The Light

          The light was better in the morning, but I meditate in the morning. In the afternoon when I went for a walk through the Botties the wisps of cloud sometimes obscured the sun, but sometimes not. The bottom photie was taken before I started meditating in the allotment. Marigolds at the end of November? Who would have believed it? The allotment makes you notice stuff like that.

           I think the photies are better now that I cannot see through the viewfinder. Takes a bit of the ego out of it somehow.

            I got the second act sorted out this afternoon when I got back from the allotment and the Botties. Last week when I started work on the play, I realised that writing is really quite hard work sometimes, particularly when you are starting. |You'd rather be doing something else some of the time, but some of the time it just feels like the thing you should be doing. When it's like that, it seems silly to have stopped to concentrate on the meditations. Maybe I'm better at compartmentalising stuff now, but I think it's probably that it is easier editing and re-writing dialogue than it is inventing prose. Maybe not.

          Tomorrow I'll write a letter to the folk in radio drama, the folk whose names I heard for the first time last week. This might be a mistake. Never was a team player really. Always more of an anarchist than a communist and that's okay if you don't mind writing books that will never be published, but with drama you ... anyway, it looks like the play will be brilliant, so I should test it out on whoever. I think there's a fifty fifty chance of this being a really bad idea!!