean shirt. Look properly like you have mother-eyes.

what is that the cat has brought in?

What time is water polo?

would an ontology of wonderment be a contradiction of terms?



You get the drift. Anyway,
The lovely lad at the cafe at the College of Fine Arts makes me a coffee
(double shot latte in a small cup and a green chicken curry without the chicken, not together of course)
without me telling him what to make. On Tuesday I surprised him with a request for a macchiato.

he surprised me with this:




I immediately headed off to put it onto ebay as a holy relic, but the desire to stay awake got the better of me and I tossed it down in one go.

Please excuse me if I am sparse with the postings. i am on the verge of hysterics.

For someone of average talent and intelligence, I am blessed with an enormous dose of determination. Not to mention a very strange way of thinking and the ability to transform into another species entirely.

perhaps that is the secret of life.

if you see me hanging around your blog, hit me with a stick and tell me to get home and get on with it.