The midnight sun of Iqaluit has been interfering with my natural writing rhythm. Everyone (meaning the kids) go to bed really late, and I end having little or no uninterrupted night-writing time. This is very frustrating, yet, on the other hand, being here is so magical and unique, that I shouldn’t be complaining.
I’ve been absorbing everything, feeling everything, experiencing it to the fullest. The writing time will come when there’s less sunlight, more opportunities to find quiet moments. But I also would like to allow myself to spend less time on my writing. Often, when I don’t have an hour or two, I tell myself that anything less won’t allow me to focus, and would be a waste of time. But this is just being lazy. True, I can’t revise unless I have at least an hour, but I can certainly write flash. I need to print this out and tape it to the wall above my laptop—“when in doubt, when pressed for time, write a flash.”
Alianait, the cultural festival is in town, and it has been fantastic. I loved the intimate workshops, where musicians would play for a room of 5-6 people and talk about their craft. My four year old son approached one of the singers, looked up at him with his big puppy eyes, and said, “I love you. I love you very much.” Yeas, he was that impressed. Contrast this with another performance which he attended listening to his sister’s ipod, making a sixty-something guitarist (performer and teacher) quite self-conscious.
No comments:
Post a Comment