Normally I crawl out of bed at about six, six-thirty, sloughing grave dirt and groaning. I hate waking up. I hate getting out of bed. I hate rushing around the morning trying to get ready for work.
This morning I bounded out of bed at five o’clock. It’s been years since I’ve seen five o’clock when the sun is rising, not setting. Continue reading “A Reason to Get Out of Bed”
I loved my week at Ty Newydd. I’m struggling to pin down exactly what about it I loved. It might have been finally being able to spend a week devoted to something I love and nothing else, like meeting in person for a week after years of a long distance relationship, snatching smiles and kisses whenever you can. Maybe it was spending a week with kind, thoughtful peers whose enthusiasm was infectious, and among whom I have to hope there are new friends. Perhaps it was just the food, sunshine and beautiful surroundings. Perhaps a combination of all of them; I don’t think it would have been the same with any of it missing.
Continue reading “Digesting a Week of Writing”
I’m at the Emerging Writers course at the Ty Newydd Writer’s Centre in Gwynedd this week. Expect a write up (perhaps a little delayed) of each day, to let people know what it’s like.
Monday I drove to Ty Newydd, up through the valley, past the open cast mine in Merthyr, into the rolling roads of the Brecon Beacons—I stopped for lunch at the mountain centre—and in the blazing sun, on up to the Elan valley. As I hit the road sign for Gwynedd, I saw the country change, becoming more muscular as the rounded Beacons became mountainous in Snowdonia, and tickled the underbellies of the low, low clouds. Continue reading “A Week at Ty Newydd: Monday”
I usually hate Sundays. They’re glum end stops that mark a potentially monotonous metre; the passing of weeks, made all the more blue if you’re not in love with your daily nine to five.
This Sunday has been a good one, though. I’ve been writing a lot lately, necessitated by the assignment deadline that’s bearing down on me. I hammered out 2,000 words on the first draft of a 17th century tragedy with some fantasy stuff thrown in, which will also be what I’m submitting for my assignment, or at least part of it, anyway. Continue reading “Sunday Blues, Atmospheric Photos and Space-flight Inspiration”
Estrons are a ‘heavy pop band‘ from South and West Wales, and they rock.
Check out the sinister base on ‘I’m Not Your Girl’. Almost all their songs have a nice, chunky, fuzzy riff and the direct language in their lyrics adds to the brash effect. Case in point ‘I’m out with my friends tonight, telling them you was so middle-class you couldn’t do me right’ in I’m Not Your Girl.
My top songs thus far; Make a Man, I’m Not Your Girl and Glasgow Kisses.
They get a thumbs up from me. Gigs sound a bit intense though.