Monday, 26 April 2010

Suddenly Monday

Absolutely nothing happens the way I plan them to on Mondays. Not that currently there is a great deal of planning in my life. Indeed I try to eschew planning of many forms. I’d rather leave life to the organic process it was naturally meant to follow. This is probably why I don’t possess a watch, an alarm clock or currently a mobile phone. Yes, its infuriating for those around me who want know my every move, where I am when I haven’t turned up at the arranged time, or if I can bring something home from the supermarket, but I truly relish the independence of not always being unlimitedly contactable. There is a freedom in this un-availability and it inspires a tiny bit of smugness in my otherwise humble self – the very subversive act of not possessing a mobile. In reality I get by without it because I don’t have tons of friends or co-dependents. I’m pretty much a free spirit in my solitude.

But back to Mondays and I do feel they are tricky for creative souls. The week’s just beginning with its potential endless stretch that can give you restless legs on Wednesday, despair by Thursday. I love the weekend. Even when you are not working or at least working in an office, the weekend provides wonderful respite from the ‘real’ weekly world. It’s a psychic state where it’s easier not to think about your worries, when it’s okay to eat what you want, stay up as late as you like, drink wine and wear impractical shoes. The two days feel like an excuse. The city comes alive at night as the hordes travel in from Newcastle and the north like troops and the hen parties descend the city clad in pink cowboy hats, a flurry of sequins. The residents retreat to Georgian townhouses. Come Sunday and this town's winding down, the pace mellows, the sounds are hushed and there is ‘suddenly a six-o’clock feeling in the house.’*

My quote for this week comes from actress/singer Zooey Deschanel,

‘I think for any kind of art-making you have to do it for the process and not the reaction, not in anticipation of anybody’s response.’

(Featured in an interview that can be found here:

Indeed. And I took heart in this as I get so few responses on this blog. If gratification came purely from other people telling you that they loved you and you were wonderful and your writing was perfect, then well, you might as well just give up because you’d have done it all. I’m working through the process. All this is just a process.

*Quote from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Muriel Spark


  1. Wow! No mobile phone is unheard of today. I can understand the freedom but I would really miss mine. I couldn't go back to the days where you'd have to find a telephone box or worse still somewhere to buy a phone card. I don't own a watch or an alarm clock though and strangely have no clock in my house since the last one broke. Great to have found your blog xx

  2. Hi Christina,

    Unfortunately the lack of mobile phone will probably not be a permanent state, although I have a pretty bad track record. One I broke on a new years eve, and another I managed to put in the washing machine ... Still there is something liberating about about being phone-less - I'll miss being in self-imposed exile!

    I'm pleased you like the blog, I found yours via the excellent Tania Kindersley and I very much enjoy it. Last week I particularly liked the the Truman Capote post. I feel compelled to read 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' now.

    Thanks so much for becoming a follower!