I have made a promise (to myself, but also to my husband) to take the day off work. And I am also taking a day off from yoga, to see if that helps or hinders my sore hip.
So I went straight to my Morning Ink today, and finished listening to The Fraud by Zadie Smith.
And there were 15 minutes left of The Fraud when I finished the page, so I got some colour out.
I am feeling called to colour aagain.Not that I ever completely let it go, but the Morning Ink practice has brought me to the point where I can, and do draw black and white on my iPad, too. I don't think that means I will switch the Morning Ink to colour, though.
I wonder if I should keep a notebook close by when reading (of any kind), because so much slips away when I finish. My sister told me about some clever highlighter postit type things you can buy which are translucent and writable on, so you can mark and annotate books as you read, but remove them when you are done. (Because I cannot bring myself to write in books. Except the ones I wrote in when studying. I remember so many notes in my A Level copy of Mansfield Park, for example, and my university copy of L'Assommoir. But now when I read for pleasure, rather than study – except, really, the studying was also pleasure – the idea if writing in these books causing me actual pain.)
Of course, I could use this little computer that lives in my pocket (It doesn't, actually, because women are rarely given big enough pockets to hold a phone or a book. I have a creative project in my head that I would love to do one day: to make coordinating and big pockets and sew then on to all the skirts and trousers that have none. My daughter, or maybe it was my sister, suggested I could also include flaps and funky buttons. I would like to manifest this now, please.) I could put down my book or my pen and pick up my phone and and make a note of the line or the word or the little phrase that struck me. So that it would not slip away forever.
It occurs to me that I often work on weekends, not just because I have had projects collide or expand and that is the only way that I can meet a deadline, but also because it is the easy thing to do. Even when it is hard, it is the easy thing to do, because it is familiar and because I know what to do and do not need to reinvent the wheel or create anything new. I do not need to think about what to do, because I have been doing that work, or similar work for decades.
When faced with a day when I am not going to work, there are so many options. And the day can get swallowed up by indecision. And by this little computer that lives in my hand. And not in my pocket.
Things I may do today
Finish reading Hot Milk by Deborah Levy.
Start reading something else.
Snooze in the armchair.
Start watching the new season of Ginny and Georgia on Netflix.
Walk down to Stratford Park with my sketchbook and sketch flowers and plants, and maybe some people, before going to the college and having a good wander round the end of year art course exhibition.
Finish off (or continue) a mini collection for a challenge I am doing.
Finish drawing the sketches for my Giant Cat House collection amd maybe start laying down colour on the first piece.
Cut up some pieces of material to create the skirt out of the broken trousers, and maybe start sewing it.
Cook a tofu-based vegan frittata. And illustrate the recipe, now that I think I have ‘nailed it’.
See if I can find enough flowers in the garden to replace the flowers that need replacing.
Sit and do more colourful and planless sketchbook play.
Write some of the six or seven Substack posts that are sitting in my Substack ro so list.
Catch up on the various courses and Substack videos I haven’t watched while I have been super busy.
Things I should probably do today
Finish cleaning the kitchen.
Sweep and mop the floors.
Send an email to Shark about the broken vacuum cleaner that is still in warranty.
Cook food that other people will eat.
Do some washing and work out how and where to dry it.
Photograph some clothes and put them up for sale on Vinted.