Friday, January 21, 2011

lift-off

Well at last - something. Meaning that I have actually felt able to sit down and do a couple of hours at the notebook; a small idea that came to me the other day in Brighton as I stared out of the window. Nothing to do with immediate surroundings, but everyone knows the importance of having time to stare out of windows. Not so much an idea as a title out of which something can be unpacked that I may be able to work with - taking into account the limited strength available to me. I will shut up about it now, I have a tendency to ramble a little incontinently when beginning or thinking about something new and it really does not help to talk too much about a newly-born idea, especially if one tends, as I do, to write out of a kind of inner pressure. Talk about it and the pressure subsides, or the idea itself suffers from exposure.

I will not stop to think about the number of half-baked projects that have been left to go cold or in a state of suspended animation. The reason is M.E./CFIDS and not lack of will, in spite of which I can thread small achievements like pearls on my necklace of shining things, which I wear close to the heart.

And something else: you see the shadowy image there in my profile - me walking on the beach in Caithness, not so very long ago? I'm blonder than that now, since the day before yesterday, in preparation for the silvering of Signs. No more artificial colour - not that I wouldn't have been happy to continue for some time to come. It is part of my genetic inheritance that we silver up early, before we are ready for it. But even the least toxic product I can find makes me feel bad afterwards and is too much for me to process. The hairdresser's name is Marie. She is young, French, slender, thoughtful, pale - her raven-black hair is certainly from a bottle and it suits her. Looking at my parting she smiles. It is a good colour, you are lucky. Many women like you are turning to silver.

Meanwhile, until the rest grows out, it has been lightened with blonde streaks (my first time in foils), looks rather yellow and a bit - I don't know - Worzel Gummidge. Still hot, though, obviously - if Worzel Gummidge floats your boat.


9 comments:

Cusp said...

You look gorgeous ! ...maybe even better if you washed your face :O)

Reading the Signs said...

Cusp, no way am I going to wash my face, it took me ages to get it like that!

Zhoen said...

Very glad you are feeling up to writing here.

Silver threads among the gold. I'm very glad to let my hair be itself, very freeing.

Reading the Signs said...

Zhoen, I'm looking forward to it already - and your head of hair is an inspiration.

trousers said...

I do believe I have a paucity of suitable windows to stare out of.

Damn - I'm not happy about that.

Gael said...

maybe try Aunt Sally next time?

Reading the Signs said...

Trousers, high windows are definitely best but most windows are ok as long as you can actually see the sky.

Gael, I can't do that because Aunt Sally is a brunette. The Worzel Gummidge look works, trust me (I'm telling your stories :))

janis said...

lovely to read you, your words have a peace and purpose which I find always helps me to slow down and lift up. Will phone soon. Have had burst pipes, fallen ceiling, many changes.
much love xxx

Reading the Signs said...

Blimey Poet - fallen ceiling? It's probably auspicious but may take some advanced sign-reading to work this one out.