thunderstormy!

It's thundering and pouring, and the tent is still holding up and not leaking, so one more strike in the Win column.
I have a couple more garments to make for Pennsic and I am going to try to make them today. We'll see how that goes.

Chita woke us around 5:30, running around and yowling. She has been very bored, poor thing, and she was so excited to go outside but then it was raining and we made her come in, so she's been stymied and hyper. I gave her ridiculous amounts of lovies this morning but I doubt it's been enough.

I keep opening this window because I keep thining I have something meaningful to write here, but whatever it is retreats to the back of my brain when confronted with the blank Compose Entry window. I'll remember it eventually...

bits and bobs

I am trying to make today a Get Things Done day. Yesterday was wasted in transit, so today I had thought I would Work. But it is steamy and sauna-y, raining and steaming and raining and steaming in turns. ( I just don't feel like I'm getting anything done, no matter how hard I work. Oh well. )

This still didn't turn out to be the big useful intelligent entry I keep thinking I'm going to make. It's very annoying how incompetent I'm proving to be today. If only I could write the day off and just go lie down, but I can't.
Bah.

postscript to earlier entry

Weirdly enough, the perfect thing to pick up my mood was dragging my ass out of the house and going to get some exercise.

I got out of it out soaking wet but far from exhausted, and feeling somewhat exhilarated-- there's just something about focusing on my body, poor though my control of it really is, and making it do things it's perfectly capable of but lacks the precision to always remember to do. As long as you make some progress at mastering the skill in question, it's an awesomely inspiring sensation.
I got my iPod working after being without it for about six months, and had it cranked in the car ride home, on music I don't normally listen to. I was driving the Prius like it was a muscle car, and generally being silly, but it had lifted my mood into a peculiar place I'm particularly happy in. I had flashes of made-up characters coming to me-- I don't think primarily in worlds, but in characters, and my best moments of inspiration for writing comes from these odd unsolicited little flashes that come to me in my absent moments, where I suddenly am someone else doing something else and feeling it. That's where my stories grow from-- I never have a plot until I have people feeling something, and the plot grows from that. Almost everything I write starts out close to the characters and stays there-- I am unable to step outside of a point of view, and have such problems with plot and pacing because of it.
Maybe I should write short stories-- but I get attached to the characters and want to know everything about them, and I can't leave them after only five hundred or five thousand words.
( more on those little moments. )

______________________________

Anyway. Someone asked me a while back how I wrote, and I don't know that I'd ever shared that insight into thought-process, so I thought now might be a good time-- I'm too distracted and tired to make anything get written down well, but I can write this down and come back to it.