Occasionally, there are weeks which seem to reach their Saturday having successfully blended the intensely wonderful with the mundane; if you're not watchful the wonderful is made mundane, but on a good day, the mundane can be made miraculous. This was one such week, and now I'm sitting here in a coffee shop that feels like Sweden, wondering how to stagger around with this balance for as long as possible. The strange thing is, it doesn't often feel like balance at the time; it feels like lurching from one cliff edge to another, slightly nauseous with the thought of potential—it can be alarming to look down and see yourself covered in stardust.
ON THE JOURNAL THIS WEEK:
Actual things, rejoice! There was a quote by Murakami, some flash fiction, and a glimpse at an illustration I'm working on for a literary festival. Below is another quote, because a) you can never have too many of the right kind and b) I think about this one often.
WORK-RELATED NEWS:
I'm probably not allowed to tell you yet exactly who, what, and when, but two weeks ago we (my superwoman agent and I) accepted an offer from a publisher for my third book. It is ludicrous and great. This means that I will have written and created an entirely new work by next Spring, and I'm wriggling with ideas and want. So more news on this front soon!
The next thing is sort of work related I suppose, because it's of me and I am the work. For the first time in a long time, I published a couple of things on Medium. I don't know why it feels more definite putting them on there rather than the journal, but it does (even though they inevitably end up in both places). I published this and this, both of which are short fictional stories although very different from one another. Long story short (ha), I would love for you to read them, and tell me what you think.
THIS WEEK I FELL IN LOVE WITH:
These paintings by Portugal-born, London-based artist Wanda Bernardino.
‘She blanks out the subject’s faces after having painted them to force the observer to re-examine the attribute of identity we ascribe to portraiture. One might see such an act as vandalism but it explores aesthetic, social, political and moral attitudes we hold toward both art and representations of history.’
The end.
Do any of you also lead the type of existence where the exact days of the week have little relevance? For me, it rarely matters whether it is a Sunday or a Wednesday; I might be working on both, I might be unable to think on either. I realise that this is quite unusual, but I think more and more of us are living lives that are both increasingly full, but then increasingly unstructured in the ways that we often need it most; the human rhythms that we evolved alongside but don't necessarily pay much attention to.
Farewell, see you next sometime.
Copyright © 2017 Ella Frances Sanders, All rights reserved.